Amie
Lex and Bane work out the catering issue, which thankfully was just a small miscommunication. Or at least that’s what Bane tells Ruby. Either way, as long as the situation is handled it’ll be fine. Ruby agrees to keep quiet about Lex at least until I’ve had a chance to talk to him; after that she tells me she plans to harass the crap out of him. Which likely won’t be until much later. I don’t have time to dwell on the impending conversation because I’m put to work by Mimi the moment I step into the ballroom. My job is to double check place cards and verify seating arrangements, making adjustments for last-minute changes.
Mimi hands me a glass of champagne and a clipboard with a seating chart before she puts her hand on my shoulder. “I have to tell you something.”
For a moment I consider the possibility that she’s found out her son and I are sleeping together, then I realize she probably wouldn’t be all sweet about it if she did. I force a smile and wait. She really is lovely. If I hadn’t married Armstrong maybe I’d have a nice mother-in-law, rather than a fire-breathing dragon. But I did and that’s on no one but me. Armstrong was another poor decision in my history of bad boyfriends, and I’d made him a permanent one. Hopefully that will be rectified soon. If I turn out to be some kind of revenge screw for Lex, then I probably deserve it for being so blind and stupid in the first place. I really hope I’m not.
I realize I’ve missed Mimi’s revelation. “I’m sorry, pardon?”
“I’ve told her that she’s not to bring up Armstrong with you.”
“You’ve told who?”
“Gwendolyn, my sister. She’s coming tonight.”
“Oh, okay.” I’m fairly certain my eyes are going to pop out of my head. I suck in a few deep breaths.
Mimi encourages me to take a sip of my champagne, then tips the glass up for me so I take another.
“I have her seated on the other side of the room during dinner.”
“Okay. That’s good.” My anxiety still spikes. “What about Armstrong? Is he coming?”
“He wasn’t invited.”
But that doesn’t mean he won’t come. Being the pampered baby he is, Armstrong doesn’t like being left out.
“I wanted you to be prepared. I know Gwen can be . . . difficult, and that Armstrong is”—she glances around, making sure no one is close enough to hear our conversation—“a bit of a prick.”
I laugh. “That’s one way to describe him.”
She smiles piteously and takes my hand. “To be quite honest, I was rather surprised when he announced your engagement since you’re so sweet, but then I thought maybe you inspired change in him.” She sighs. “Anyway, there’s a lot going on with my sister’s family and regardless of what’s happened between you and Armstrong, I just want you to know that I think the world of you, and I’m so sorry for my nephew’s behavior.”
“You don’t need to apologize, Mimi.”
“Well, someone should after what he’s put you through. He’s always been competitive and as he got older he became rather . . . self-absorbed. We had some difficulties when he and Lex were younger.”
“They really don’t get along at all, do they?” I’m baiting her, because I want to hear what she has to say.
“Unfortunately, no. I suppose part of that is my fault.”
“I don’t understand how you could be responsible for how they feel about each other.”
“They were forced together as children, and as a result they were very close, but often antagonistic. Lexington has always been mischievous.” She leans closer and winks. “Kind of like me and you, I think, and maybe Ruby, which is why I like her so much. Armstrong always seemed to toe the line better. At least that’s how it appeared. Armstrong could be malicious. It’s very different from a bit of harmless trouble, you understand?”
“I think so.” I’m very familiar with Lex’s mischievous side. It comes out frequently in the bedroom, and in the sneaking around we’ve been doing since returning to New York, not to mention how things played out in Bora Bora. But, I can also see what Mimi is saying about Armstrong being spiteful, especially with his refusal to sign the annulment papers.
“Lex didn’t do things with the intention of hurting anyone, but Armstrong was different. He tended to go a step too far. He liked getting under Lexington’s skin. There was an incident when they were teenagers. I’m afraid my sister and I didn’t handle it well and things were never the same between those boys. I’d hoped as adults that might change, but I don’t know that it’s in Armstrong’s nature to forgive, or Lex’s to forget.” She gives me a sad, questioning smile, but before I can respond, or ask more questions, the event organizer interrupts, requiring her attention.
She hugs me and hands me the seating arrangements before she leaves me on my own, with all of my churning thoughts and fears. I don’t see Lex before the party begins and when I do, I purposely remain in highly public areas, forcing him to keep an acceptable distance.
By five, cocktail hour has begun and I’m a mess—at least on the inside. Engagement parties thrown by the Millses are almost as elaborate as a wedding. This far exceeds my engagement party with Armstrong, and I thought that was extravagant.
Appetizers are served, a plated dinner follows, then more cocktails, conversation, and music. It’s an evening of excess with a room full of incredibly wealthy people, and a precursor to what Bane and Ruby’s wedding will be like, if they allow Mimi to take control of it. I’m not entirely convinced that’s going to happen. Ruby, who’s very accustomed to being the center of attention, still seems overwhelmed, and that’s saying something.
I can barely eat during dinner, constantly on guard. Gwendolyn might be sitting on the opposite end of the ballroom, but she’s certainly keeping tabs on me. Not to mention, I can feel Lex’s eyes on me from the opposite side of the table. I wish we were at a long table and not a round one.
As the conflict piles on, and I watch Ruby interact with Bancroft’s family, I begin to see exactly how challenging this thing with Lex really is, with or without these new developments. If what’s happening between us becomes public the complications will grow exponentially. I won’t be able to avoid Gwendolyn or Armstrong, or the rest of his family, because it will tie me to them irrevocably. It’ll invite all kinds of new issues.
Ones I’m not sure I’m prepared for yet, even if I want to be.
It would be another messy situation that could bring more negative attention to my family. The kind I thought I was going to leave behind when I married Armstrong. As I sit here, I mourn the future I thought I would have with the version of Armstrong who didn’t really exist and my fear over the potential loss of something amazing with Lex. With him I don’t feel confined by someone else’s idea of who or what I should be. I worry that part of that freedom is rooted in the secrecy of it all.
After dinner, I busy myself with more duties that keep me away from Lex, who’s engaged in conversations with the suits. Even so, I can feel his eyes on me whenever I pass him. I know he’s concerned, but I don’t have time to acknowledge it now. And I don’t want to. All I want is to escape. To run. Because I’m scared to face all of this.
The emotions swirl with the cocktail combination swimming in my system. I should probably slow down on the wine. I excuse myself to the restroom so I can take a moment to collect myself.
I manage to make it to the foyer unaccosted. But before I can get much further I spot the one person in the entire world I definitely don’t want to see. Well, actually, there are a few people I would be happy to never see again. I have a short list of ex-boyfriends who fit that profile, but Armstrong tops that list.
He’s skulking in a corner, like some kind of creep. I make a beeline for the ladies’ bathroom, hoping I can get there before he makes it to me. I’m not quick enough in my heels. Also, I’ve had three glasses of wine and not enough food. My head isn’t a hundred percent clear and I’m a little turned around.
The hand at my elbow catches me off guard, but the mouth at my ear makes my skin crawl. “Don’t make a scene, darling.”
It’s exactly what I should do, but before I can react and make a smart decision, I’m led through the closest door, which happens to be a coatroom.
“Get your hands off me.” I yank my arm out of Armstrong’s grip and shove away from him.
There’s no residual evidence of his broken nose, the marks on his face have all disappeared, nothing compared to the marks he’s left on my heart. Not just because he broke it with his actions, but because his dishonesty is and was so horribly hurtful, and he still refuses to set me free.
He looks me over, his cheek ticking as he takes in my dress. I can practically feel his disapproval. If only he could see what I’m wearing under this. Zero white lace or satin happening.
“Why are you here?” There’s a tremor in my voice, but it’s not fear, it’s anger. Anger at this situation. Anger at myself for making such a poor decision for all the wrong reasons. Because I didn’t trust my gut. And now I have to wonder if I’ve misread everything and I’m making another mistake with Lex.
Armstrong gives me a look that makes me feel about two inches tall. Until he speaks. “You won’t take my calls and they won’t let me past the front desk at your work, when else was I going to have an opportunity to see you?”
“You don’t need to see me. At all. Ever. That’s what our lawyers are for. It’s been months of back and forth over this. Just sign the papers and be done with me, Armstrong.”
He blinks several times, his agitation obvious. I doubt it in any way matches mine. “I don’t want to be done with you.”
I throw my hands in the air. “You can’t win me back. Nothing you can say or do is going to change my mind. You will never convince me to get over what you’ve done.”
He seems to consider that for a second, and then his eyes light up a little. “What if you were the only one?”
“For the love of God, Armstrong, that shouldn’t even be a question. It should’ve been only me from the beginning. For the rest of our lives.” I flail angrily. “But that’s not even the point now. I don’t want to be with you. The knowledge that I ever let you touch me, let you inside my body, makes me want to vomit. Do you get that? I can’t even stand your face.”
“Your explanation is sufficient, if not excessively dramatic.” He lifts one placating hand.
I would like to cut it off with a hacksaw and shove it down his stupid, useless throat. I think I should stop watching horror movies with Ruby for a while.
“You can’t hold this grudge forever, it’s unreasonable.”
I wonder if there’s a clinical diagnosis for his kind of messed up. I’ve had about as much of Armstrong as I can handle. I need to get out of here and away from him. “I don’t have anything else to say to you.”
I turn away, toward the door. His next words freeze me.
“I know about Mexico.”
The pit in my stomach opens back up, churning. I slowly turn to face him. “Excuse me?”
His smile is smug. “Mexico. I know about it.”
I cross my arms over my chest so he can’t see my shaking hands. “What exactly do you think you know about Mexico?”
“You have quite the history of bad behavior, don’t you, Amalie?”
“Your definition of bad behavior is rather skewed, don’t you think?”
“I think an arrest record counts. Your father had to work pretty hard to keep that under wraps, didn’t he? It really isn’t very good for business, is it?”
“I don’t have an arrest record.” I was just hanging out with someone who did, which was essentially the issue.
“I wonder how that would go over with your current employer, knowing how closely aligned you’ve been with known felons.”
“Are you trying to blackmail me into staying married to your pathetic, tiny-dicked ass?”
“My dick is more than adequate. Maybe you’ve just been overly free with who you put out for and you’re too worked in.”
I cross the room in three quick strides, hand poised to slap that smug smile off his face, but he’s expecting the attack. He grabs my wrist and steps into me, folding my arm behind my back as he pushes me against the wall. His grip on my arm sends a shot of pain to my shoulder. “You’re hurting me.”
“You were going to hit me, again, I’m defending myself.”
“This is harassment.”
He scoffs and suddenly his expression is dark, that smug smile dropping. “You may want to reconsider your position on this annulment, Amalie. In addition to your history of physical violence, I don’t think it would go over well if people found out about your time in prison.”
I didn’t spend any time in a cell, but the eight hours I spent in an interrogation room inside a Mexican airport surrounded by men who wore sashes made of bullets was enough to scare me straight. It’s also one of the reasons I ended up with Armstrong.
He has the ability to spin this however he wants. Truth doesn’t necessarily trump the excitement of scandal. Regardless of how much he embellishes, this kind of thing would be highly damaging and hard to recover from. It could be on the same level as the events at our wedding, which were easy to hide with his family being in control of so many of the media-related sites. Even if it’s untrue, it could certainly taint my reputation and cost me a lot more than dignity. “Why are you doing this? What do you want from me?”
He’s so close. I can feel the warmth of his breath on my cheek. I hate that he’s touching me. “Finally, a reasonable question. I want you to be my wife, at least on paper. I can overlook your past and your promiscuity and you can overlook my extracurriculars and we can both be happy.”
“My promiscuity?” I struggle against his hold on my wrist. “Get off me.”
Armstrong releases me and steps back quickly, possibly to avoid my potential wrath. I’m spitting mad, but he has my attention, that’s for sure.
He adjusts his suit jacket, that dark smile still curving the corner of his mouth. “Do you really think I would marry someone I hadn’t done a background check on? I’m pragmatic, Amalie. Your family has money. My family has a well-established business that requires some support. Like I said before, when I came to Bora Bora, I can help elevate your social status and you can assist my family in keeping our empire afloat.”
Mimi said there were things going on with his family, now I have to wonder if this is what she meant. “Did you ever even like me? Does that even matter to you?”
“You’re lovely to look at and you complement me well when you’re behaving. I also quite enjoyed fucking you.” His smile is more of a leer. “I thought with time you’d settle into your role. I assumed you’d managed your vengeful side while you were in Bora Bora, getting played by my cousin. You do realize Lexington is just using you to get back at me.”
“Why would he do that?” This conversation makes it feel like my wine wants to come back up and revisit the world.
Armstrong’s smile is triumphant. “So you are letting my cousin fuck you.”
“That’s not what I said. I asked you why he would use me to get back at you. What would be the purpose of that?”
Armstrong’s expression is one of pompous satisfaction. “Because he doesn’t like it when I take the things he wants.”
“Am I somehow one of those things? Tell me, Armstrong, why did you ask me out in the first place?”
His brow furrows, the shift confusing him. “Don’t try to change the topic.”
“I’m not. It’s a question directly related to this conversation. Why did you introduce yourself and ask me to dance?”
He adjusts his tie. It’s a tell. A sign he’s uncomfortable, or being caught in some kind of lie. He does it a lot. “I told you why. I was saving you from making a mistake, one it appears you’ve decided to make anyway, despite my best efforts. I also thought you were attractive.”
“Right, of course, you were saving me from Lex. Can you explain what you meant when you said Lex doesn’t like it when you take the things he wants?”
“He has an inferiority complex when it comes to me.”
“Is that why you hate each other?” I can’t trust anything that Armstrong says, but I’m still interested in the answer.
“I don’t hate Lexington. I feel sorry for him, because he thinks he can best me, and he can’t.”
“And what is he trying to best you at?”
“You, of course.” He gives me a withering look. “You can stop lying, Amalie. I can smell his cologne all over you. I have to admit, he’s played this very smartly, although Ruby and Bancroft’s engagement party gave him an advantage.”
I have to cross my arms over my chest so I don’t dick punch him again. “This a game to you.”
“Not at all.”
“Are you sure? Because that’s exactly how it sounds. Like I was a game you were playing to win.”
“He walked away from you. That’s not my fault.”
“Are you referring to the night we met? If so I’ll assume this entire thing with me is game to you. Good job on winning, too bad I’m not some medal you can show off.”
He has the audacity to look affronted. “That’s not why I asked you to marry me, though.”
I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. “No. That was about money. Jesus Christ, Armstrong, this whole thing between us has been about you getting what someone else wanted, or whatever would best benefit your status. Is that the world you live in? Where people’s emotions are just an inconvenient side effect of the games you play with them?”
“I’m not the only one involved here. Have you questioned why Lexington was in your bridal suite on our wedding day?”
It feels like I’ve stepped in quicksand I can’t get free from. I can’t tell truth from lies anymore.
My lack of immediate response spurs him on. “Do you really think it’s a coincidence that his date seduced me and then he ends up alone with you? Come on, Amalie, you’re smarter than that.”
“Seduced? What a crock of shit.” My whole body feels suddenly numb.
“Regardless of your perception, Brittany came on to me, not the other way around.”
“And that’s supposed to make it okay?”
“I’m just explaining. People make mistakes.” It might be easier to hear if he sounded contrite rather than annoyed.
“You admitted to making the same mistake multiple times. With several different people,” I remind him.
“I may have exaggerated out of anger.”
“You are unbelievable.”
He sighs, as if my continued resentment is inconveniencing him. “You can be angry, but this isn’t all on me. I’m trying to get you to see that I’m not the only one culpable here. How the hell did Lex end up in Bora Bora with you on our honeymoon? That’s far too convenient to be coincidental.”
Until all of these cards were laid out for me, I wouldn’t have agreed with Armstrong, but it seems far too impossible with all of tonight’s revelations. I recognize this is Armstrong manipulating me, but I have to wonder where the fabrications begin and where they end. Because even though I don’t want him to be right, this sounds horribly suspect. I don’t want these puzzle pieces to fit together, because it means not only was my relationship with Armstrong a lie, but this thing with Lex could be as well. And it would explain why he’s been so easy about the secrecy, encouraging it even, maybe making a game of it.
“Be honest, Amalie, how long have you been letting him fuck you? Since you left me in New York to go on our honeymoon?”
I can’t listen to Armstrong anymore or I’m going to start believing the lies he spews. If any portion of it is true, I think I may have a breakdown, the kind that might just result in some time in a padded room. I spin around, groping for the door handle.
He grabs for my arm. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Away from you.”
“You can’t run from me forever, Amalie.”
He’s right. I can’t escape this. But listening to him isn’t helping. Not when it makes me feel like I’ve run from one colossal mistake only to make even bigger one.