Innocence (Tales of Olympus #1)(65)

Cora reached for her glass of water. After a long swallow, she thumped her glass down, almost sloshing water onto the tablecloth.

“She’s old news, honey. He’s only got eyes for you. I’ve seen the way that man looks at you.”

Cora barely stopped herself from scoffing. If Armand only knew.

And what the hell was she doing wasting energy thinking about this anyway? Cora turned to Armand, angling her back away from Marcus. Tonight was about developing relationships. And yes Armand was Marcus’s friend… Or maybe they had some business together? Cora didn’t know what a crime lord and a fashion designer might have in common but still, Armand was a start. The more information she had, the better.

“So, tell me how you’ve been. How is the line doing? And the spas? You’ve opened a chain of upmarket spas, right?”

“Ugh, they’ve been running me ragged. I thought being an entrepreneur and being my own boss meant I got to set my own hours and sleep in. Ha! I work from dawn till dusk and still never get to half the things on my to do list.” He leaned in. “Probably doesn’t help that I party from dusk till dawn.” He winked.

Cora barked out a laugh, startling herself. How long had it been since she’d genuinely laughed? It felt good. It felt really good.

Cora reached out and gave Armand’s forearm a squeeze, letting go almost as quickly as she touched him. But her smile was genuine when she said, “It’s good to see you, Armand. Really good to see you.”

“Armand,” Marcus’s deep voice came from behind Cora. She jumped in her chair and craned her neck to look up at him. He set a hand possessively on her shoulder before sitting down beside her.

“How’s business?” Marcus asked and Armand transferred his attention to him.

Cora watched Marcus. Had he seen her touch Armand? Was he mad at her about it?

But Marcus seemed at ease. More at ease than he’d been all night, relaxed back in his seat and sipping from a glass of bourbon he’d picked up from somewhere as he and Armand chatted about the newest spa Armand had opened. Unlike with other people Marcus had chatted with tonight, he and Armand seemed genuinely friendly.

Waitstaff came around and collected cards asking which entrée they’d like, and Cora excused herself to the restroom.

Marcus stood up at the same time she did and his eyes skewered her. She heard his unasked question.

She leaned up on tiptoe and whispered in his ear. “Let me guess, you have thugs guarding the ballroom and I’ll be snatched up and taken back to the penthouse if I take a step out of line?”

Marcus wound a hand around her waist and pulled her up tight against him. His breath was hot on her ear as he answered, “Something like that. I expect you back within ten minutes. If you don’t, I will come looking for you. Or one of my…thugs will.” When he pulled back, the corner of his mouth twitched.

He gave her waist one last squeeze and let her go. But Cora could still feel his touch long after she’d walked away from the table toward the restroom.

She went to the bathroom, relaxing only when she closed the door to the stall. What was she doing? Had she actually felt jealous of that woman out there? When what she was meant to be doing here was trying to find a way to escape?

She dropped her face into her hands but lifted it again quickly. She couldn’t afford to muss her makeup. She rolled her eyes at the ridiculousness of her situation.

Talk about a gilded cage.

But sitting on the toilet wasn’t going to get her anywhere. So she flushed and opened the stall, heading for the sink. She was so in her own head, she didn’t even really notice the woman who’d opened the door as she began to wash her hands.

“So, you and Marcus Ubeli.”

Cora looked up and her eyes widened at seeing the elegant blonde had stepped in the door. The same woman Marcus had been talking to earlier.

“I have to say, bravo. I thought that man would be a bachelor for life. He always did like his fuck toys young but I never imagined he’d go and marry one.”

The woman advanced and stood at the mirror beside Cora. She settled her clutch on the bathroom counter and pulled out a tube of lipstick. Her dress was black, the lipstick fire engine red. She looked to be in her mid-30s. She was stunning, refined, sophisticated. The kind of sophistication that came from experience and not a fancy dress.

Cora couldn’t help staring at her as she began touching up her lipstick that already looked perfect.

The woman’s eyes slid back to Cora. “Well, aren’t you a quiet little mouse.” She put the top back on the tube of lipstick and closed her clutch with a snap.

Cora still didn’t say anything. It wasn’t like she could defend her relationship with Marcus or would even want to. He didn’t mean anything to her. She hated him.

“Really? Nothing to say? You know he and I have been lovers for years? I was supposed to be seated beside you but you saw how upset he became. It’s still so raw between us. We fight like cats and dogs and then we make up passionately, that’s how it’s always been. But trust me, he always comes back to me.”

The woman looked Cora up and down, eyes narrowing, obviously waiting for a response to her cattiness.

And it wasn’t that her words didn’t make Cora feel small and little. They did. This was not her world. She didn’t know the rules to the games these people played, Marcus least of all.