Fake Empire(36)

She doesn’t pull away, but she won’t meet my gaze either. This is the closest we’ve been since I carried her upstairs after discovering her on the couch. Scarlett isn’t the only one acting unaffected. I want to haul her lips to mine. I want her to be naked and be allowed to look. I want to talk with her without having to extract any syllable that isn’t cutting.

Instead, I just twirl her around the dancefloor. Silence is usually neutral. Between us, it shimmers. It has shape and substance. The quiet is weighted by all the things we aren’t saying and all the emotions we aren’t expressing.

The song ends and transitions into a new one. After a few minutes, she swallows and looks right at me. “I have an early day tomorrow.”

After our conversation in the car earlier, I know suggesting she take Saturday off is a bad idea. “So do I.” I don’t.

“I want to take the car back, Crew.”

“Fine.” I stop dancing. “Let’s go.”

Surprise flickers across her face. “You’re coming home tonight?”

“Did I tell you otherwise?”

Pink heats her cheeks. “I assumed you made plans.”

“You know what they say about people who make assumptions.”

“No, I don’t,” she challenges. “What do they say?”

“You want me to call you an ass?”

“I’ve been called worse,” she replies, then starts walking toward the exit.

I catch up with her at the coat check. “I’m getting sick of this, Scarlett. Does every conversation we have need to turn combative? You want to leave? Let’s leave. I’m not fighting you.”

“You’re making a scene.”

I grab her arm to stall her in place. “You’re mad I’m coming home? I didn’t think you’d care either way.”

“I don’t.”

“Then why are you being so difficult?” I hiss.

“Difficult?” she echoes. “I’m not the one who—”

“Are you two in line for the valet?” Fuck. I know that voice. I turn to see Hannah aiming a sweet smile my way. There’s no authenticity in the expression. “Oh. Crew.” She lets out a small, fake laugh. “I didn’t realize that was you.”

I raise one eyebrow, silently calling her out on that bullshit. “We’re not in line for the valet. Our driver is on his way.”

“Oh. All right, then.”

Still, she doesn’t move. I press my lips together, annoyed. “Hannah, this is my wife, Scarlett. Scarlett, this is Hannah Garner.” This is the first time I’ve ever introduced Scarlett as my wife. It’s bizarre to say, and equally strange to realize I like the way it sounds.

“We’ve met before,” Hannah says. “Lovely to see you again, Scarlett.”

Scarlett stares at her. “Where?”

“Excuse me?”

“You said we’ve met before. Where?”

Hannah looks flustered, but recovers quickly. “Oh. Um, it must have been at some event here? Crew loves visiting LA, but it doesn’t seem like your sort of place.”

“New York isn’t for everyone, either,” Scarlett replies.

“I prefer to visit in the summer. I hate the cold.”

“I can see why.” Scarlett’s eyes flit over the short hem and low neckline of Hannah’s dress.

Hannah stiffens. “For such a busy city, it can also feel lonely.” She glances at me—deliberately.

I’m torn between doing something and saying nothing. It’s obvious what Hannah is doing and why. She’s jealous and hurt I married someone else, despite the fact it’s been months since we were in the same state and we were never a couple. What I don’t understand is what Scarlett is doing—why she’s engaging rather than ignoring. At every turn, she’s made it clear she sees our marriage as nothing more than a business relationship, if that. I’d go so far as to say she treats her business partners with more warmth than she’s shown me. And yet—she’s sparring with Hannah rather than walking away. Not possessive per se, but not displaying total indifference either.

“If you’re so desperate for some company, maybe you should go back inside and find some,” Scarlett suggests. “Seeing as we are leaving.”

I smother a smile, not missing the way she emphasizes we.

Hannah doesn’t miss it either. She sizes Scarlett up, not bothering to cloak her dislike. “I didn’t know you were capable of caring about anything other than business, Scarlett.”

“I wasn’t aware you knew anything about me,” Scarlett shoots back. “Especially since you seem far more interested in my husband.”

Hannah smiles. Small, yet flashy and fake. She looks to me. “I hope to see you around, Crew.” Her smile turns genuine for the first time before she passes us and heads back inside.

I keep studying Scarlett.

“What?” she snaps. I think her tone was warmer toward Hannah.

I smile. “Nothing.”

Scarlett shakes her head before heading toward our car. Roman pulled up at some point during the encounter with Hannah. He climbs out to open the door, but I wave him off and open the door for Scarlett myself. She grumbles a thank you before climbing into the backseat. I slide in on the opposite side, then knock on the privacy divider to let Roman know we’re ready to depart.