The Safe Bet (Hidden Truths #1)(76)

That wasn’t love. Just context. True love and fairy tale endings were exactly that—fairy tales.

Every day she told herself that story. And every day, she felt she was getting a little closer to believing it.

Kate smoothed a hand over her sleek, white chiffon dress. The one-shoulder gown reached her ankles but also gave her some breathing room with a long slit up the side leg.

Take a deep breath. I’ll be fine. She shut her eyes for a moment, allowing the music to fade into the background. Just breathe.

She gave a nervous swallow as she opened her eyes and moved toward one of her employees, gliding in strappy heels across the ballroom floor. “How are things going?” she asked, trying to sound as upbeat as possible.

The young brunette looked up at Kate and smiled. “Everything is perfect. The guests look happy. The mayor looks ecstatic. The music is divine.” She nodded and looked toward the orchestra.

“Excellent. I think you guys have everything covered. I’m going to go outside for a bit and get some fresh air.”

“It’s pretty cold out. The forecast shows snow, which is way too early for November.”

“I’ll be fine.” Kate smiled, grabbed her jacket from the coat check, and reached the large set of glass doors, noticing a slight tremble in her hand.

She ignored the alarm bells that sounded in her head as she stepped out onto the empty patio area. She rubbed her shoulders a bit, but the cool air was a welcome change to her heated and flushed skin.

She looked up to see the sun beginning to set, offering a blur of orange and pink that settled midway in the sky.

She tried not to feel a little empty as she glanced inside the ballroom through the glass doors, watching the happy couples move around the dance floor. She tried not to remember that she’d met Michael because she had been hired to plan his gala.

But the memory of their first kiss on the night of the ball slipped into her head and filled her with a mixture of pleasure and sadness. She missed his lips. The way they tightened when he stared at her as if he was struggling to control his desire.

Breathe. How many times would she need to remind herself to gather oxygen into her lungs? Tonight was such an important night. Thoughts of Michael bopping around in her head would only get her in trouble.

She forced her feet to move, to walk farther out into the maze that was the ghost of a garden. She found a bench and sat down, careful not to rip her dress as she pulled the soft coat snug to her body. She clasped her hands on her lap and shut her eyes. She needed a minute.

Just one minute.

“I thought that was you. What are you doing out in this frigid weather?”

When she opened her eyes, she found herself looking at Erick Jensen. Throughout the coordination of the event, she had spent a lot of time working with him—at his insistence. “Taking a break,” she said, offering him a small smile. “How’s your wife? Feeling any better?”

“She has a touch of the stomach bug.” He took a seat next to her and rubbed his hands together. His black blazer was most likely not keeping him warm enough. “You did an amazing job tonight. Your mother would be proud.” He moved a little closer to her, his leg brushing up against hers.

She gave a polite nod and forced herself to respond, “Thank you.”

The touch of his cool hand against her cheek stunned her. She pulled her brows together and studied him with caution, her shoulders arching back.

“God, you’re stunning.”

She ignored her nerves and moistened her lips. “Do you miss her? Elizabeth?”

The pad of his thumb had brushed across her lips before he placed his hand on her thigh. “Having you here has made me miss her a lot more.”

She could see him swallow. “The flowers you had delivered to my office two weeks ago—the white tulips . . . you said they were my mother’s favorite, right?”

He nodded, his eyes darkening as he focused on her mouth.

“When you had tulips delivered to my hotel back in Charlotte in September—how’d you even know I was in the city?”

“I—” He tilted his head to the side and eyed her. “Eh, what are you—”

“Do you ever visit my mom’s grave?”

“Kate, what’s going on?”

“You loved her, didn’t you?” His hand on her forearm sparked a warning inside of her, but she disregarded it. “Erick, please, just tell me—did you love her?”

He looked up to the heavens and back at her again, his eyes ablaze with . . . something. “Yes.”

“Do you want me? Do you want me because I look like her?” Erick’s mouth dropped open, and he gaped at her in silence. “Erick?” She stood up.

“I cared very much for her, and you look so much alike. It can be confusing.” He rose to his feet and braced his hands on her shoulders, urging her toward him. “Yes—yes, I want you.”

“Then tell me the truth. Tell me what actually happened to her. I won’t blame you. I promise. I need to know what happened.”

Without responding, he reached for her, his mouth covering hers.

She struggled against him and pulled free. “You killed her,” she rasped, unable to stop herself. “You killed my mother. Admit it.” Her voice was raw now. And her body warm from adrenaline.

Erick had changed at that moment. He no longer studied her with a love-struck gaze. His face grew taut with emotion—with rage. “I want you, Kate. I need you. Let’s forget the past and move forward.”