Page 93 of The Invitation

I get in the elevator, texting Abbie to see if she wants me to pick her up anything from M&S, shifting farther toward the back of the cart when more people board as the elevator stops through the floors on its way to the lobby. When the doors open, I move with the crowd as everyone steps off, making my way to the glass doors and out onto the street. I look up from my phone, and my heels falter when I see someone I recognise.

Katherine.

She’s standing by a pillar on the pavement, her expensive handbag in the crook of her arm. I slow my pace the second her shoulders straighten and conclude just from her body language that she’s here because of me.

I damn myself for becoming jittery as she flicks her dark hair over her shoulder and starts toward me, confident. I was right. There’s ... something. Skintight black jeans hug her thighs, and her knee-high stiletto boots click on the concrete.

“Amelia,” she says, offering a hand. Weird. “I’m Katherine.”

Thinking I should keep this civil, whateverthisis, I accept her offering. “Yes, I’ve seen you at Arlington Hall.”

Her smile is definitely tight. “Yes.”

“What can I do for you, Katherine?” I ask, releasing her hand.Tell me what your texts said!

“You can stay away from Jude.”

I withdraw, and I don’t know why. I think I expected that—I just suppose I never expected her to shoot so straight. The best thing I could do right now is walk away. Not ask questions. Not get drawn into the drama. After all, Jude and I are obviously done.

“You’re married,” I say like a fool.

“And . . . ?”

“And?” I laugh. “Do married women usually go around warning other women away from men who aren’t their husbands?”

“He’s my best friend.”

I blink, surprised.What?I can distinctly remember Jude brushing off my question, which, in effect, told me Katherine was of no importance. There was no mention of best friend status. Then she texted him, things got weird between us, and I finished it. Or did he?Jesus.“He’s not talked about you.”

“Well, I don’t suppose you did much talking when youateat Arlington Hall.”

I feel my face begin to flame. Humiliated. And I’m suddenly stuck for words. My God, does she think I’m the kind of woman who opens her legs for a man with money? Is she being protective, assuming I’m just another gold digger? Jude said himself he’s a magnet for them. Or, at least, he alluded to it. For God’s sake, it’s not like he’s got nothing else to offer. He’s a stunning man.

Has she voiced this to Jude? Is that why I haven’t heard from him? Because the Jude I met is persistent. Won’t take no for an answer.

Not that any of this matters.

“It’s been lovely chatting,” I say, trying my hardest to erase the edge of cynicism. And failing. I pass Katherine, feeling my blood beginning to boil. A gold digger. A slut. She thinks I’m both, and the thought of her being in Jude’s ear convincing him I’m disingenuous pisses me off. I can’t help it.

“Wait,” she calls, but I keep moving. But then she’s suddenly in front of me, and I have no idea how she managed that in those boots. “He’s more than my best friend.”

I hate the prickling of my skin. Hate the thumping of my heart. “I’m not interested in what Jude is to you.” A barefaced lie. I’m so fucking curious, and yet I know I’m going to hate the answer.

“He’s my lover.”

My stomach knots, my mind bends. “Excuse me?”Lover?And notwasbutis.Don’t rise to it.Wasn’t my reaction to her declaration of best friend status enough for her? Fucking hell, were they her green mules in his closet? A sick kind of calling card, left to mark her territory? “But you’re married.”

She shrugs. “It’s an arrangement that works.”

“Your husband knows?” I splutter.

“Yes, he knows.”

I stare at her, flummoxed, my thoughts swirling so fast I’m struggling to unravel them. And I have nothing else for her, so she’ll be disappointed if she was expecting a standoff or a deranged hissy fit from the latest gold digger her best friend / lover is fucking.

“Are we done?” I ask, feeling everything inside wilting, unable to find the stony facade I want her to see.

“We’re done,” she chimes, smiling. “Lovely chatting.” Slipping her shades on, Katherine twirls and struts away, and I start toward the Tube in a daze. With each step I take, my disbelief fades and anger rises. I knew it. I fucking knew there was more to him.

---