Page 172 of Never Tell Secrets
“Did you really think I didn’t know?” The woman glared at Dexter before she turned and stalked away.
I stared at her retreating form in shock–had that really just happened?
Hushed whispers echoed around the room. Biting back a sob, Angie grabbed her purse and hurried towards the bathrooms.
Dexter looked torn, staring after Angie as she ran away. Alfie took a sip of his sparkling water, seeming unfazed but I knew better. He was furious.
“Follow your wife and make sure she doesn’t bring that shit to my business,” he said, keeping his voice low he looked Dexter square in the eye. “Your personal life stops at your front door.”
Dexter nodded. “Got it.”
I sat quietly as he hurried out of the restaurant and a team of servers began cleaning the mess. “He’s married? He doesn’t wear a wedding ring.”
“He stopped wearing it a few months ago. I don’t get involved in my employees personal life. You shouldn't either.” He continued eating his meal, putting on a nonchalant facade until the prying eyes turned back to their own dinners.
I tried to do the same but I could feel my conscience tugging at me.
“Where are you going?” Alfie asked as I stood up.
“To give Angie a clean shirt.” The frown on his face said he didn’t believe me. “No drama, I promise.”
I found Angie in the bathroom, crying in one of the stalls. There was no one else in here so I unbuttoned my shirt and shrugged it off, leaving me only in the silk top I wore underneath.
“Hey,” I knocked on the cubicle door, “I brought you a fresh shirt, it’s uh…it’s not Chanel. Sorry.” I dangled it over the door and a moment later she took it.
“You can go, Lola.”
I contemplated doing just that but my stupid conscience wouldn’t allow it. Yes, she was a prime bitch, but I was determined to be the bigger person.
“Come on out. Let’s see the damage, I’m sure it can’t be that bad.” I heard her huff but the door opened, revealing bloodshot eyes and mascara stained cheeks. My shirt sagged over her chest where she was a few cup sizes smaller than me. I plastered a smile on my face. “You look great.”
Angie scowled at my obvious lie and headed for the mirror. She pulled a make-up case from her clutch and started fixing her face.
“I don’t need you to be nice to me, you know.”
“I’m being nice for my own conscience, not your sake.” I folded my arms, leaning against the counter as she dabbed mascara from her cheeks. “You had this coming.”
“They’re separated, not that it’s any of your business.”
I rolled my eyes. It annoyed me how pretty she looked, even with damaged make up and blood shot eyes.
“Were they separated when you started sleeping with him?”
“Yes. We haven’t even…we aren’t sleeping together.”
I arched an eyebrow at her blatant lie. “I heard you in the hotel last night.” Her dark eyes narrowed on me and I held up a hand. “I was waiting for the lift, not creeping around. If you don’t want accidental eavesdroppers then save it for the bedroom.”
“Fair enough.” She turned back to the mirror. “But just for the record, we didn’t get that far.”
With her face fixed, I watched as she fussed with the shirt. The boat neck sat wide on the shoulders, dipping low at the back. It was just the right amount of sexy on me, on Angie, it dipped low enough to show the top of her scars. Scars that Charles had left there. My stomach turned at the sight of them.
“If you put your hair down, it’ll cover those.”
She stiffened as if she’d been filled with concrete. I watched as an array of emotions flew across her face but just like Alfie, she smoothed it away as if it was never there.
In silence, she pulled the tie out of her hair, releasing her high ponytail. She dug a hairgrip out of her clutch and fixed her hair in a half-up, half-down do.
I shifted from one foot to the other, feeling the elephant in the room watching us both. I’d just acknowledged out loud thatI’d seen the scars and she knew I knew what they meant. Taking a deep breath, I prepared to address it.
