Arranged(14)

Becoming Mrs. Castelo had shifted all of that in a subtle way. I received more attention now in general, both good and bad. Opportunism battled with jealousy for what I ran into more often. There was a different winner from one day to the next.

Jealousy was definitely going to win this day, I saw as my eyes swept over the crowd on my way out of the large, crowded room.

Calder had me pulled close against him, his arm around my waist possessively.

I smiled in as friendly a way as I could muster at every single pair of eyes that met mine.

Who could guess how long this sham of a marriage would last? I didn’t know any of the other women well, but I didn’t want to be a social pariah when all was said and done.

I was ushered swiftly from the backstage to a car. It was my usual Benz, Vincent driving, Chester working security.

Silence reigned on the way to dinner. It wasn’t a comfortable silence. It was awkward with the knowledge that I didn’t know the first thing about so much as attempting to interact even casually with my husband.

And he didn’t touch me once we were closed inside of the vehicle. In fact he sat as far away from me as the backseat would allow.

Why did I feel a sharp pang of disappointment about that? The feeling was followed swiftly by irritation with myself. Foolish girl.

“When did you arrive in New York?” I asked him, my tone polite and impersonal.

He didn’t spare me a glance, his gaze trained out the window.

“Not important,” he said, his tone steeped in finality.

Chester glanced back briefly from the passenger seat to give me a sympathetic frown.

That was my first and last attempt at conversation in the car.

We arrived at Beautique in Midtown. I’d never been there, but I’d heard of it. It was a notorious hotspot for celeb sightings. I wasn’t surprised. Our entire evening together was obviously for publicity.

Calder dismissed my driver and bodyguard casually as we exited the vehicle. “We no longer need your services for the evening, gentlemen.”

“But what about security for . . .” Chester said, caught off guard. Keeping me safe had been his sole purpose for the past month. “Should we at least wait to take you home?”

Calder eyed him. It wasn’t friendly. “I think we’ll muddle through. You’re dismissed.”

Chester got back in the car, his reluctance unmistakable in every line of his body.

“He likes you,” my husband remarked dispassionately as we made our way inside. He was leading with a hand on my arm. We walked side by side with me stealing glances at his face.

I shrugged, self-conscious of his eyes studying me closely. “We spend every second together, and he’s good at his job, so of course we’re friendly.”

His mouth twisted into an ugly smile. I looked away and didn’t look back even when he spoke, his voice harsh.

“I suppose it’s second nature to you, wrapping poor schmucks around your little finger. I hope you know I’m impervious to that. To you.”

That stung enough that I couldn’t hide one gasping shocked breath. God, he was mean. “I’m aware,” I managed to volley back at him in a smooth tone.

“Good.”

We were seen to a booth the instant we walked in the door. It was early so the restaurant was quiet enough that we could speak quietly to each other and still be heard.

We sat side by side, hip to hip.

A glass of white wine was immediately placed in front of me.

I thanked the waiter, taking a deep swallow of the cold, refreshing liquid.

I’d gotten somewhat better at drinking since our wedding night. Not great, but much improved.

“Used to wine now?” my husband asked me.

I didn’t look at him, but he sounded amused. “Yes. At least, I think so. I try to have exactly two glasses at galas, no more, no less. It seems to work well.”

“Sounds wise.”

I watched his large hand as he lifted his own glass of bourbon on the rocks to his lips.

“How was London? Are you finished with your business there?” I asked him, trying to keep the conversation going. Trying to create a conversation in the first place. Also, I was curious.

“Forget about me,” he said coldly. “Tell me about you. How are you settling in? Do you like the apartment?”

“Of course,” I said automatically. “It’s very nice, thank you for asking.”

What else could I even say?

It’s perfect but also too extravagant. A lot for one person. It has the biggest, loneliest bed I’ve ever slept in.

Nope. I wouldn’t be saying any of that.

“And you have everything you need?” he asked.

“Yes, thank you,” I replied.

“If that changes, please don’t hesitate to inform Asha. She’ll make sure it’s taken care of.”

I almost laughed. I almost rolled my eyes.

Of course he didn’t tell me to inform him directly. God forbid I’d be able to communicate with my own husband.

Keep it together, I told myself. This is what you signed up for. This is what a marriage of convenience means.

It couldn’t have worked out better, I reminded myself. You don’t want to spend time with him either. Just smile, take it, and count the money.

Honestly, when I’d decided to put myself into the infamous Bride Catalogue, a husband who ignored me had been the best-case scenario. I needed to remember that.