A Winter Wedding(43)
He turned. “You can cook?”
“Believe it or not.”
“What are you making?”
“How about you go ahead and put the lights on the tree and I’ll surprise you.”
Although he felt more like calling Noelle and having it out, he agreed. Coming into his house when he wasn’t home—even if it was to get her dishes—underlined how delusional she was. It didn’t matter that they’d been married. She didn’t have, and shouldn’t have, the same kind of access to his house and belongings as she once did. What was there about “divorced” that she didn’t understand?
“She’s so maddening,” he muttered. But Lourdes had used her smartphone to put on some Christmas music, and he could smell delicious scents wafting out of the kitchen. He didn’t see any reason he should let Noelle ruin the good time he could have with Lourdes.
So he put his ex, and her nasty note, out of his mind.
12
Derrick kept texting her.
Why aren’t you responding? What’s going on with you? Have you lost your mind? Do you know how much money I’d be out if I passed Crystal on to someone else?
He said plenty of other things, too, but he didn’t agree to forgo being Crystal’s manager. He was so adamant that Lourdes was being unreasonable, she was beginning to second-guess herself. Was she overreacting to the excitement a manager would naturally feel toward a promising new client? Was she letting jealousy, and her fear of failure after soaring so high, ruin the one great thing she had left—her relationship with the man she loved? Derrick often talked about how quickly some of his more successful clients turned into “divas.” He held that kind of behavior in contempt and often threw it up to her when he felt she was overstepping the bounds.
But what she was feeling had nothing to do with being a diva. No woman would enjoy having her fiancé pay too much attention to a rival. “Whatever you do, don’t act like Miriam,” he’d say, referring to one of the worst of his early clients, one he’d frequently complained about.
“You almost done?”
When Kyle came into the kitchen, Lourdes shoved her phone across the counter so she couldn’t be tempted to keep looking at it and stirred the pasta sauce simmering on the stove. “Just about. You finished with the tree?”
“I am. Come and see. It looks really good.”
She laughed at his boyish eagerness. “I will. But first...can you grab an oven mitt and take the garlic bread out? It’ll burn if we don’t do it soon.”
“Where’d you get garlic bread?” he asked as he nudged her aside to open the oven door.
“I used the rest of that loaf you bought for French toast this morning and added butter and garlic.”
“Making do, huh? I wouldn’t have expected such resourcefulness from a pampered celebrity like you.”
He was joking. She saw the twinkle in his eye. But after what she’d just been thinking, she couldn’t help taking those words halfway seriously. Was she acting pampered, or spoiled and temperamental, with Derrick? Or, since her career had taken a turn for the worse, was she trying to make him suffer along with her? (This was one of his most recent allegations. At first, she’d found it preposterous, but she had to admit that his excitement over Crystal stung all the more because of her own situation.)
“What is it?” Apparently, Kyle had been able to tell that his words hadn’t been interpreted the way they’d been intended.
“Derrick says I’m allowing my insecurities to ruin our relationship.”
“Because he knows he’s losing you and he’s feeling panicked. That doesn’t mean what he says is true.”
“Do you think that’s it? Or could what we’re going through be more my fault than I realize? I’m not in a position of strength right now. I feel hurt. It seems to me that he’s part of the problem, not someone I’m taking out my hurt and anger on. But perhaps I’m not the best judge.”
Kyle studied her for several seconds. “It might be time to hire someone.”
“Hire someone?” she echoed.
“A private investigator.”
She brought a hand to her chest. “You’re suggesting I have someone spy on him?”
“Your doubts are driving you nuts. Maybe a private investigator will be able to put your fears to rest so you can move ahead with confidence—get married, like you planned.”
And maybe a private investigator would do the exact opposite.
But wouldn’t it be better to know, once and for all? To stop second-guessing?
Her heart began to race. “Checking up on him feels creepy. I don’t want to be the type of partner who’d resort to that.”
“He’s acting so shady I’m not sure you have any choice. You told me he’d never admit that he was cheating.”
He wouldn’t. Not unless he planned to leave her for Crystal and, at this point, she doubted he’d be confident enough of someone that young. He wouldn’t want to end up without either one of them. Derrick had to have a love interest at all times; he hated being alone. “If he prefers her, he’ll have to tell me eventually.”
“He has to know what he has in you. If he’s cheating, he’s not looking for someone new. He’s having a little fun on the side.”