Page 55 of The Bourbon Bet
She is a vision of perfection in a sleek, black gown that clings to her every curve as if it were an extension of her. She glides to the sink beside me. The back of her dress comes into view, and wow. The daring plunge descends to the base of her spine, the expanse from shoulder to shoulder is adorned with glistening stones that drape like an exquisite necklace against her smooth skin.
The woman looks me over. “That’s a bold choice,” she sniffs. “I’m not sure I could pull off that color, but you wear it with such...confidence.”
There is that word again, “bold.” And, like when Louis said it, it doesn’t feel like a compliment.
“Um, thanks,” I mutter.
Pulling a lipstick from her clutch, the woman says, “You’re the Rosalia everyone’s talking about. Sebastian’s temporary rebound.”
What the hell? “Who are you?”
“Tiffany Blackstone.”
ChapterTwenty-Three
Rosalia
I stare at the woman next to me. Tiffany Blackstone. Sebastian’s ex-wife. She has the glossy beauty, that untouchable quality of someone who’s never doubted her place in the world.
Her gaze sweeps over me from head to toe. “Enjoy your little fairy tale while it lasts,” Tiffany purrs with a smirk. “Because when the clock strikes midnight, you’ll be back where you belong.”
“Excuse me,” is all I canmanage.
“You may have caughtmySebastian’s eye for now,” Tiffany’s focus drops to my designer heels that her ex-husband bought. “But we both know that shoe doesn’t really fit. Sooner or later, he’ll realize it.”
I straighten my shoulders. Anyone who treated a partner’s love as though it were worth less than fool’s gold won’t make me cower. “From what I understand, you’re hardly in a position to judge anyone else’s character. I might not be rich, but you’re the one who doesn’t have any class.”
Tiffany’s flinch is almost imperceptible, and a flicker of something like shame crosses her face. She opens her mouth as if to retort, then closes it. “Perhaps I deserved that,” she concedes, her voice tight. “But it doesn’t change the facts. You’re out of your depth. You’re also temporary.”
She obviously doesn’t like that her ex is dating, but why? She cheated on him with his brother, no less. The marriage couldn’t have been that important to her.
“What is your deal with me?” I challenge.
“You’re in my way,” she declares.
“Excuse me.”
“Thorne was a mistake. I want my husband back.” Her voice catches slightly on the word “husband,” and for a fleeting moment, a wistful look crosses her face. “I never should have let him go,” she confesses softly, almost to herself. Then, as if she remembers where she is and who she’s talking to, her expression hardens again. “And we would reconcile if he’d take my calls. Agree to meet with me.”
I have to admire the woman’s confidence. She stands here, speaking about Sebastian like he’s a possession she misplaced rather than a person she hurt. Something about her tone, so certain and entitled, makes me take a small step back.
I’m silent for a long moment, considering my words carefully. Then, I say, “I’m not going to pretend to understand what happened between you two. That’s your history, your story. But I do know this: Sebastian is an amazing man. He’s kind, generous and so deeply good. And he deserves to be with someone who sees that, who appreciates him for who he is.”
My heart squeezes. Given the deal I’ve made with Thorne, I don’t deserve him either.
Tiffany stares at me, seemingly at a loss for words, but quickly finds them. “You are out of your league. A man like Sebastian will never fall for a woman like you.”
She pulls on the handle to leave, but freezes. Sebastian is standing right outside. His gaze lands on Tiffany and turns sub-zero. She steps to him and the door swings shut behind her.
I should exit as well. Instead, I rest my palms on the cool tile of the sink. My shoulders sag as I inhale deeply. Tiffany’s words ring in the empty bathroom, echoing my deepest insecurities. I am out of my league. I’m fooling myself into thinking that, even if I find a way to save my store without Thorne, I’ll ever belong in Sebastian’s world.
Exhaling a sigh, I straighten and leave the restroom. Tiffany is gone, but not Sebastian. He moves toward me, and I see the worry in his eyes.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“I’m fine.”
He looks from me to his ex-wife’s retreating back. “Did she say something to you?”
