Page 38 of Things We Fake
She was draped in black satin and smugness, her body poured into a dress I’m sure cost more than most people’s monthly rent. Her cleavage sparkled with the kind of diamonds you wear when you want to steal the whole show.
And damn it if she didn’t look the exact same as the day we broke up—like a perfectly constructed trap. My throat tightened, the ghost of old hurt wrapping around my windpipe. I had loved this woman once.
“Britt.” I forced my tone into something neutral, cold enough to establish a clear distance between us.
Britt glanced at Sue with all the attention one gives to a bug on a windshield.
“Don’t I know you from somewhere?” she asked vaguely.
I contemplated the awkwardness of this introduction, but Sue’s dry reply surprised me.
“Yes. Warwick.”
Britt’s eyes squinted, trying to place her. I could see the slow gears of judgment turning behind those ridiculously long fake lashes. Her lips had been enhanced, crossing the edge from sensual to grotesque. What the hell had I seen in this woman? To be fair, her eyelashes hadn’t been my main focus.
“Oh, I remember you now.” Britt’s voice dripped syrup and cyanide. “I wouldn’t have recognized you. You can actually fill out a bra now. Well, sort of. And you fixed your teeth. Good for you.”
I clenched my jaw. I’d been subjected to Britt’s smiling cruelty, and I wasn’t going to let Susanne put up with this.
But before I could say anything, Sue surprised me with a perfect, lethal smile.
“Hi, Enid. Looks like you had some surgery accidents. I hope you got a refund.”
I barked out a laugh that surprised even me.
Britt’s fake smile cracked. “It’s Brittany,” she snapped.
“Sure,” Sue beamed. “That’s only your middle name, right? Enid’s still on your license, though.”
I had to hide my face behind my napkin. If I looked at either of them too long, I was going to lose it again. I’d never heard anyone call Britt by her first name and live. I hadn’t realized Susanne’s claws were so sharp. I must have been a pervert because watching her stand up to Britt turned me on like crazy.
Brittany’s eyes turned to slits. “Obviously you don’t remember my name any more than I remember yours.”
“It’s Susanne,” I said helpfully. Because I couldn’t resist. And because watching Britt squirm felt like the therapy I didn’t know I needed.
“Right. Susanne Morelli, the winemaker’s daughter.” She gave a condescending nod. “I assume it’s still Susanne Morelli.”
Sue’s smile collapsed and her cheeks turned bright red. Britt’s statement had been so assured it was humiliating. She was laying her cards down, playing the smug-wife card over the unclaimed-woman. I knew she’d hit a nerve with Susanne.
Before I made a conscious decision, I reached across the table and took Sue’s hand.
“For now it’s still Morelli, yes.” I gave Britt a calm, unreadable look that I knew drove her insane.
Sue’s head whipped toward me, and she looked just as shocked as Britt. I arched one eyebrow and gave her the smallest nudge under the table with my foot.Go with it. Let’s play.
Britt blinked, propping her hands on her hips. “What do you mean, for now? How do you two even know each other?”
I exhaled in an attempt to tame my annoyance. “Not that it’s your business, but Susanne and I are seeing each other. I think it’s obvious this is a date. If you don’t mind, we’d like to get back to enjoying it.”
She hesitated. A flicker of panic flashed across her face. But then her smile returned, and she regrouped, like she always did.
“I’m having dinner with some friends. Would you like to join us, Cam?”
The invitation was a blatant insult toward Sue by her exclusion.
I gave Britt the tiniest of smiles. “No, thanks. I hope you won’t stiff your friends with the bill.”
She actually managed to look affronted. “You always did hold a grudge.”
