Page 121 of I Love My Mistake

Chapter Fifty-Eight

My First Reception

“The lady of the hour!” Jack holds out his hands, smile-lines deeply framing his sharply intelligent eyes. My friends leave to walk around, but Mark stays by my side as I reach out and take both of Jack’s hands. We lean in and kiss each other on both cheeks; that thing I loathe to do. Admittedly, I loathe it less with Jack because his natural pompousness rocks this type of thing like it’s normal. With Jess and the rest of the world, not so much.

“Jack. You did such a great job.”

He looks very debonair. “As if I know how to do anything else. How was the whiskey?”

A dry smile plays on my lips. “Delicious.”

“Good. Now go mingle.” As Mark and I walk away, Jack calls after us. “You look gorgeous tonight, Ms. Henry. Just as beautiful as your work!” I throw a pleased smile over my shoulder.

We walk around the large room meeting people, chatting with everyone who wants to. Jason kept his promise and comes over to meet Mark, never giving away that he and I have ever been more than friends. While I’m in conversation I hear people near me whispering things I don’t want to hear, like, I like this one, but this one is hideous, and Look at the knife slashes. So angry. I make a mental note to keep my mouth shut the next time I go see someone’s hard work displayed. I almost turn to assault one of the bastards – which would prove their point, unfortunately – but I’m stopped by a woman whispering, “This one. I love this one the most. So angry… I love it.” My defenses melt instantly and I turn to introduce myself. Some people get you, and some just don’t.

From out of nowhere we hear a woman’s raised, angry voice. I can’t see over the heads. Jason frowns. I look up to Mark. “Can you see?”

He cranes his neck. “A blonde woman’s in front of that painting. She’s pretty upset.”

“Which painting?”

“The one of the guy with the red eyes.”

He’s talking about the painting of Michael. Confusion twists my face. “I know some people are having bad reactions to my work, but why would she be that upset?”

“I don’t know. Let’s go see.”

As the woman gets more irate, conversations around her go silent. Everyone wants to know what’s going on. Faster, I push through the people, saying, “Excuse me,” over and over.

I can’t believe it! Standing in front of the painting of her husband, is Laura Benitez. She turns her head like the girl in the Exorcist, and locks crazy eyes with me. “You have got to be kidding me! You lying little…”

I cut her off. “Laura! So good to see you again!” I motion to the staring crowd to go on about their lives. They’re not having it. And Laura is seething; there is no stopping this train.

“You said you didn’t sleep with my husband! You lied!” The music shuts off abruptly and the entire room silences, craning to see.

I shoot a nervous look around me. “I didn’t, Mrs. Benitez. Now why don’t you lower your voice?” It’s sort of true what I’m saying. When I told her that, I hadn’t. Does that still count? My heart races with fear at what she might say next.

“Bullshit!” she spits, little flecks of saliva hitting my face.

The familiar rage begins to boil. This is my night. What is she doing here? Bringing my hand up, I slowly wipe the disgusting wetness off my cheek. “Okay, that’s about enough. I don’t know where you learned your manners, but I have a feeling you didn’t receive an invite to this party. This is invite-only. Right, Jack?” I look over to Jack, who’s walked up and stands watching.

He raises one disdainful eyebrow. “That is correct.”

She looks around, embarrassed. Her normal shyness comes back, and fast. But she doesn’t want to give up. She says quietly, looking at the floor, hurt. “I don’t believe you. I know you slept with him.”

“Laura, what are you doing?”

I turn and see Michael pushing his way through, dressed in a suit and looking his best. He gives me a polite nod and flashes his eyes over my dress.

The entire room starts whispering as they recognize him from the painting that is next to him, staring back at all of us.

“Look at this, Michael!” Laura points to it. He glances and sees the red eyes, looks back to me for half a heartbeat, disturbed by my portrayal. Oops. I shoot a look to Mark and see my other friends staring also, standing farther back behind him amid the strangers. Everyone’s lips are a thin, tight line.

“Laura, you’re making a scene,” Michael warns, quietly. He’s a private person. I’m sure this is the last thing he finds appealing. I just want them both to leave. How dare they come here tonight?

“You fucked her! I know you fucked her!”

My stomach falls to the ground and I stare into what feels like the end of the world. She’s right. He did. And now everyone will know. Michael is going to let out our secret. My perfect Amber will never forgive me for not telling her the truth, and Mark? Mark will always have the image of me and Michael in bed together, in his mind. I have it with him and Jess, but I can forget. Men aren’t so easily distracted from things like that. Being fiercely territorial when they love a woman, it’s in their blood.

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