What she really wanted to ask was "What did she say?" but lacked the courage, so instead she said, "How do you know?"
"She's breathing. I didn't know what kind of a scene she would make. Leaving seemed easier. I don't want you in the middle of anything."
"I appreciate that." She cleared her throat. "It must have been a shock, seeing her after all this time. It's been what? Three years?"
He nodded. "I could have gone a lot longer without having to deal with her again."
"You're going to be dealing with her?"
"I hope not, but my luck isn't that good. She wants something and she won't stop until she's made every attempt to get it."
Wanted something? As in money … or did Valentina want Duncan back? Annie told herself she should be happy if that was what was going on. A marriage repaired was a good thing. Assuming Valentina was sincere.
Annie told herself she was mature enough, in love enough, to want what was best for Duncan. The ache in her chest and the need to cry were beside the fact.
Duncan pulled up in front of her small house. "The party tomorrow will be easier. It's smaller. Quieter. I'll pick you up at six-thirty."
He barely glanced at her as he spoke, making her realize he wasn't even going to kiss her good-night. Holding in the hurt, she forced herself to smile as she got out of the car.
"Good night, Duncan. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Good night."
She barely had time to close the passenger door before he gunned the engine and drove off. She stood on the sidewalk, watching his taillights disappear.
Telling herself he hadn't broken the rules didn't make breathing any less painful. And wondering if he was returning to the party to be with Valentina only made her wish she could go back in time a couple of hours and keep the other woman from ever speaking to Duncan in the first place. Not that she could change the past the two of them shared. A past that was very likely going to have a big impact on her present.
"Okay, so owning a bank is even better than I thought," Annie said the following night as Duncan pulled up behind a Rolls, in front of a large Beverly Hills estate. "Didn't bankers take a financial hit in the past year or so?"
"Not all of them."
It had been nearly twenty-four hours since Duncan had dropped her off the previous evening. She'd spent about twenty of them trying to convince herself that even if she wasn't fine, she could pretend. Acting might not be her gift, but she would work at faking it. He'd been his normal self when he'd arrived to pick her up, so maybe last night was like a bad dream-something that would fade in the light of day.
When she climbed out of the car, she stared at the glittering three-story mansion. It was huge, with lights everywhere, a long, wide walkway and a fountain roughly the size of a semi.
"This rich thing," she said as Duncan moved next to her. "Looks like fun."
"The taxes would kill you," he said with a grin, then leaned in and kissed her on the mouth.
"Just paying for the lightbulbs would make me whimper." She leaned into him and laughed. "Do you think they take in boarders? I mean, a room in this place would be bigger than my whole house."
"Want me to get an application?"
"If they have them lying around."
He put his arm around her and they walked toward the front door. A uniformed butler let them in. They were shown to a massive living room with a roaring fire. Sofas and comfy-looking chairs filled the football field – sized space. To the left was a bar. In front of them were four sets of French doors leading out to a huge patio.
"There is a light buffet outside," the butler told them. "The area is heated and very comfortable."
Duncan thanked the man. Annie waited until he left before whispering, "So they're the reason L.A. is always warm in the winter. They're heating the whole outdoors. Interesting."
Duncan laughed and pulled her close. She wrapped her arms around him, feeling the vibration of the sound. Then it stopped and he tensed. She felt every muscle, heard the sudden increase in his breathing and knew, without turning around, that someone else had walked into the party.
"Duncan," she breathed.
He touched her cheek and stared into her eyes. "It doesn't matter."
But she had a feeling that it mattered a lot. More than either of them wanted to admit.
Annie stepped back and turned around. Valentina stood in the entrance to the beautiful home. Her eyes locked with Duncan's, but she didn't do anything more than nod at him before walking into the party.
"You going to be all right?" he asked, pressing his hand to the small of her back and guiding her outside.
"I'm fine," she lied.
What else was there to say? That Valentina terrified her? That she believed Duncan was still in love with his ex-wife? That she'd always known she didn't have a chance with Tim's boss, but she'd allowed herself to hope and it was all going to end badly? All she could do was pray that he remembered not to tell her he wanted to be friends. It was what she'd asked for, and Duncan was the type of man to remember.
Maybe the problem wasn't Valentina, she thought as they stepped outside. Maybe it was her. Maybe she should learn to ask for more.
Time crawled by. Annie did her best not to glance at her watch every five minutes. The party was small enough that she and Duncan had to stay for at least a couple of hours. So far they'd been outside and Valentina had stayed inside, avoiding each other. She wondered if that would last for the entire party.
When Duncan got into a conversation about oil futures, she excused herself and went in search of the restroom. It was as lovely as the rest of the house, complete with a marble vanity and dozens of expensive soaps, hand creams and hair products. After she'd washed her hands and fluffed her curls, she opened the door and stepped into the hallway. Only to find Valentina waiting for her.
Duncan's ex was dressed in black pants and a cream-colored off-the-shoulder sweater. She was tall, thin and beautiful, with the kind of sleek, straight hair Annie had always envied.
"Hi," Valentina said, clutching a martini glass. "You're Duncan's girlfriend, right?"
Annie nodded slowly. The truth was different, but Valentina didn't need to know about their deal.
"Have you been going out long?" the other woman asked.
"We met in September," Annie said, hoping she didn't look as nervous as she felt. "I, ah, had a flat tire and Duncan stopped to help."
"That doesn't sound like him at all. You're a teacher?"
"Kindergarten."
"Let me guess. You're sweet and kind. You take in orphans and stray pets."
Annie couldn't read the other woman's voice. There was tension in it, but the source wasn't clear. Was she mocking Annie or herself?
"If you'll excuse me," Annie said, moving around her.
"Wait. Please. I … " Valentina set her drink on a small table and sucked in a breath. "I don't know how things are between you and it's really none of my business. I gave up any rights to Duncan a long time ago. I was stupid. I thought I could do better. I was wrong. It's not just that he's the best man I know, it's that I never stopped loving him."
Tears filled Valentina's blue eyes. One trickled down her cheek. She brushed it away impatiently.
"I want a second chance. I know it's practically impossible. He's not going to forgive me easily, but I have to try. Have you ever been in love? Have you ever known down to your bones that you'd finally found the only man on the planet who would complete you?"
Annie nodded slowly. She wanted to point out that love wasn't about being completed. It was about giving, not getting, but that wasn't the point.
"I love him," Valentina said. "Before, when we were together, he held so much of himself apart. I think it had something to do with his past. I was young and impatient. Now I know better. He's worth waiting for, fighting for. I made a mistake and he paid the price. I'm back for a second chance. I'm back to convince him how much he means to me. To me, he's my husband. He'll always be my husband. I want a chance to make our marriage work. Can you understand that?"
Annie nodded because it would hurt too much to speak. Valentina had said the only words that would have convinced her to give up. She couldn't argue against a chance of Valentina and Duncan making their marriage work. If they were successful, maybe he could let go of his fear of being left. Maybe he would learn to love again. Better Valentina than no one, she told herself. In time, she would even believe that.
The mall might be closed at three in the morning, but the Internet was always open. Annie clicked on a link, then stared at the picture of the painting. It was small, maybe twelve-by-twelve, with a plain black frame. The artist, a famous sports painter, had chosen boxing as his subject.