Page 62 of The Betrayer
IWAS STRAIGHTENINGmy tie in the mirror when there was a knock on my door. I glanced at my watch. I had an hour and a half before dinner, and I wasn’t expecting anyone tonight. Did I forget to sign something, and they sent it by courier? But Tara would have texted me, and my screen was free of text bubbles. The doorman hadn’t called ahead to ask about a visitor.
The knock came again. “Just a second,” I called as I finished with the tie, but I must not have said it loud enough because there was a third knock as I crossed my apartment.
“I’m coming,” I called, annoyed at whoever had so little patience.
I put my eye to the peephole and stopped, my hand frozen on the doorknob. It was Angela.
“Paul?” I heard and saw her say, her expression one of confusion.
Shaking off my surprise, I unlocked the door and pulled it open.
“Angela? What are you doing here?”
My girlfriend was dressed for a nice night out—a little black dress, heels, and the pearl earrings I had bought her for her birthday.
“I’m here for you, silly.” She smiled and pushed past me into my apartment without another word or more explanation.
“For me?” Had I forgotten something important?
She glanced over her shoulder at me and shot me a flirtatious smile. “The business dinner tonight, of course. Why else?”
The business dinner? I hadn’t invited Angela to the business dinner. I’d talked to her about it, yes, especially as it pertained to my father and his date. But I hadn’tinvitedher to the dinner. How had she even known the time? Had she called Tara or checked my phone?
Had Angela just invited herself to an important business dinner?
For a moment, I watched my girlfriend wander around my apartment. She had already kicked off her heels and was reaching into a cabinet for a wine glass. She grabbed a bottle of wine from the wine fridge, pulled the cork, and poured herself a small glass.
I should have enjoyed the scene—Angela was clearly at home in my apartment. At that moment, after inviting herself to my business dinner, it just seemed presumptuous. Yes, we were serious, but were we serious enough that she could assume she was coming with me to an important business dinner? Even if my father were bringing a friend, the others in the party would be bringing their wives, as I had pointed out our last night in China, that wasn’t Angela. Not yet.
Maybe not ever. Especially not when they assumed a sort of control in my life that I hadn’t given to them.
I had been too busy with the takeover now that I was back in the pilot seat to think any more about it. Truthfully, it was a welcomed distraction. I wasn’t ready to think about it yet, either.
“Hey, we have to leave soon. Are you ready?” Angela took another sip of her wine as she padded over to me.
“Yeah, almost,” I managed to stutter.
“Good. You told your father not to be late, and we don’t want to be, either.” She put her hand up to my tie, made a face, and turned to put the glass of wine on the entryway table next to the door. She was back a moment later, fixing the tie I had just spent five minutes fixing on my own.
Angela had invited herself to my business dinner, and she was fixing my tie like she was my mother. There wasn’t anything wrong with it, but I pulled away, annoyed. For a moment, she looked nonplussed but shrugged it off and turned to pick up her wine glass.
“I’m almost ready. The car is going to be here in ten minutes.”
I stalked back into my room without waiting for an answer. When I reached the safety of the bathroom, I had to lean back for a moment and close my eyes while I took deep breaths. I needed my focus and calm tonight, not for my head to be stuck in my annoyance at my girlfriend’s presumptuousness.
It was fine. It was all fine. I didn’t mind her coming, especially since Dad was bringing someone. Maybe she could temper things if it all went downhill and Dad started acting like himself again. It was all some kind of misunderstanding. I had invited her to the gala, after all. Why wouldn’t she expect to come tonight? And plenty of wives and girlfriends fixed their partner’s ties.
It was fine.
As I finished getting ready in the bathroom, I could hear Angela moving around, flipping on the TV to the news, and pouring more wine.
It was a domestic scene, calm and normal and peaceful. But it didn’t feel normal. It didn’t give me the sense of peace I had always envisioned.
Was it me? Was there something wrong with me? Why didn’t I want what Angela was offering—a partner, a home, a life together with someone? It was true I didn’t believe in marriage. I’d seen too many, including my parents’, crumble. I had something now, yet, I seemed to be actively trying to disentangle myself from it.
Or was the problem with Angela? On paper, she was perfect for me. But did she possess something, or lack something, that kept me from connecting with her on a deeper level? And the bigger question: was it something I could be okay with, push through, get past, to find what I had been searching for?
I straightened my tie again. Angela had knocked it slightly askew when she was fussing with it. She couldn’t stop seeming to meddle at the worst times, like flying to China in the middle of the biggest business deal of my career. I hadn’t quite gotten over my frustration with the entire incident, wondering what exactly she had thought she was doing or what she thought would happen.
