town. A little vacation time. My secretary tells me that I need it badly.â
He gave her a hopeful grin. âAny chance you might want some company for at least a couple of days of your vacation? I could do with a little time off myself.â
He was going to force her into a corner, she realized. Better to deal with it now and get past it. She met his eyes. âI understand that your divorce is not yet final, Hayden. I donât do long weekends with married men.â
He grimaced. âOuch. I get the point. Would it make any difference if I told you that the divorce should have been final several months ago? That the only reason it isnât a done deal is because Gillian is the vindictive type?â
âNope. It wouldnât make any difference at all.â She transferred her small gold evening bag to her other hand and made to move off. âExcuse me. I see some Aurora Fund clients. Iâd better go say hello.â
âSure.â Something hard flashed in his eyes. It was gone in an instant, replaced by a wry expression. âOne of these days Iâll get through this damned divorce, you know. Even Ringsteadâs lawyers canât hold it up forever. We can talk about a long weekend then.â
âWeâll see,â she said, deliberately vague. But something told her that there would never be any long weekends with Hayden.
She dutifully made her way through the crowd, greeting clients and potential investors in the Fund. Her invisible radar screen kept her clear of Jack. She caught glimpses of him now and again. Once she saw him lounging against the bar, a glass in one hand, chatting with an attorney she recognized.
He glanced toward her at that precise instant, as if he had known that she was looking at him. He raised his glass a couple of inches in a mocking salute and turned back to his conversation. For the next forty minutes, however, he managed not to cross her path. It occurred to her that he was going out of his way to avoid her, too.
Shortly after eleven she glanced at her watch and told herself that she had concluded the minimum of socializing the event demanded. She needed some sleep before the flight to Mirror Springs. She smiled at a portly, retired banker who was waxing enthusiastic about his new boat. The man was obviously in love with his most recent acquisition. She wished him happiness and slipped away to collect her coat.
When she emerged from the cloakroom, she turned and went down a quiet, carpeted hall, avoiding the more heavily traveled path to and from the ballroom. She sensed a presence behind her just before the woman spoke.
âIf youâre smart, youâll stay away from him.â
Elizabeth froze at the raw venom in the voice. Then she turned slowly around. A small, elegantly made-up womandressed in a very chic, very expensive red silk suit and stiletto heels stood in the hall. She appeared to be in her mid-thirties. Her pale blond hair was cut in a sleek line that highlighted her heart-shaped features. There were fine, tightly drawn lines at the corners of her mouth.
âHave we met?â Elizabeth asked carefully.
âSorry. Allow me to introduce myself. Iâm Gillian the Bitch.â
âI beg your pardon?â
âDonât you recognize the name? Iâm surprised. I understand Hayden always calls me that.â Gillianâs smile was so brittle, it was a wonder it did not shatter. âIâm his wife.â
âI see.â Great. A perfect way to end the evening.
âIn spite of the impression Hayden may have given you, I am not his ex-wife. Not yet, at any rate. I wonât give him that satisfaction until Daddyâs lawyers have gotten back everything he took from me.â
âThis really isnât any of my business.â Elizabeth made a show of glancing at her watch. âIâm on my way home. If youâll excuse me . . .â
Gillianâs eyes narrowed. âMy daddy
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