Page 56 of Tangled in Temptation

One night.

It was the mantra I kept replaying over and over. My tux was too tight. The music was obnoxious. Usually, I would be interested in talking to the attendees, wanting to make business connections and of course, increase the dollar amount on the checks being written to my favorite charity.

But tonight felt like I was serving a sentence.

Just a few more hours.

I drifted through the gilded ballroom like a phantom, nodding toward old business acquaintances, shaking hands with potential donors, and making small talk that felt as substantial as the champagne bubbles fizzing in my glass.

“Timothy,” came a voice from behind me. Regina. Of course. She was wearing an expensive gown that glittered under the chandelier’s light, her hair styled to perfection. But tonight, her usually captivating presence felt suffocating. She lingered too close, her perfume too strong, her laughter too shrill.

“Regina.” I greeted her with a stiff nod.

She hooked her arm through mine. “I’d like you to introduce me to some of your friends.”

She said it all with a slick smile. I was essentially her pimp or her personal matchmaker. There was nothing weird about that, right? My ex-wife was married to the man she’d cheated on me with and subsequently tried to murder, and now she wanted me to hook her up with her next victim.

Totally normal.

I forced a smile, took a sip of champagne, and led her toward a group of my associates. Introductions were made and conversations flowed, but my attention was elsewhere. I could see her looking around the room with that predatory glint in her eyes, weighing up each man like they were pieces of meat at a butcher’s shop.

The evening dragged on. I patiently listened to pointless chit-chat about company profit margins and golf scores while periodically extricating myself from Regina’s suffocating presence to mingle with other guests. The night was as much about networking as it was about charity.

I grabbed myself a scotch and found a perch to hide out in with a strategic vantage point. The grand foyer of the MET was filled with the who’s who of the New York elite. The undercurrent of wealth that flowed through the room was what drew Regina’s interest. She could give a shit about the cause. She was on the prowl.

Looking back, I had a feeling that gala events like, which were a necessary evil in my line of work, was exactly why Regina had married me all those years ago. She thrived in this environment. She loved to make small talk and flaunt her beauty and wealth. I hated every moment of it. When Regina and I were married, she’d accepted every invitation. She loved this setting.

I longed for Catherine’s presence beside me; her absence was a glaring void in the middle of all this craziness. We were supposed to attend this event together. It was supposed to be a chance for us to step away from our respective worlds and merge them. it was supposed to be a fairy tale.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t going to happen. After tonight, I was hoping I could put Regina behind me and prove to Catherine I wasn’t dragging around any more baggage.

Bennet sidled up beside me, a glass of champagne in hand. “You’re hiding,” he said.

I chuckled. “I’m observing.”

“Observing or brooding?” Bennet returned, a teasing glint in his eyes. “You’ve been nursing that scotch for quite a while.”

I held up my glass, inspecting the amber liquid. “A fine scotch deserves appreciation. And this isn’t my first or last glass.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

“I don’t know.” I shrugged.

“I can’t believe you’re here with Regina,” he muttered.

“Don’t,” I warned. “Don’t lecture me. It’s a long story.”

“And yet we have all night,” Bennet retorted, taking a sip of his champagne.

The vision of Regina across the room caught my eye. She was working her magic on some unsuspecting fool. It was a sight I’d seen countless times before. The way she moved, spoke, and cast flirtatious glances—it was all part of her web. It was hard to imagine I had ever been married to her.

“Regina is pretty happy,” he commented. “Imagine my surprise when I saw the two of you walk in together.”

“Like I said, it’s a long story,” I muttered.

“She’s blackmailing you,” he said.

“Something like that,” I muttered. “Tonight will be the last time I ever have to spend time with her.”