And suddenly Sabrina realized she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t engage in a catfight with Eleni and ruin the newlyweds’ special day. She couldn’t bear to embarrass Luca to his relatives. But it took a lot of fortitude and deep breathing to turn her back on the crazy woman.
“Coward,” Eleni trilled.
Sabrina froze, fisting her hands on her side.
“Nice touch on the hair ornament, by the way. Luca’s always had a touch of whimsy in him.”
Sabrina forced her legs to walk away.
“Be careful you don’t lose it. I’d hate to see you lose another investment.”
Eleni’s sardonic laughter tempted Sabrina to turn around and scratch her eyes out.
Her sanity prevailed.
Luca accosted the Konstantinos twins on the dance floor. They were dancing with a blonde who couldn’t be more than twenty. She had the dazed look of someone who couldn’t believe her luck.
“Ingrid,” Luca addressed his cousin. “After the party, I want you to go home with Wolf.”
“Hey,” Stelios protested. “She’s going home with us.”
Ingrid beamed, glancing at one twin then the other.
Luca quelled Stelios with a single look. “You don’t want to have to deal with me or her brothers, believe me.” He tilted his head to where the Jager brothers were nursing their drinks by the bar. They looked like Vikings with their gigantic height, blond hair, and pale eyes.
Nikos swallowed. “Right.”
Luca slapped him on the shoulder. “Where’s Markos?”
Stelios shrugged. “We didn’t come with him.”
“But he said he was coming,” Nikos volunteered. “He wanted to talk to Prince Stefan about something.”
Luca nodded. He picked up his mobile and tried Markos’ number again while his eyes roamed the ballroom.
And there he was, right by the bar nearest the stage. He pocketed his mobile and grimly made his way to his friend.
Sabrina’s hands were shaking. She turned on the gold-colored faucet and dampened several tissues, trying to make out her reflection through her blurry vision. Her eyes were still smarting from the wine. A solicitous waitress had assisted her to the powder room.
She blotted the moisture from her lids and lashes several times, blinked, then gazed at the mirror with raccoon eyes. The eyeliner had smeared. The whites of her eyes were starting to turn red. There was no hope for it then. She rinsed her hands and removed her contacts. Since she didn’t have her case with her, she threw it in the trash bin.
Her gaze met the one in the mirror’s of the elegantly coiffed woman who was retouching her lipstick. The woman spotted the red stains on her gown and made a little sound of commiseration.
“I know. Terribly clumsy of me,” she fibbed.
“Such a shame,” the woman said in English with a melodious accent. “And it’s an Argenti gown.”
At Sabrina’s look of surprise, the woman clarified, “I was at the last Milan fashion show.”
“I hope the cleaners can remove it.” Sabrina didn’t want to return the gown in damaged condition even though it wasn’t her fault.
“I hear you can put salt on it while the stain is still fresh.”
“Really?”
The chitchat was helping her calm down. Her fingers were no longer trembling as she continued to remove all of her eye make-up with the moist tissue.
“They say it helps absorb the stain.”
She wanted to be in complete control when she sought Luca out, not a trembling mess. Eleni was completely deranged. She was disgusted with herself for running away, making Eleni think she had the upper hand. Of course it would do no good to make a scene and embarrass the newlyweds. She didn’t need the negative attention. Word or even photos of a catfight would make their rounds on the Internet.
“Maybe I’ll try that.” Was there even a salt shaker on the table? She couldn’t remember, but she doubted it. Not with these kinds of fancy affairs.
The woman capped her tube of lipstick and tucked it in her bejeweled clutch. “Good luck,” she said in her lilting accent as she twirled on her tottering heels and bumped into a new arrival.
A torrent of foreign, angry words reverberated in the marbled interior of the powder room.
Eleni.
A cutting retort in another language cracked like a shot. The lipstick woman was not backing down.
Sabrina was watching this play out on the full-length mirror at the end of the powder room. It was reflecting the tableau on the mirror by her place near the sink.
Eleni’s striking face was twisted menace. She wasn’t the intoxicated psycho she was by the bar. A glint of crazy lucidity shone in her eyes.
Something shattered.