A waiter came by to get her drink order. She requested mineral water and juice, which appeared almost instantly.
She shouldn’t be ungrateful. She had a generous husband, a lovely home everyone envied, tons of staff to take care of everything.
So what if she hadn’t been in half the rooms in her house, or if she always had to look the part? She’d known what was expected when she agreed to marry Gavin. He was far wealthier than her uncle’s family, who had taken her family in when her father’s prolonged unemployment had resulted in eviction. And her uncle had been rich. Gavin shouldn’t have to become downwardly mobile just because she was more comfortable in clothes from thrift stores, or a smaller home that she could manage on her own.
This was their anniversary. Her focus should be on all the lovely things in her life rather than a few minor annoyances.
Right?
She sat back in her seat and waited.
And waited.
Then waited some more.
After about half an hour, she gave up and reached for her phone. Maybe Gavin was—
She started when a chilled bottle of Perrier-Jouët appeared on the table.
“With my compliments.”
She looked up and blinked. “Hello, Mark.”
“Surprised to see you sitting here by yourself.” Mark Pryce took the only empty chair, the one that Gavin was due to sit in when he showed up. The dim interior light darkened Mark’s medium-brown hair so that it almost looked as inky as Gavin’s. He wore a nice dress shirt and dark slacks of European origin. Most likely custom tailored, given the way they fit him.
Mark was Gavin’s friend and one of the richest men in the state. He invested in many upscale restaurants, including La Mer, and La Mer, which had opened just the week before, was already a smashing success. His mother seemed to disapprove of it. She had definite ideas about how her children ought to live their lives.
“I have a date,” Amandine began, self-conscious and vaguely embarrassed, “but I think he’s been delayed.”
“Gavin?”
“Well, of course. It’s our anniversary.”
His blue eyes warmed. “Congratulations. I picked the right bottle for the occasion.”
“I’m not drinking.”
“Why not?” he said, pausing in the middle of popping the cork. “It’s not like you have to drive. I can call you a limo if you like.”
“Thanks but…” She hesitated. She didn’t want to tell him about her pregnancy, not when she hadn’t even told Gavin yet. “I’m not feeling too well.”
“I see. Then I’ll have this bottle saved for you, so you can enjoy it later.”
“That would be great.”
“Has he called?”
“No. I was about to see if he’s even in town.” She fiddled with her half-empty water glass. “He had to go to Houston this afternoon.”
“Ah.” Mark raised eyebrows. “Damage control.”
“Excuse me?” She tilted her head. A tendril escaped her French twist and tickled her face. She tucked it behind an ear impatiently. “What do you mean?”
He hesitated. “You haven’t heard?”
“What?”
“Jacob ran off from Catherine.”