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‘I think you may be mixing up cheesy romance with classic fiction.’
Gabby turned at the sound of Zander’s deep voice, half in relief, half in exasperation that she hadn’t thought of the riposte herself.
‘Hello, Melanie,’ he continued. ‘I see you haven’t changed a bit.’
It seemed clear it wasn’t a compliment as the redhead flushed slightly and narrowed her eyes. ‘It seems that you have,’ she said, and flicked a venomous glance at Gabby. ‘And your standards have definitely dropped.’
With that she swivelled on a pointy stiletto and walked away. Gabby knew it was irrational, but the words had stung with a poison that made her insides twist.
Your standards have definitely dropped. Was everyone thinking that? Comparing her to Claudia? She knew it was petty, irrational, stupid and unnecessary to make the comparison, but she was. All those feelings of not being good enough resurfaced. But she was damned if she would let anyone see it.
‘I’m sorry.’ Zander’s voice was level.
‘What for? All you did was come to my rescue. A rescue I shouldn’t have needed. You have nothing to apologise for.’
Dammit, she was snapping at him. Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply. This wasn’t Zander’s fault. The issue here was that she was a fish out of water, the mutton in the flock of lambs, the woman who should never have taken the job.
‘My turn to say sorry.’
‘Forget it. I came to tell you the auction is going to kick off soon.’
She was sure she heard the smallest strain in his voice, so slight she wouldn’t have heard it if her own sensitivities hadn’t been so heightened.
‘Is something wrong?’ she asked. ‘Was it what Melanie said about you changing?’
If the words had upset her, of course they must have been a hundred times more difficult for him to hear.
‘This must be hard for you—everyone believing you’re with another woman.’
Especially one who didn’t measure up. How many people at this dazzling high-society event were whispering behind their hands, wondering why on earth Zander was with someone so ordinary?
There was a silence, and she couldn’t read the expression on his face. Then, ‘We need to talk.’
Hand on the small of her back again, he gently ushered her into a secluded corner, shielded from the flow of guests by an exotic arrangement of verdant green potted plants.
* * *
Zander stared down into Gabby’s hazel eyes, saw the vulnerability he knew she was trying to hide, and knew Melanie’s words had hurt her. He knew he couldn’t let her believe he was racked with guilt because he felt he was betraying Claudia’s memory.
‘You’re right—something is bothering me, but it is nothing to do with Claudia.’
Gabby’s forehead creased in bemusement and question. If he prevaricated she wouldn’t believe him, so he needed to tell her the truth—how hard could it be? It wouldn’t kill him to admit weakness. Much.
‘I’m nervous.’
Her eyes widened. ‘Why?’
‘I don’t like giving speeches.’
It reminded him too much of being asked to read out loud at school—the weight of imminent humiliation as the teacher went round the class, the horrible knowledge that it would be his turn next. The fear of having to mark other people’s work, his mind and body constantly geared up for fight or flight.
‘As in really don’t like it.’
As in it caused a sensation of nausea, a clamminess-inducing anxiety, a sheer funk that he loathed and had barely tamed into reluctant snarling submission.
To his relief Gabby didn’t laugh; instead her expression softened.
‘That sucks,’ she said. ‘How do you manage at work?’
