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Mimi gave me yet another onceover, sullen. “That the dress you wore for your wedding?”
“Yes,” I replied.
“Little understated, ain’t it?” she sniped. “But then … I guess there’d be no point in getting all dolled-up for a ceremony that has no real meaning behind it. Right?”
My scalp prickled. Had she somehow heard about the pact? Possibly, though I didn’t see how. “What is it you want?”
Turning to the mirror, she dabbed at the corner of her mouth, as if wiping away smudged lipstick. “I had myself an itty, bitty chat with Felicity.”
And the pieces fell together.
Facing me once more, Mimi folded her arms and grinned. “I know.”
“You know what?”
“Why Dax married you. Why you married him. Why he gave you what he gave no one else.” Her grin went up a notch. “You guys made a pact.”
“That’s why you went through the trouble of tracking me down and gatecrashing this party? Just so you could inform me you learned of the pact?”
“Girl, it was notroubleto track ya down. This party is an annual thing—I heard months ago that your company was managing it this year. As for why I came … no, it wasn’t just to tell you I ain’t in the dark anymore, or even to laugh at how ridiculous you are for marrying a guy who careszilchfor you.”
She sure didn’tsoundas though she found me ridiculous. No, there was a fair amount of spite there.
“I get a little maudlin during the holidays, so I was flicking through some old photos earlier of me and Gracie while I set about getting smashed.” Despair washed over her face, sweeping away every trace of smugness. “I found one of her and Dax looking so fucking happy. In that picture, ’cause of the angle and lighting and stuff … it actually looked more like me than her.”
And Mimi had seen exactly how she and Dax could have looked together as a loved-up couple if things were different.
“He never gave me the chance to make him that happy, because he doesn’t wannabehappy. But someone coulda changed that. Maybe not me, no, but somebody.” Her eyes blazed into mine. “Youare in the way of that. By tyin’ him to you, you’ve taken away his shot at that future. And fuck, I got mad thinking about it.”
I snorted, all out of patience when it came to this woman. “You’re not mad that I took such a future from him. You’re mad that I took it from you. That’s how you see it, because that’s how you want to see it. Then you can tell yourselfI’mto blame for why he’ll never commit to you; why there’ll never be a picture of the two of you looking like the besotted couple he and Gracie were. It hurts less that way, doesn’t it?”
“But it doesn’t hurtyou, does it? You don’t care that the messed up reason he committed to you is that hedoesn’tcare for you. You’re wasting time outa his life.”
“And you’re wasting time out of yours by sniffing around a guy who’ll never want you.” When was that going to get through her head? “You came to the wrong person tonight. It’s Dax you should be talking to, because I’m sure the question on your mind is … If he was intent on marrying someone he didn’t care for, why didn’t he just marryyou?”
Her face reddened. “Fuck you!” she shouted. “Fuck! You!”
The door opened a few inches, and several voices filtered into the room.Lowe. Sabrina. Grayden. Megan. A male voice I didn’t recognize.
I gritted my teeth.Oh, for shit’s sake.
Lowe entered first, talking over his shoulder to Grayden. No,arguingwith him. Grayden was speaking in what I called his “lawyer voice,” attempting to convince the sheriff to leave.
Lowe didn’t.
Instead, he scanned the restroom, his eyes lighting up as they landed on me. “There you are.” He glanced from me to Mimi. “I knew I heard someone yelling.”
Fuck that bitch for practically leading him to us.
As he and Grayden went back to arguing, Sabrina threw me an apologetic look and mouthed, “I called Dax, he’s on his way.”
Good. He could end this scene with just a few words—well, threats. Using my headset, I told her, “Go wait for him.” Someone would need to tell him where to find us. “Have Megan hold the fort.”
Both women disappeared, closing the door behind them so no party guests would overhear anything.
Turning my attention back to the others in the room, I sighed.
This was probably what would be called a soap opera moment. I mean, I was standing in a ladies restroom … wearing a bridal gown … being smirked at by a woman who coveted my husband … while my ex-boyfriend and the local sheriff argued a few feet away.
