The elegant woman gave her a warm, curious glance. “How lovely,” she said. “Walter and I were so happy when we heard Brock had gotten married, although you two did a good job keeping it secret. Shame on you. Everyone loves a wedding.”
“Brock wanted to keep it low-key. Neither of us expected our feelings to grow like they did,” Elle said, working hard to keep the smile on her face.
“Brock has a good head on his shoulders,” Walter said in approval. “Where is he?”
“I’m not sure,” Elle said. “He was running a little late at the office. I’m certain he’ll be here soon.”
“He shouldn’t keep his bride waiting,” Mrs. Prentice said. “Let me introduce you to a few of my friends.”
For the next half hour, Elle’s head swam with new names. Mrs. Prentice, clearly an overachiever like her husband, introduced her to several people. When Mrs. Prentice emphasized the fact that Elle was Brock Maddox’s new wife, Elle felt curious glances sizing her up. After fielding questions about their small wedding and nonexistent honeymoon, Elle managed to slip away to call Brock.
He picked up on the fifth ring. “Brock Maddox,” he said curtly.
“Elle Linton Maddox,” she returned just as curtly. “Where are you?” she asked. “The Prentices are asking for you.”
“This cosmetics contract is a major headache,” he said. “I’m running late.”
“You said you were running late an hour and a half ago. What am I supposed to say to Mr. and Mrs. Prentice?”
“I’ll leave now,” he said. “See you in fifteen minutes.”
He disconnected the call and Elle tucked her cell phone inside her evening bag. The house felt as if it were closing in on her. Desperately needing some fresh air, she walked outside to the patio where guests mingled, enjoying the beautiful night. She moved toward a column in a dark corner and sucked in the air. She looked up at the cloudy sky, shielding the stars, remembering a similar party that could have been a thousand years ago, or just yesterday.
Her grandfather had given permission for her to attend a Christmas party at his home. Elle had been eight years old and her mother had bought her a red velvet dress with lace at the hem and collar. Elle had been so excited. She’d hoped to meet her father, but he didn’t show up. The other children had avoided her as if she were somehow less than them. The whole experience had been a disaster and she couldn’t wait to get home and tear off her dress, put on her pajamas and go to bed. She remembered the feeling of not belonging all too well. She had the same feeling right now.
She stood there for several moments in the dark, wondering if she should leave, and if she did, whether anyone would notice. Then she heard a familiar male voice in the background.
“Walter, great to see you. You really know how to throw a party,” Brock said as he walked within just a few feet of her. Her heart skittered at the sight of him.
“I met your wife earlier. She’s beautiful. You shouldn’t leave her on her own. Someone might steal her away,” Walter said.
Brock gave a forced laugh. “You’re right. Elle is beautiful. Do you know where she is?”
“I’m sure she’s around here somewhere. The Missus was introducing her around,” Mr. Prentice said. “I remember Elle was your assistant.”
“Yes, she was,” Brock said. “When I realized we had feelings for each other, I decided we should make our relationship official. I didn’t want to muddy the professional waters.”
“Good move,” Walter said. “Keep business separate from romance. Congratulations again on your marriage.”
“Thank you,” Brock said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d better go search for my bride.”
Walter laughed and thumped Brock on the shoulder. “If anyone can find her, I’m sure it’s you.”
From the shadows, Elle watched as Brock pulled out his BlackBerry and sent a text message. Glancing around, he accepted a glass of wine from a server. He loosened his collar, looking impatient.
Elle wondered if she should step forward, but something kept her from it. Her wedding to Brock was all for show and she no longer knew if she could keep up the performance. Elle moved along the wall to the French doors and scooted through the crowd. All those years of being the Koteas’s dirty little secret played through her mind, and here she was again, having been Brock’s little secret. She felt like such a fraud. Brock didn’t really want to be married to her. She couldn’t help feeling like he resented her for the pregnancy.
Unable to bear the return of feelings she’d suffered since childhood, she dashed out the front door and asked the valet to hail a cab for her.