Love You Madly(63)

And of course, she was angry at herself. If she hadn’t been such an ice queen, hadn’t kept her daughter at arm’s length, would she be where she was now? If she’d shown any of the people around her an iota of the gratitude she could have felt for the things they’d done for her and her daughter through the years, would she feel so alone?

That familiar burning was tickling the back of her eyes. She would not cry. Not here, not in front of everyone, some of whom would relish to see her weakness. A pinch to the soft flesh between her fingers did nothing.

Laughter farther ahead in the dark, recessed area of the hall brought her back to the present. A familiar laugh. Sickeningly so.

Why was Annabeth clear the hell back here? And not alone.

Curiosity had her walking down the hall, wanting to see what was going on. There was a door at the end, partially open, and from the sign next to it, this was another of the hotel’s smaller conference rooms. Inside there was faint light near the back of the room, and Meredith stood, thunderstruck for a moment by what she was seeing.

Annabeth. Her married friend, whose husband Meredith had still yet to see tonight, was sitting astride the city’s also married mayor in a pink chair. Her dress surrounded them both, but by the rising of Annabeth’s body, Meredith knew that they were doing more than sharing a conversation.

Immediately, Meredith shrank back so she was out of sight. She leaned against the wall, trying to calm the rage that was shaking her body.

Unbelievable. Did no one have any respect for the vows they took anymore? That trysts like this could cause untold pain and suffering to so many other people? Spouses? Children?#p#分页标题#e#

It was like walking in on Brian, her first husband, all over again, and she bent forward to catch her breath.

Annabeth’s behavior didn’t shock her, however, as much as the mayor’s hypocrisy. The man had built his political platform on family values, and when Meredith first came to him about her daughter, he’d had a trace of condescension in his tone, as if Meredith’s single-parent status had been the reason her daughter was missing.

She heard them finish and then whisper to each other as they pulled themselves together. So they could walk back out there, to their spouses, like nothing had happened.

The mayor left the room first, swaggering and strutting, unaware of her presence in the darkness of the hall. Annabeth took a little more time.

Meredith straightened and, before she could consider the wisdom of her decision, walked into the room, where Annabeth was reapplying lipstick.

“That was quite the performance, Annabeth. I hope you’re not that…generous with all your future guests.”

Annabeth barely glanced up as she continued dabbing at her lips. “That’s rich coming from someone who slept her way through three husbands and, with that latest bodyguard of yours, might be vying for husband number four? But he’d be a pretty big step down even for you.”

“This from the woman who married her personal trainer. You’re ridiculous, Annabeth. A cliché. Sleeping your way to the top. Most people would lie on their laurels, not their…” She looked pointedly down, not finishing the sentence.

Annabeth shook her head and dropped her lipstick in the small purse next to her. “Just like old times, huh, Meredith? The only reason you even had the power you did was because your daddy was one of the richest men in the state. If popularity rested on real merit, I would have been homecoming queen and head cheerleader. But it looks like it’s all turned out as it should.” She gave Meredith a pitying smile. “No career, no husband, no life. It’s actually pretty sad how completely underwhelming your life has become. Even your daughter knows—she’s probably halfway across the country trying to get away from your patheticness. Afraid you’ll just bring her down like you do everyone.”

Meredith was seeing red now. She wanted nothing more than to throw herself at the woman, smear the perfect bow she’d drawn on her lip down that smug face, tear out the perfectly coiled hair.

She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. Focus her wrath into a verbal assault rather than a physical one.

“I could bury you. Your career,” Meredith said. “Look up in the corner over there. You might see there’s a video camera. A few tweets with a link to that video footage, and I’d bet this little scene between you and the illustrious mayor would go viral by midnight. Maybe you could use it as part of your marketing efforts when you’re trying to line up your next special guest.”

That got the woman’s attention as her face drained of color. She looked uneasily at the camera in the corner. “You’re lying. I doubt that’s even recording, let alone on.”