The crowd adores his self-deprecating humor, and they can see, can’t they? I stake no claim on him, but Luke is undeniably gorgeous in a tuxedo. He touches my shoulder to urge me out of his shadow.
“Allow me to introduce you to your other host this evening,” he says. “Elsie Hoskins. Some of you from the mainland may know her.”
Bless him. I’m sure absolutely no one in this room knows me.
“Our resident historian is a former Rhodes Scholar—”
Smile.
The muscles in my face freeze.
I can’t.
I knot my dress around the fingers that refuse to stay still by my side. The crowd is paying too much attention to me. Do I know a single soul in this room? My eyes drift from table to table until I notice a familiar face hovering in the back.
Sawyer cocks his chin. I can imagine his deep voice beside my ear. “You need to be brave, Elsie Hoskins.”
A smile bursts across my face. He nods his approval, and that subtle praise is electric all the way to my toes. That gorgeous man has just given me one of the best orgasms of my life. I look pretty. I’ve studied my notes from front to back for days on end.
Maybe Icando this.
I wait beside Luke, nodding along as he explains the auction process and checks that everyone knows how to use their paddles, but I’m distracted by the swish of white satin on the other side of the room.
Kristen huddles beside Mallory Something-or-Other. Do they know each other? They are deep in conversation until Kristen’s head snaps around and her eyes narrow on me. She shoots forward. Mallory claws at her—she’s trying to stop her—but Kristen dodges her hand and charges for the stage.
Oh, God… She’s coming for me…
Kristen’s shoulder hits me, knocking me sideways as she barges past, and she snatches the microphone from Luke.
“Kris,” he snaps, “what in the bloody hell—”
“Good evening!” she cries to the crowd.
The reply is a confused murmur rippling through the restaurant.
“Wasn’t that a wonderful introduction from our very own chef Luke Gallo?” Kristen continues. “Who would’ve guessed all those fun facts about Elsie! Our local medical receptionist is a Rhodes Scholar! She’s braved the desert heat to visit the ancient city of Petra! Isn’t she ever so kind to humble us all with her presence?”
My eyes whip everywhere, my pulse racing faster than the whispers spreading from table to table.
“Kris.” Luke stands with his hands on his hips, frowning, probably mulling over when he should snatch the microphone back. “What the bloody hell are you playing at?”
“You’ll see,” she hisses.
Mallory wilts against the wall on the other side of the restaurant. What the hell has she told Kristen?
Kristen takes a grand step to the edge of the makeshift stage. “Unfortunately, Chef Gallo left out the best part! Our Elsie here is none other than Elspeth Whitehall.”
Every beat of my heart is thunder inside my chest. The restaurant spins. Am I going to faint? Frantic, I search for Sawyer. He ignores Kristen’s antics on the stage. A concerned frown has sharpened his features, and his eyes fix on me.
“That’s right!” Kristen continues. “She’s married to the one and only tech wonder Ethan Whitehall. Sorry. My bad. Sheusedto be married to him.” Kristen cackles a laugh. “I’m sure we’ve all seen the stories about him enjoying the millions he made listing on the stock exchange and spending it on a never-ending roster of models.” She directs her sickly-sweet smile to me. “Tell us, Elsie, was he sleeping around before or after your divorce?”
A crushing, inescapable weight pins me to the stage. This is truly one of the most humiliating moments of my life. The tears—it’s always the stupid tears—pool in my eyes.
Kristen is heartless. She’s cruel. More than anything, I wish I were brave enough to march across the stage and tear her apart with clever words, but I’m desperately clawing at every last bit of strength inside me not to collapse in front of the sea of unknown faces staring back at me.
“Els…”
I shrug off Luke’s hand and step forward, frantically searching for my anchor in the back of the room. If I can just get to Sawyer…
