Page 19 of Choosing Scarlet

“She’s still getting used to people.” Knox’s voice comes from my left.

I turn toward him, and just like that, my heart twists sharply in my chest. He’s beautiful in a way that’s almost painful to look at. The photos people share of him online don’t even come close to the real thing.

I had hoped that some warmth might have returned to his expression, but the coldness is still there. A distant, unreadable look clouds his eyes. Even though curiosity burns in me, I don’t feel like I have the right to ask. I don’t even understand why he wanted me here tonight.

All I know is that the thought of him being with someone else makes something inside me tear painfully. We’re not exclusive. We’re not anything, really.

In fact, he barely seems to like me right now. So why does my heart insist on wanting only him?

“She seems to be adjusting well,” is all I manage to say. My eyes linger on his custom-tailored suit, which clings to the sharp lines of his body, and his neatly slicked-back hair. My thoughts spin in every direction, although I do everything I can to hold myself together. There are so many things I want to say and so many questions at the back of my throat, yet none of them feel possible to voice. I pull in a slow breath and return my attention to the schedule in front of us. “What’s on the agenda for tonight?”

“A business dinner,” he replies, sinking his hands into his pockets. “I expect it won’t take too long. I’m supposed to go over a few potential business opportunities. Some of my business partners insisted on bringing their wives, so …” His voice drifts off, and he gives a slight shrug before walking toward me with purposeful steps. His eyes flick toward his arm like a silent cue for me to take it. “Shall we?”

I pause for a heartbeat before I link my arm through his. My chest flutters at the simple closeness, even though I know it holds none of the meaning I wish it did. It’s still something to hold on to, at least for now. “Of course,” I respond, although a quiet question forms in the back of my mind.

What exactly am I stepping into again, and will I break my heart all over again?

The drive to the restaurant passes in silence, and the dinner itself feels exactly like the kind of business gathering I expected. The furniture is sleek and carefully polished, the servers move with practiced professionalism as they lead us to our table, and the air is filled with the stiffness of perfect etiquette. I try my best to blend in, as I always do, yet every slight movement makes me feel like I stand out. The recent shift between Knox and me only sharpens that feeling.

Knox pulls out my chair before introducing me to the men seated around the table and their wives. Mr. Lowell, beside his wife, who wears a strained smile that hints at an argument they likely had on the way here. Mr. Stanley, next to a wife who appears at least twenty years younger. Mr. Page, with his wife as well, although something about the pairing confuses me more than the others. His eyes keep drifting toward the male servers every time one passes by, full of interest he tries to disguise.

All of them seem polite enough, although I suspect their politeness has more to do with the money and influence Knox is capable of offering. Knox settles into the seat beside mine. Our chairs are only a few inches apart, yet it feels as if an entire ocean stretches between us. The formal introductions begin, although most of the words drift past me in a blur. My attention keeps returning to Knox.

It’s incredibly easy to lose myself in watching him. My thoughts become tangled in the shape of his jaw and the calm way he sits, right up until a different distraction appears and steals the room without trying.

A tall redhead approaches from the side, dressed in a delicate black dress that falls along her curves. Her makeup highlights every striking detail of her face, from her small button nose to her high cheekbones and soft green eyes. Her jawline forms a perfect arc, and her blonde hair rests in loose waves across her shoulders. Her focus is entirely fixed on Knox, as if no one else at the table even exists.

She doesn’t need to introduce herself. I recognize her immediately.

Several of the articles I read about Knox revealed fragments of his past. The reporters had dug up information about a difficult breakup with a long-term girlfriend. They even tracked her down and included photographs for good measure. Those images are now standing before me as a living person.

There is no doubt in my mind. This is her. The woman who once held Knox’s heart, fractured it, and has now walked straight back into his life.

KNOX

It doesn’t happen very often that I’m caught off guard, yet somehow it's happened now. I find myself staring at Lena, more than sure I look like a deer frozen in the middle of the road. I try to remember the last time I saw her. It must have been years ago, sometime when I passed one of the shops she used to visit regularly. She looks almost exactly as she did back then.

Those old wounds closed a long time ago. A few scars remain, of course, although they no longer ache. There is no anger left in me, no longing or bitterness. Only indifference blended with the shock of seeing her again without any warning.

“Knox. How good to see you,” she says as she extends her hand toward me. I’m so stunned that I forget common courtesy entirely. My body reacts only after a few slow seconds. I rise to my feet, grasp her hand briefly, then motion toward the table in an attempt to regain some sense of composure.

“This is Mr. and Mrs. Lowell, and …”

“Mr. and Mrs. Stanley. I admire the number of funds you have raised for children with brain tumors. And Mr. and Mrs. Page, of course. My father is a great admirer of your work, Mrs. Page,” she continues smoothly, as if she had memorized every detail beforehand. I’m reminded once again why my father appreciated her so much. She fits the polished image he always imagined for me and expected me to settle for someday.

Everyone at the table turns toward me, including Scarlet. Their eyes carry the same silent question, all waiting for me to explain who this unexpected visitor is.

“This is Lena James … a friend of mine.”

Lena lets out a light laugh. “Oh, Knox, don’t be ridiculous. I’m his ex-girlfriend. We ended things a long time ago, although we still remain on good terms … do we not?” Her smile widens, and then her attention shifts toward Scarlet, who sits perfectly still, as if the world has paused around her. “Oh, I have heard all about you as well. Scarlet, correct? I’m sorry that Knox brought you to this tiresome dinner. I imagine this is not the type of evening you are accustomed to within your line of work.”

Scarlet parts her lips, although no sound escapes. My own voice refuses to cooperate. I know exactly how Lena operates. If there is information available for her to dig up, she has already done it. She clearly knows what Scarlet does, and she’s using the knowledge. Defending Scarlet openly would only encourage her. She would sense weakness, recognize that she struck a sensitive place, and use it again with even greater force.

“Don’t worry,” Lena says with a casual flick of her hand toward Scarlet. “I’m sure your other engagements will be far more exciting and far more pleasant than this one.”

I turn my head slowly to look at Scarlet. Shock and embarrassment wash over her features, and the sight of it feels like a knife slid into me. The guilt floods me right then.

She rises from her chair. Her eyes glisten, although she somehow manages to keep her tears from falling. “Excuse me,” she says before stepping away from the table and making her way toward the exit. In the brief moment before she disappears, my gaze meets Lena’s. She’s pleased with herself. It’s evident in the faint upward twitch of her lips.