Mended (Connections, #3)(62)

I’m saved from having to reply when his phone rings. “I’ll take this in the lounge. You have five minutes. And, Angel, you look exquisite.” He smiles before leaving, closing the bathroom door behind him.

I close my eyes again. He was never like this when we were together, was he? God, if he was, how did I never see it? And what must Xander think? He threw me yesterday. I thought I knew what to expect from him when he found out I’d married Damon. He’s an all-or-nothing, black-or-white kind of guy. I thought he’d walk away hating me, but he didn’t. Instead he searched me, for answers, for love, maybe even for hope. I didn’t expect that and he just broke my heart all over again—this time in a different way. He asked questions I hadn’t anticipated and the words stumbled out of my mouth, but not the right ones, not the ones that mattered—not the truth. That I couldn’t tell him. He has to leave me alone and I have to be the one to push him away. I can be strong for him—this I know without a doubt. He did it for me twelve years ago—I can do it for him now.

The pitch of Damon’s voice rising tears me out of my thoughts. “Angel. We have to go. Now!” he snaps. I put on my facade and walk out of the bathroom.

? ? ?

White linen tablecloths embroidered with gold threads dress the dining room of the downtown Marriott Hotel. Soft lighting sets the tone for intimate conversations and the distance between the tables lends itself to privacy. We’re escorted to a secluded table in the corner and served coffee right away. Sipping his coffee, Damon is explaining to me how to answer the interview questions in order to fast-track my career. That’s the bottom line; he needs money and for some reason he sees me as his golden ticket—although he didn’t quite put it that blatantly. He finessed the words—but I think it’s more. I wish Xander and I would have kept our reunion between ourselves, but we didn’t, so I’m doing what I have to to protect him.

Damon keeps talking and I easily distract myself from the monotony of our conversation by staring at the magnificence of the high ceiling. Its beautiful tinwork catches my eye and the molding is truly a work of art.

“Ivy, are you listening?” he asks.

“Yes,” I answer. “You want to get a single out right away to help launch me back on top of the charts.”

He pushes his cup away. “I’m hoping to have one of the songs selected by the end of the week. That should make you happy.”

I nod. I just let him go on thinking that I’m fine with our bargain—that trading Xander’s career for money is my motivation. My mother called him even after I sent her what she asked for. I guess it wasn’t enough, because she told him I was suffering from financial difficulty. From that conversation he got the perverse idea that I’m getting something out of our arrangement. As if the money ever mattered to me. I guess he really never knew me—all I wanted was to earn enough to help my sisters finish college.

A beautiful petite woman approaches us. She pulls her wavy blond hair back and fastens it with a clip she fishes out of her purse. Greeting us, she extends her hand and I scan her outfit. She’s wearing a pale gray suit, all buttoned up with a hint of black lace peeking from above the lapel of her jacket. Her high-heeled pumps scream “I’m a corporate bitch.” Right away I know she must be one of Damon’s “Yes, sir, whatever you say, sir” lackeys and I try not to roll my eyes.

“Ivy, this is Aerie Daniels. She manages Sound Music Magazine for me.”

“Aerie Daniels?” I question. “You’re the niece of Ian Daniels, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” She smiles. “I’m also a music journalist.”

“Oh, yes, of course. It’s just I’ve been following the movie reports on the progress of the planning of the No Led Zeppelin film. And I can’t wait for it to start filming and then for its release.”

“Ivy, Ms. Daniels is here to interview you, not the other way around.”

“Of course. I’m so sorry, Ms. Daniels.”

“Ivy, it’s fine,” she replies.

Damon’s phone rings. “Excuse me one moment, ladies.” He scoots his chair back quickly, nearly knocking it into the waiter. “Yes,” he answers, then pauses for a few seconds. “I’ll call you right back.” He hangs up. “Ladies, I have to return this call, but please carry on without me. Hopefully it won’t take very long. Johnny is right over at the next table if you need him.”

Damon bends to kiss my cheek and I feel the tip of his tongue on my skin. His mouth actually repulses me, but he doesn’t notice as he quickly leaves the restaurant. I absentmindedly wipe my face with my napkin and catch Aerie staring. The look on her face tells me she knows what I’m doing. Women pick up on stuff like that. I should have been more careful. But I watch her face as she stares at the doorway where Damon breezed out moments ago. The crease in her brows and the pucker of her lips tell me I might be wrong about her. The look on her face seems to perfectly match mine. It’s a look of distaste and disdain. Maybe she isn’t the savagely ambitious “Yes, sir” journalist I thought she was.

In the next moment it’s like a switch is flicked and she yanks her laptop from her oversized bag and turns it on. A grin dances across her face.

“What?” I ask.

“I’m just proud of myself. I wasn’t wrong,” she answers.