Chapter 3 #2
Lewis practically glowed under the praise. "Chloe's being modest. She's one of the most capable assistants I've ever had. Sharp, intuitive, always anticipating what I need before I even know I need it."
"That's quite a skill." Maxinet's tone was dry. "Anticipating a man's needs."
The double meaning hung in the air. Chloe laughed, high and bright, and reached for her wine glass. As she did, her elbow caught the edge of Lewis's water glass, sending it tumbling forward, and directly into my lap.
Ice water soaked through my emerald blue dress, shocking against my thighs. I gasped, pushing back from the table, watching the stain spread across the silk like a wound.
"Oh my God!" Chloe's hands flew to her mouth. "Julianne, I'm so sorry! I'm such a klutz, I can't believe I did that!"
"It's fine." It wasn't fine. My dress was ruined. The dress I'd spent two hours choosing, that made me feel powerful and beautiful, now clung to my legs in a wet, uncomfortable mess.
"Here, let me help." Chloe was already out of her seat, grabbing napkins, making a show of dabbing at my lap with concerned little noises. Her proximity was overwhelming. That trendy perfume, the warmth of her body, her hands pressing against my thighs through the wet fabric.
"I've got it." I stood abruptly, nearly knocking her back. "Excuse me. I need to change."
I walked out of my own dining room with as much dignity as I could muster. Behind me, I heard Chloe apologizing profusely, heard Lewis assuring her it was just an accident, heard the murmur of conversation resuming like nothing had happened.
In my bedroom, I peeled off the wet dress and stared at myself in the mirror. My makeup was still perfect. My hair was still elegant. But my eyes looked hollow. Defeated.
I changed into a simple black sheath. Less stunning than the emerald blue. Less special. But at least it was dry.
When I returned to the dining room, Chloe had moved her chair closer to Lewis. Her hand rested on his arm as she laughed at something Coen had said, and she didn't remove it when she saw me. Neither did Lewis.
I took my seat at the far end of the table. Maxinet caught my eye with a look of sympathy that somehow made everything worse.
The rest of the dinner passed in a blur. I served courses and cleared plates and made conversation, but I felt like a ghost in my own home. Watching my husband laugh with another woman. Watching her touch him casually, constantly. Watching him do absolutely nothing to stop it.
By the time the last guests left, murmuring thank yous and what a lovely evenings, I was vibrating with a rage so profound it felt like it might split me open.
Chloe lingered in the foyer, making no move to leave.
"Thank you so much for having me," she said, and she actually had the audacity to hug me. Her body pressed against mine, slim and firm, and her lips brushed my cheek. "I really am sorry about your dress. I'm sure it'll dry clean beautifully."
"I'm sure." I didn't return the embrace.
"I'll see you Monday, Lewis." She turned to him with a smile that belonged in a bedroom, not a foyer. "Thanks for letting me crash. I had such a great time."
"Anytime, Chloe." He squeezed her shoulder affectionately. "Thanks for going above and beyond on the Patinson thing. I don't know what I'd do without you."
She glowed. Actually glowed. Then she was gone, disappearing into the night in her tiny black dress and her cloud of perfume, leaving destruction in her wake.
I started clearing the dining room table in silence. Lewis followed me, carrying glasses to the kitchen, humming under his breath like nothing was wrong.
"That went well," he said cheerfully. "Coen seemed impressed. And Pierce mentioned something about a golf game next weekend."
I didn't respond. Just kept stacking plates, my movements mechanical.
"Jules? You okay?"
"She spilled water on me." My voice was flat. Controlled. "She crashed our dinner party and spilled water on me in front of your colleagues."
"It was an accident, honey. You saw how upset she was."
"It wasn't an accident." I turned to face him, plates still in my hands.
"None of this is accidental, Lewis. She shows up uninvited in a cocktail dress with fake emergency documents.
She takes my seat next to you. She touches you constantly.
She ruins my dress. And you just... you let her. You encourage her."
"I didn't encourage anything. I was being polite." He leaned against the counter, arms crossed, that familiar defensive posture. "What was I supposed to do, throw her out in front of everyone?"
"Yes!" The word exploded out of me. "Yes, that's exactly what you should have done! Or at the very least, you should have told her to come back tomorrow. You should have set a boundary. You should have chosen me, your wife, over your fucking assistant!"
The profanity echoed in the kitchen. Lewis's expression hardened.
"You're being dramatic. As usual."
"I'm being dramatic?" I set the plates down hard enough that they rattled.
"She crashed my dinner party, Lewis. Mine.
That I spent three days planning. And you invited her to stay.
You let her take my seat. You spent the entire evening fawning over her while I sat at the other end of my own table like a stranger. "
"You're exaggerating."
"I'm not." My throat felt tight, my eyes burning with tears I refused to shed. "I watched you. I watched you watch her. You looked at her like... like she was something special. Something exciting. And you haven't looked at me like that in years."
The words hung between us, raw and bleeding. Lewis's face flickered with something that might have been guilt before it hardened again.
"You're being paranoid and jealous, and frankly, it's unattractive." He pushed off the counter, heading for the door. "I'm not going to stand here and be accused of something I didn't do. Chloe is a colleague. Nothing more. If you can't see that, the problem is with you, not me."
He walked out. I heard his footsteps on the stairs, heard the bedroom door close.
I stood alone in my kitchen, surrounded by the ruins of my perfect dinner party, and felt something inside me crack.
Not break. Not yet.
But the fissure was there now. Spreading. Growing.
And I didn't know how to stop it.