Page 54 of Single Mom's Undoing
“Damon, honey, I’m invited to every charity in this state. Not personally, but through the Julian Hempstead Fund. I’m on their board,” Elizabeth says, a pretentious tone to her voice.
“The Julian Hempstead Fund provides books and literary materials for schools and charities across the country,” Damon mutters. “How the hell did you get on their board? You’re an art dealer.”
Elizabeth shrugs, clearly satisfied with the element of surprise. “I know the right people, obviously,” she responds, then gives me a once-over with a most critical eye. “This dress fits you better than anything tight; trust me. With your figure, you would’ve been a nightmare for the editor to blur out of the event photos. Besides, pink works great with your complexion, Clara.”
“What the fuck is your problem?” I manage, baffled by the deluge of insults that she was able to throw at me without so much as the fluttering of an eyelash.
“Just saying.”
Damon steps in. “How far do you think this bullshit mean girl routine of yours is going to get you, Elizabeth? Because it doesn’t help your campaign to get anywhere near Shiloh, that’s for sure.”
“Don’t bring our daughter into this,” Elizabeth sneers. “Just because you’re banging a fat chick doesn’t mean I can’t have something to say about it.”
“Beauty, my dear ex-wife, is something you’ve never had and clearly can’t recognize,” Damon says. “A woman, a real woman, carries her curves with grace and elegance. She doesn’t rise by putting other women down.”
The words hit Elizabeth deep. Her lips press tightly into a resentful red line.
“Furthermore, I’ll make you a promise. The more you try to fling your poison at me and at the people I care about, especially Clara, the harder I’m going to make it for you in family court. You think Bill Lockwood’s lawyers are good enough? Wait until you see what the lawyers behind a pissed-off father at Vanguard Security are capable of.”
“Elizabeth,” Jace sneers as he joins the tense exchange. “I was hoping we wouldn’t run into you tonight. Where’d you leave your broom?”
She gives him a confused look. “My what?”
“The broom you flew to get here,” Carter replies, firmly positioning himself beside me. Suddenly, I am flanked by three of the handsomest men on earth. Elizabeth stands there looking small, ugly, and bitter.
I could laugh but that would be in poor taste. She’s taken quite the kick already.
Her claws are slowly retracting, judging by the look on her face.
“No need to be assholes,” Elizabeth mutters.
“I hate to sound like a four-year-old, but you started it,” Damon shoots back with a wry smirk. “Learn to leave well enough alone, Elizabeth, and please, find your way out. You’re not welcome here. This is a charity event for the library. The only reason you showed up was to hurl insults at a woman we’re exceptionally fond of.”
“A gorgeous, intelligent, insanely talented woman,” Carter adds, giving me a soft smile while Elizabeth rolls her eyes. My heart grows about three sizes. “Whatever beef you have with Damon, take it up with him in court, Elizabeth. Leave the rest of us out of it, unless you want us to keep responding in kind.”
“And I doubt you’re up for that,” Jace chimes in, then takes a slow sip of his whiskey. “I’ve got a foul mouth on me tonight and zero tolerance for frustrated bitches.”
Elizabeth gasps and spins on her heels, quick to make an exit.
I watch her disappear into the crowd, the afternoon light glazing her in a honey-gold aura as she leaves. For a moment, peace is restored, and I actually think we might be able to enjoy the rest of the event without any more unpleasant hiccups.
“Are you okay?” Carter asks me.
“Yes, she was just being a bitch. Some women never grow out of high school, I guess.”
Damon sighs deeply. “I’m sorry you have to deal with her, too, Clara. She’s my issue, not yours.”
“No, it’s fine,” I tell him. “I’m just grateful you’re all here supporting me, but most importantly, supporting Jodie. It’s a big moment for her.”
“Well, at least the wicked witch is out of here for now,” Jace chuckles then gives me a dark look. “We have our own demons to deal with, don’t we, Clara? No room for side plots like Elizabeth.”
I nod slowly and lower my gaze.
Damon groans. “Turns out there’s more than one wicked witch in town. What’s Margot doing here?”
“What?” My head snaps up to see her heading toward us.
My heart stops. The look on her face speaks of trouble, but her stride is fluid, calm and controlled, like the way her black cocktail dress falls around her slender hips. She picks up a champagne glass as she passes by the waiter, reaching us in a matter of seconds, while I struggle to keep myself from unraveling altogether.
