Page 29 of Passion and Privilege

I swallowed hard, trying to push away the thought. “I don’t know, Amber. I really don’t want to think about it.”

Amber nodded and her eyes filled with sympathy. But nothing she could say would make this better, and we both knew it. She placed the invitation back on the workbench as if it were a live grenade.

“I’m sorry, Catherine,” Amber repeated in a quiet voice, her hand reaching out to squeeze mine. It was a small comfort in the midst of everything crumbling around me.

“I can’t believe I went out with that asshole for five fucking years and never even got a ring.”

“Why would he invite you?” Amber finally asked, her eyes narrowing. “That’s really messed up.”

I shook my head, still unable to comprehend the situation. “Maybe he told her I was a distant cousin or something.”

“Or he’s an asshole and wanted to rub it in,” she spat. “Heaven knows you dropped enough clues about marriage. He had to know that’s what you were thinking. This might be his way of sticking it to you, twisting the knife.”

“That’s sick,” I said, my voice trembling. “She must have known, right? I broke up with him in front of her!”

Amber sighed sympathetically, picking up the invitation again. “Maybe she knew and didn’t care. Some people are just like that. Homewreckers.”

How could Scott move on so quickly? The wedding was only two weeks away, and the speed of it all left me breathless.

“Are you going to go?” Amber asked, a hint of concern in her eyes.

I shook my head vehemently. The idea of witnessing Scott’s wedding was unbearable. “I’d rather jump off a cliff than go to that wedding.”

She nodded in understanding. “It says you get a plus-one. Maybe you can find a date and make him jealous.”

The thought of flaunting a date to make Scott jealous seemed petty and desperate. I stared at the woman on the invitation, her model-like looks frozen in a perfect embrace with Scott. The giant diamond on her finger caught the light.

“No,” I replied, my voice firm. “I won’t stoop to that level. I never want to see him again. I’m just glad he’s out of my life. I hope he stays gone. I truly wish him the best.”

She snorted. “Screw that. It’s not like it’s going to last. You know the old saying.”

“What saying?” I asked.

“You lose ‘em the way you got ‘em. She thinks she’s the grand prize. He’s going to cheat on her. And if she knew about you and chose to sleep with him when she knew he was involved with you, there’s a good chance she’s going to cheat on him.”

“I hate that I am hoping their marriage crashes and burns,” I said. “Does that make me a petty person?”

“No, it makes you a jilted person. A normal woman scorned.” Amber sighed. “Well, what are you going to do?”

I stood up abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. “I have to go up to the mansion. I don’t have time to deal with Scott’s crap. He can marry twenty women. I don’t care. I can’t care. I’m just glad I’m not one of the women he’s marrying.”

Amber looked startled. “You’re going to work?”

“Yes. I’m not going to sit around crying about a relationship that’s over. In fact, I think we should be celebrating. I’m not the dumbass marrying a cheating jerk.”

Amber’s brows rose in surprise. “Celebrating, huh?”

“Yes,” I replied firmly. “I need to take charge of my life again. I’m single. I’m not getting any younger. I should start dating again.”

“Absolutely,” she said, nodding. “I agree. Let’s plan a night out. We’ll drink, dance, and hopefully hook up.”

I laughed. “I like that. We’ll have to do something soon. I’m going to be pretty busy with the mansion project but I do want to go out. I need to dance.”

“I’m your girl,” she said with a wink.

After she left, I loaded up the trim work and headed back up to the mansion. My work was the only thing keeping me sane. It was something to focus on. Now that I had that stupid wedding invitation, I had another reason to work harder. The harder I worked, the less time I had to think. I arrived at Timothy’s house and grabbed the trim. I assumed Timothy was gone. He had gone back to New York yesterday and I assumed he was still there. I used my key to unlock the door. I propped the trim up against the wall and went to get the last couple of pieces before going inside. The moment I walked through the door, I was met with a sound I hadn’t expected—pop music pulsating through the house. Taylor Swift to be exact. The sound echoed off the walls.

Confused, I wandered into the foyer, scanning the area for any sign of Timothy. I never would have taken him to be a Swiftie. Unless it was Bennet. That made me laugh. I should have known there was a little Swiftie in there.