But she had seen him. And now she fought the desire to run back there and slap him across the face.
Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to calm down. It wasn’t her place to confront Emmett. It would only make things worse. Her heart ached for her best friend; Meg’s world was about to come crashing down around her.
Oh, how she wished she didn’t have to tell Meg. But how could she not? Was she going to go to parties with the happy couple and pretend she didn’t know Emmett was fucking some blonde behind Meg’s back?
Ruby knew she had to say something. She could never live with herself if she kept this information inside. Meg needed to know her husband was having an affair.
On Powell Street, tears pricked at Ruby’s eyes. All the buses that went downtown did so via an underground route, and now as Ruby descended the stairs beneath Powell and Market, the crowded subterranean station closed in on her, making it hard to breathe.
Trembling, she waited on the edge of the platform for the bus to arrive. Soon a warm, artificial breeze blew her hair softly into her face, heralding the arrival of the N Judah line. She squeezed her way inside the bus, miraculously finding a seat at the very back.
Oddly, the scene she’d just witnessed made her want to see Mark even more. She realized she’d been searching for some stupid idea of what she wanted, but it was a fantasy. Emmett had just proved that. Life was unstable, no doubt about it. Perfection happened only on television. And Mark was right, the only time she’d even come close to achieving a sublime state was in his arms, when she gave herself to him, mind, body, and soul.
That was where she needed to be looking for perfection.
And yeah, being kinky was part of who she was. Hell, even Claire had accepted that about her. There was nothing left to be afraid of. Except, she realized, never seeing Mark again.
Chapter
Twenty-Seven
The limo dropped her off in front of the Four Seasons in Budapest.
Ruby didn’t even know what day it was. When she’d gotten home from shopping she’d discovered a one-way ticket to Hungary that had been slipped under her door, compliments of Mark. It was a lucky coincidence because she’d already planned on tracking him down. She wanted to hear for herself why he’d blown off the preparty, decide for herself if she could live with his behavior. She needed to hear him explain; she needed to take this chance.
So, here she was. They hadn’t talked; she barely had time to toss a few things into a bag before rushing to the airport, where she’d had to make a mad dash to her gate. But she’d made the flight, just in time. Mark had sprung for a first-class seat, so she’d even been able to sleep a bit. There had been a driver waiting for her when she landed, and now, not even twenty-four hours after she’d arrived home to find the ticket, she entered the Four Seasons of Budapest, a little tired but jazzed up. In a few moments, she was going to see Mark.
She shouldn’t be nervous; he’d been the one to send her the ticket. He knew she was here. So why were her palms sweaty? Why was her stomach twisting and turning? Why the hell should she be nervous to see a man who knew her far better than anyone else?
With a deep breath she willed her nerves to calm down. Her heels clicked on the marble floor as she crossed the lobby, and behind the reception desk, a scrawny man with a bad comb-over watched her approach.
“Do you speak English?” she asked hopefully. She hadn’t had time to buy a Hungarian phrase book.
“A little,” he said, and Ruby saw that he had kind eyes.
“Thank you! I’m looking for Mark St. Crow, please. Can you tell me what room he’s in?”
The man looked regretful. “I’m sorry, ma’am. We have no registered guest under that name.”
“But you didn’t even look it up.”
“Because I know we have no registered guest under that name.”
Of course Mark wouldn’t be registered under his own name. But how had he planned on her finding him? He hadn’t left any instructions for when she arrived.
“You are welcome to wait in our lounge, ma’am. Just in case,” the man said, waving to the side. Her gaze followed in the direction he pointed and landed on a dark-wood bar area, behind which dozens of liquor bottles sat on backlit shelves.
“Thank you,” she said. A cocktail suddenly sounded wonderful. She needed something to help calm the unease that had been churning a rancid knot in her gut since yesterday.
She’d tried Meg once again after arriving home, but her friend still hadn’t answered. Now, lack of sleep, a long travel day, and knowing she still had to talk to Meg about Emmett were making that knot in her stomach twist even tighter.