Chapter 18 #2
The voice turned vicious. “Why the fuck is he here with her, then? She’s a crazy dried-up old cow.”
“Well… You have to admit, she looks incredible for a dried-up old cow, Jules. She never looked that good when she was with Vincent, and they were always the most beautiful couple at any party.”
“Shut the fuck up, Saxby.”
The other Saxby sister’s high-pitched voice floated over. “They… they look like they like each other. He’s staring at her pretty intensely. I mean, I’m sure they can both hear us, but they’re ignoring us, and they’re still staring at each other like they want to—”
“Susan? Your Highness?” Professor Owen’s chirpy voice cut through the whispers. “You two lovebirds are over here.”
Donovan raised his eyebrows—a silent question. I nodded. I was okay. He squeezed my hand, pulling me forward. “Come, amore. I am famished.”
We walked towards the table. My heart sank a little when I realized the professor had put me right in the middle of the table, with Donovan opposite me. It felt like there was a whole ocean between us. “You’re next to me, Your Highness,” Juliette smoldered, patting the seat next to him.
Ignoring her again, Donovan held my hand firmly, leading me to my place at the table.
He pulled out my seat for me. My heart thumping, I lowered myself stiffly into it, carefully arranging the red silk dress around my thighs.
Donovan didn’t push me in. Instead, he lifted the chair in his hands as if I weighed nothing, stepped forward, and placed the chair under the table.
Down the table, one of the Saxby sisters let out a little moan.
The other one elbowed her in the boob, and she yelped.
Donovan sauntered around the table to his own seat, all eyes on him, sat down, and leaned back, a vision of power and grace.
He didn’t look at Juliette or at Delia on his other side.
I swallowed, trying to remember my manners. To my left sat Ming, the young fifth wife of Montgomery Walker, eyes downcast, staring demurely at her empty plate. Thankfully, he was on the other side of her, away from me. Unluckily for me, Dan Raine was on my other side.
“I must admit, you’re looking good, Sue,” Dan said cozily, eyeing me like a piece of meat. “I expected you’d be a mess. You know, after everything that happened. Jail, the mental hospital, all that stuff.”
I smiled tightly. “Thank you, Dan.”
“Seraphina tells me you’ve got a new job, and you’re doing much better now.”
At the mention of Seraphina, my stomach churned again. “Hmm,” I said, noncommittally.
Juliette grinned. “Seraphina is looking lovely,” she said, her voice deceptively light.
“I saw her just the other day, buying a stupidly expensive handbag in Jasper’s.
” She plucked at Donovan’s dinner jacket lightly; I wanted to rip her arm off.
“Have you met Seraphina, Your Highness? Vincent Andresano’s fiancé?
His family is Italian, you must know them. ”
“I do not know them.” Donovan didn’t even look at her. “But I have seen her in passing,” he replied. “She is a skinny redhead girl.” There was so much derision in his tone, he might as well have said, she’s a disgusting bald troll.
Juliette barreled on. “Seraphina was always a beautiful girl, but now that she’s pregnant…” She trailed off and sighed dramatically. “She’s just stunning.”
My smile disappeared. Why the hell was I playing this game? Why the hell had I ever played this game? Juliette was a monstrous bitch; just being in her vicinity was painful. Maybe I’d only ever played it before because I always won without even trying.
She took my expression as a win, a triumphant glint appearing in her beady brown eyes.
“I was the same when I was pregnant with my boys. Clear skin, flushed cheeks, thick, luscious hair. There’s something about pregnancy that really makes women glow, isn’t there?
Oh!” Juliette gave a fake gasp and clutched her chest. “I’m sorry, Susan. I forgot. You wouldn’t know.”
It would have hurt more, except Donovan’s long legs had sandwiched mine under the table. He held me in place, like I was a sapling tree that had to be propped up in a storm so it wouldn’t fall over. I could barely see Juliette anymore. My eyes had glazed over.
“And you never will,” Juliette added, her tone icy.
“Hmm.”
“Because you’re too old to get pregnant now.” Her barbs weren’t hurting, and she was pissed.
Donovan leaned forward and picked up my wine glass, refilled it, and placed it in front of me. “One more glass, mi amore.” He caught my eye, and held it, his gaze hot. “I do not want your senses dulled this evening.”
The Saxby sisters both moaned in tandem. Juliette clamped her mouth shut, her cheeks reddening.
Holy hell, I loved this man. I couldn’t help it—I giggled like a schoolgirl. “Okay.”
Gladioli dished out the starter—a roasted fennel, burrata and prosciutto bruschetta.
“Thanks, Glad,” I said as she placed the plate in front of me.
Everyone else icily ignored her, not even looking at their plates.
I put the whole thing in my mouth and chewed.
God, it was delicious—the prosciutto crispy and perfectly salty, the burrata creamy and smooth, the fennel lightly tingly on my tongue.
“Mmm. Stunning, thanks Glad. You’re a wizard. ”
Donovan scowled. “A wizard? This food is spelled?”
I kicked him under the table and mouthed, not an actual wizard.
“Are we eating carbs again?” One of the Saxbys blinked across the table at me, owl-like. One hand drifted tentatively towards her plate.
“No,” Juliette snapped.
The Saxby pulled her hand back as if Juliette slapped her. Nobody else twitched.
Donovan picked up his bruschetta, put the whole thing in his mouth, and chewed once, then again with relish. He swallowed, then his eyes drifted down to Juliette’s plate. He stared at her bruschetta longingly, then back up at me, a silent question in his expression.
I shook my head slightly. No, Donovan. You can’t steal Juliette’s bruschetta.
Delia turned her whole body towards him, her diamonds glittering in the candlelight, and started quizzing him on Italian architecture. Donovan answered in disinterested monosyllables and stole her bruschetta while she was monologuing about the Colosseum.
He kept looking back at me. Every time he did, I felt the blood rush to my cheeks.
No, Susan. He’s taken. Cress would tear out your lungs with her bare hands and play them like bagpipes.
And even if he wasn’t already taken, he’s so far out of your league it’s not even funny.
He is major league. You could barely qualify for little league.
Dan Raine leaned towards me and put his arm around the back of my chair, oozing cozy confidence. “How much did he cost you, Sue?” he murmured in my ear, and I stiffened at his closeness. “Inquiring minds want to know.”
“Inquiring minds can fuck off, Dan,” I said tightly, not looking at him.
He leaned closer. His breath tickled my ear. “Come on, now, Sue. He’s not here with you, and we all know it. You’re broke, so you must have rented that dress and got some kid to do your makeup. But how much did that prince cost you?”
“You.” Donovan’s low, cold voice cut through the conversation like a hot knife through butter. “Weather boy.”
Dan tried not to flinch but failed badly.
“You are too close to the Chosen. Move away.”
Dan froze. I could almost feel his ignorant bravado doing battle with the sudden heavy atmosphere of danger that had seeped through the room. The table fell silent.
“Now,” Donovan growled.
Dan went pale underneath his orange fake tan.
He took his arm off the back of my chair, leaning away, and plastered a shit-eating grin on his face.
“I meant no offense,” he said, holding up his hands.
“Me and Susan are old friends, Your Highness.” He was trying to act casual, but his voice shook.
“I guess in the States, we’re a little more casual with our friendships. ”
Donovan glared at him for a few more seconds, then, maintaining eye contact, he scooped up Juliette’s bruschetta. “And in my country, I would slit a man’s throat if he dared put his lips so close to the Chosen.”
There was a long, uncomfortable silence.
“I love how you pronounce her name,” one of the Saxbys tittered, trying to break the tension. “Susan. Chosen. Hee hee. Foreign languages are so crazy.”
“No slitting throats at the table, please, Your Highness,” Professor Owen called down the table.
“I make no promises.” Donovan coldly ate Juliette’s bruschetta.
Dan shifted his chair a foot away from me, now practically sitting in one of the Saxby twins’ laps.
With effort, I turned to the silent Ming next to me, staring down at her untouched plate.
“I hear congratulations are in order,” I said warmly, forcing a smile.
Gladioli moved in on my left, whipped Ming’s bruschetta plate away, put it in front of Donovan, then placed a perfect square of her wagyu and roast cherry tomato lasagna in front of her.
The poor girl stared at it, not moving. She looked miserable.
“Oh. Yes,” she answered me in a tiny voice. “Thank you. I am well, and the baby is healthy.”
“Baby?”
Montgomery’s horsey face leaned over on her other side. “Ming just had our first,” he declared. “Finally, I have an heir.”
“I thought you already had kids, Monty,” Juliette said. She shot me a nasty grin. “Some of us are lucky to be prolific life-bringers like that.”
“I’ve only got girls so far, Jules,” he replied, no hint of embarrassment in his voice. “This is my first boy,” he said proudly. He leaned over and squeezed Ming’s thigh so hard she flinched. “I’m so happy.”
“Of course you are. Because girls are worthless, right?” I said, holding eye contact with Montgomery. “I’m sure your daughters love hearing that.”
He shrugged. “I don’t see them often, if I’m being honest, Sue. They stay with their moms most of the time.”
“Oh. So, you’re a deadbeat dad,” I said sadly. “I understand.”