“What story?” I ask, irritated.
“The shark story. He said you were swimming, and a shark had followed you. Are the sharks swimming so close to the shore?”
Oh… He didn’t say that.
“Yes, the shark story... It was terrible,” I say before excusing myself and tearing away from him. “I’ll talk to you later,” I add.
Holding the bottom of my gown, I cut my way through groups of people when someone bumps into me, making me stumble into a woman nearby.
“Senna?”
The woman’s voice draws me to a stop.
If she’s here, he must be here as well.
I turn around.
“Evelyne,” I say dryly, a cold smile plastered across my face.
She runs her eyes over me, not even trying to hide her disappointment.
“You cut your hair,” I say to start a conversation.
Her blonde hair is shorter than I remember, barely touching her shoulders. Her fake lashes give her a gaunt look.
The black gown makes her look older and skinnier, arguably not something she needs.
“You look different,” she says, her eyes lingering on my body.
“I do?”
“Yes. Trashier,” she says, throwing the word without flinching.
Her lips crease in disgust.
“I bet it sits well with a certain type of man,” she adds.
“What kind of man?” I ask, pushing back a retort.
“Players, drifters. The man you date. That writer... I always thought you’d go for something better than that,” she says condescendingly. “I’m not so sure now. Not when you look like this. No serious man would marry someone like you.”
“I’m not looking for a husband.”
A malicious smile stretches across her lips.
“Maybe you should. Good looks don’t last forever. Besides, you don’t have an education, a career, not even a vocational skill. Nothing to make a living with. What is it that you do? Dumpster diving?”
I blanch.
She can’t possibly know.
“Are you mooching on someone? Oh, wait...”
A grin curves her lips.
“Have you gotten yourself a sugar daddy?”
I suck in a short breath.