Page 71 of Whispers of My Skin

“Knowing how important this lunch was for Joel and his plans for the ranch, naturally Tara planned meticulously for every eventuality, so of course she has a reserve,” Fermin says casually, shrugging his shoulders like it’s no big deal. I love my best friend so much at this moment for the way he has my back. Unlike my husband.

“Mr. Sadger?” Mrs. Sanchez says quietly. “If you’d like to check this batch of chili, I think you’ll find it’s perfect. I’ll have it ready in just a few minutes as it’s only chilled.”

Joel looks at me apologetically, but I’m in no mood to deal with him right now.

“Thank you, Mrs. Sanchez, but that won’t be necessary. I trust your judgement that whatever went wrong with the original batch hasn’t been repeated with this one,” he tells her quietly.

In the meantime, Cassandra has slunk off, leaving us to quickly dispose of the ruined food and hastily prepare the replacement batch.

“Forgive me,” Joel murmurs in my ear as we walk out onto the terrace. “I’m so sorry, my love. I reacted without thinking; the stress was driving me crazy. I’m really sorry.”

I don’t bother to reply, I just ignore him as I put on a big smile to greet our guests.

Two hours later, I put on another big smile as our guests leave, having acted the perfect, polite, sociable wife, but I’ve avoided any personal interaction with Joel, because I’m still too mad to deal with him.

At least the meeting has been a huge success, with everyone very impressed with the plans being implemented at Redlands, and also impressed with the food, which Fermin, bless him, made sure everyone knew had been prepared by me when they sang its praises.

“Let’s all head to the kitchen,” Fermin pronounces. “Where I have a bottle of my good friend Dom P. chilling, ready for us to crack open and celebrate.”

“I’m so proud of you,” Joel murmurs in my ear. “Are you ever going to talk to me?”

“Nope,” I answer succinctly, not even deigning to look at him.

Has he any idea how hurtful he was? The way he shouted at me, blamed me, and didn’t believe me? How dare he treat me like that when I didn’t deserve any of it. And I bet he still won’t accept that any of this is down to his bitch friend doing her level best to stir up trouble, despite the evidence.

When there’s a knock at the door I roll my eyes. The last thing I need right now is more visitors since I’m totally exhausted, both physically and emotionally. Joel follows me as I go to open the door, where we find a man standing there. He looks familiar, but I can’t immediately place him.

“How can we help?” I ask.

“I’m Stephen Cohen,” he says. “Cassandra’s husband. I came to talk to you and your husband.”

Well I did not see this coming—what the hell is he doing here?

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