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She wore minimal makeup, a placid expression, and her hair gathered into a flawless, elaborate bun.
I stiffened, finding it hard to meet her penetrating gaze. She was privy to my indiscretions with her fiancé.
It didn’t matter that both of us had agreements with him—and neither of us had technically broken them. Up until this moment, I’d managed to avoid her in the sprawling mansion, thanks to her disappearing act.
Now, she was like a mirror, forcing me to look my sins in the eye.
I stood.
“Oh, please, Miss Ballantine.” Eileen waved a hand. “You’re not an employee of mine. You can sit back down.”
“I’m an employee of yourfiancé’s.” The word scorched a path up my throat, burning my tongue.
“Even so, I come to you today as a woman speaking to another woman.”
My heart spiraled downward dangerously fast.
Eileen slid beside me, forcing me to scoot to the edge of the bench.
She propped her bag on her lap. “I appreciate you for coming here.”
“I don’t appreciate you tricking me into thinking it was Zach who invited me here.”
“Perhaps you don’t appreciate it, but surely you can understand it.” Eileen nodded. “That’s why I kept it vague. I couldn’t riskyou refusing my request. Time is not on my side in this matter.”
I clung to my mask of indifference, feeling a looming catastrophe barreling straight into my life. “How can I help you?”
“I think we both know how you can help me.” She rummaged for something in her bag, lips pinched together. “Stop fucking my fiancé.”
Her demand sliced my chest, reached deep into my heart, and grabbed it. There was no point denying the obvious, even if it was my knee-jerk reaction.
If nothing else, Eileen deserved the truth.
I retreated into my jacket, forcing words out of my mouth. “It’s not serious.”
Not a lie.
For Zach, at least.
He repeatedly reminded me—and himself—that we were just a temporary arrangement.
Still, it felt dirty to say. Like a white lie.
Eileen’s eyes explored my face. Behind them, I saw so much of the same emotions I’d been drowning in. Agony, jealousy, and desperation. Raw self-pity that made it hard to breathe.
Her eyes glossed-over with tears, but I knew she wouldn’t let them fall. Eileen, like me, viewed vulnerability as weakness. She didn’t allow herself to break.
“It might not be serious for you, but it’s serious to me.” She flattened her dress, smoothing out a wrinkle. “My dream has always been to marry him.”
I reared my head back, brows pinched together. “I thought you didn’t even know each other until a few months ago?”
She rubbed her red nose, shaking her head. “Goodness gracious, aren’t you naïve?”
Shoving her hand inside her bag again, she retrieved a tiny old-school photo album, handing it to me. I flipped it open.
My heart sank further when my eyes landed on the first two pictures. Two squishy babies with thigh rolls and matching mullets grinned at me.
No.
