Page 46 of Lavish
I picked the bouquet off the floor. Gigi looked like she could spit, and Laurene just looked sad.
“Let’s go.”
I pretended to be calm, but I was terrified the closer I got to the mayor’s office. What were my priorities? My goals? If I ran through those again, I would feel centered, calmer. Not like I was hurtling off a skyscraper at this very moment.
Emails. Had to send emails. Final financial snapshots. Get rid of Jenese and get my life back on track.
Erik exploded out of the mayor’s office. He bowled us over, ignoring us completely.
“Erik, where the hell you going?” Gigi called after him. “You’re my ride!”
He didn’t even look back as he marched down the hall and disappeared around the corner.
“Well damn, I guess he objects,” Gigi muttered.
“You gotta joke about everything?” Laurene frowned at her.
My heart hammered, and I gaped at Miles, standing in the doorway frozen, jaw clenched tight, a fist balled so hard his arm trembled.
My eyes just drank him in, from his chest to his waist, to his legs all ready to rumble. My skin prickled with heat, low and treacherous.
My husband.
Miles quickly spun on his heel, storming inside.
“Not a good sign necessarily, but maybe the after-party will be better? We are gonna eat after this, right?” Gigi asked.
I ignored them and tightened my grip on the bouquet, walking slowly into the office. Fine. He wanted to be an asshole. I could match that energy as well. I’d be the biggest bitch he ever saw coming.
The temperature of the room dropped the moment I stepped inside. The room was split cleanly in two, like a courtroom. My family on one side, Miles’s family on the other.
Half the room hated this moment; the other half hated each other.
There were no happy faces.
Only grim. Sad. Angry. Depressed. No one could even bother to pretend and fake it for me.
Then came the chirp of a breathy voice that didn’t match the tension. “I’m sorry I’m late! I had an emergency at work…”
Every head turned.
Noelle, Laurene’s best friend since childhood, flew in, wide-eyed. “I saw Erik…” She stopped talking when she saw our faces, and grimaced when she glanced at Miles.
“Oh,” she squeaked, blinking rapidly. She scurried over to sit on my side next to Reese, who was the only one who seemed unfazed.
“Shall we get started?” Dante said.
My gaze lingered on Miles for a last moment, a silent question hanging in the air between us.
I clutched the bouquet tightly in my hand, its stiff stems digging into my palms. Laurene kindly offered to take it, freeing my hand to accept Miles’s outstretched one.
“Grab his hand,” Gigi whispered loudly, pulling Walter out of her purse to sit on her lap. The dog barked at me, and I glared at him.
This isn’t justice. This isn’t healing. This is PR.
This was two broken legacies being stitched together in public view, as if slapping our last names into a headline would somehow fix the rot beneath it all.
But then I looked up.
