Page 21 of Great Pretender
“Darn the luck. Sorry, ladies, I’ve got to run. That husband of yours is gonna drive me mad,” she says to Elodie.
Addison is also Hollis’s business partner. It’s not uncommon for her to rush off in the middle of eating.
“What’s he done now?”
“Business meeting. You know the drill. It’s safe to say he’s gonna be late getting home tonight, but I’ll see to it that he finishes at a decent time tomorrow.” She gets up and smiles. “See you later, ladies.”
“See you.”
We both wave goodbye.
I’m about to say something to Elodie when my gaze lands on the couple being ushered into the restaurant by the maître’d.
Heath and Sheila walk in, looking like the President and First Lady.
With his hand placed at the small of her back, he guides her inside, and Sheila struts along in her heels like she’s on the runway.
I won’t be a bitch and try to pick at things that are wrong with her because there’s nothing. Not a damn thing. From that auburn hair to her bright green eyes and slender model frame in her little black dress, she looks perfect, so no wonder he chose her.
I’m currently wearing the blouson and slacks I wore at work today. It was what I could grab before I saw Dad, but I’m thinking that I would have chosen something else.
Elodie follows my gaze and rests a hand on my shoulder.
“Don’t. We can go now too. I don’t have space for dessert,” Elodie says.
“Thanks… um,” I mutter, not really forming words.
We stand, and as Heath looks over to me, I wish we’d remained seated. He wouldn’t have seen us otherwise.
The look on his face is utter triumph. It’s the look-at-the-woman-I’m-with smug look of pride.
Then the bastard leans in and whispers something into Sheila’s ear. She glances over at me and giggles.
It reminds me of when I caught them together. While he at least looked like someone who’d been caught doing shit, she covered her mouth to stop herself from smiling.
Bitch.
“Come, let’s go,” Elodie says, tugging on my arm.
I follow her without a word. I can’t talk. I’m just so damn sick of everything being so bad.
Will life ever be good again?
8
Chad
“Okay, let’s think about this long and hard,” Murray says. He stares back at me, looking like he’s truly thinking.
I’m glad one of us can because I sure as fuck can’t.
We’re back in my living room, sitting on those sofas like we did nights ago. It’s like déjà vu or being stuck on repeat inThe Matrix.
Except in this version of shit, I’m landed with the task of finding a wife if I want to secure my dreams.
I still can’t wrap my head around it.
On the coffee table is the contract Dad procured. It’s taking the place of the newspapers, which I no longer care about. Today had another bout of shit when people started talking about Tiffany. I heard she was even on some celeb show on TV.
