Chapter 9

At Senator Hamilton’s praise of me, the crowd turns on Thea and her unnecessary outburst.

“A lady should know better than to speak so loudly, especially if she doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” says one of the guests to his wife. The words are spoken at normal volume, but with the hush of the crowd, are audible to all those nearby.

“Thea may be the biological daughter of Preston H. Owens, but she shows none of his wit or intelligence,” the wife replies. “Good thing her father missed this event, or he would undoubtedly be embarrassed.”

“Ashamed, more likely,” adds a nearby guest holding a mostly-empty wineglass. “For his own flesh and blood to behave no better than some uneducated backwoods hillbilly.”

The words land like blows on Thea, who pales with each word. Tears well in her eyes.

“Esther may be the adopted on in the family, but she seems to be the one who inherited their father’s poise and intellect,” another adds.

Stricken-looking, Thea gasps a sharp, wet breath, and then turns and runs.

Garnar shoots me a dagger-edged glare, though he makes no moves to follow and comfort his date. He truly has no idea how to properly treat a woman. Not his wife, nor his mistress.

As the whispers die down or turn to other thinks, I once more thank Senator Hamilton for his kind words.

“Thank you for recognizing the details,” I tell him.

He smiles kindly. “Only a truly thoughtful person would make such an effort. This is something I will remember. As will my son.” Senator Hamilton motions to nearby Miles, who, with his arms crossed, appears somewhat bored now.

“If you will excuse me,” Senator Hamilton says, and joins another group for conversation.

I have questions for Miles. Mainly, why he would choose to throw me under the bus like he did by accusing me of having offended him. If I truly did offend him, that is something I wish to rectify. Our night together was based on a misunderstanding. A simple apology should resolve things.

Before I can reach him, though, I am intercepted by an expensively-dressed man and women blocking my path. I recognize them as the George’s, old money, important donors to both of the Hamilton’s campaigns.

Unfortunately people like this are not easily shaken. Because they’ve donated money, they feel themselves obliged to everyone’s time, even those who have little to nothing to do with their candidates.

“The event is wonderful, Ester,” Mr. George says. “Very charming and quaint.”

Quaint is not a word I would personally use to describe $50,000 worth of decorations and food inside a highly elite country club, but then I’m not a billionaire like the Mr. George.

“We are curious, however,” Mrs. George adds. “What exactly did you do to offend our dear Miles?”

I can’t exactly say that I had a one-night stand with Miles thinking he was a call boy, but, at the same time, neither can I say nothing at all.

Thinking back to Miles’s annoyed expression as Thea cut into me, I wonder if maybe I read this situation all wrong. Maybe Miles isn’t truly offended at all. Maybe he was simply teasing me.

I’m taking a gamble, relying on that sudden idea. If I give the lie that’s weaving quickly in my brain, and Miles is truly offended, this will all blow up in my face.

Well, no one can say that I never take risks.

“The last time I met Representative Hamilton, I tripped and fell straight into him. He helped me, of course, courteous as he is. Unfortunately, in my embarrassment, I forgot to thank him properly and even stepped on his shoes with my high heels, damaging them.”

Mrs. George places her hand over her heart. “How terrible!”

I nod in agreement, keeping my face serious and my posture demure. “I wanted to pay for repairs, but in my folly, I only offered $100.”

Mr. George laughs slightly. He’s clearly enjoying this conversation, and my misfortune. “Miles would never wear shoes less than $10,000 a pair.”

“Even that amount seems conservative,” Mrs. George adds. To me, she says, “You poor dear. You truly had no idea, did you?”

“She meant well,” Miles says, suddenly very close to my side. It takes all of my willpower not to startle, though my eyes go wide. Miles smiles at my reaction. “Even if her offer was misguided.”

He’s playing along. Thank God.

I bow slightly in respect and apology. “I’m deeply sorry for the damage I caused, as well as my rudeness. I would be happy to replace your damaged shoes, no matter the cost.”

Behind us, the orchestra begins to play some of Senator Hamilton’s favorite big band songs. We’ve hired a crooner too, though the first song is more a warm up for the band. Singing and dancing will start soon.

“I accept your gift,” Miles says.

“How generous,” Mrs. George says.

Mr. George’s attention pulls elsewhere. “Darling, this is my favorite song.” He holds out his arm for his wife who immediately takes it. “If you both will excuse us.”

I lift my head to nod. Miles says, “Enjoy.”

Then, when they are gone, Miles smile sharpens into a mischievous smirk. It’s a look that I’m quickly learning to be nervous about.

“Thank you for accepting my apology,” I say.

“I accepted your gift, not your apology. You can’t possibly expect that replacing my shoes will be enough.”

Oh, how foolish of me to think that a simple apology would be enough, just because he went along with my lie.

Miles is a troublemaker through and through, and apparently a difficult stubborn one at that.

What will he have me do next? Grovel down on the ground? Kiss his feet?

But do I deserve any better? Even though Garnar cheated first, I stepped out on my husband. I, as an older woman, shared one night of pleasure with a younger man. I confused a House Representative with a call boy.

Maybe these are sins, maybe they are mistakes. Either way, I should have been more thoughtful and more careful.

Gathering the remaining shreds of my dignity, I pull myself upright, back straight, and ask, “What more do you want of me?”

Miles grin adds teeth. “When you put it like that…” A fire sparks in his eyes that sends shivers down my spine. Just like that, I am transported to a soft mattress. Wrapped in tangled sheets, I clawed at the pillow as Miles pressed inside of me.

“There you are,” says Garnar, approaching us. His voice breaks me from my fantasy as abruptly as if he had just splashed cold water over my head. “Forgive my intrusion, but I must speak with my wife –”

“Your wife just asked me what she could do to correct her slight against me.” Miles’s smile dims as he looks at Garnar. “I have decided I’m feeling generous today, and will only ask for one more thing.”

Garnar’s face scrunched up in confusion and annoyance. “Why tell me? Unless her buffoonery also brings me down…” He shoots me another glare, even fiercer than the first. “I’ve warned you not to embarrass me.”

Miles eyes narrow slightly at Garnar’s words, but he otherwise seems to ignore them.

“Mr. Graham, I wish to ask you if I may be permitted to dance the first dance with your wife,” Miles says.

This time, despite my willpower, I do startle. Of all the things he could have wanted from me, I never would have expected that!

Garnar is surprised too, speechless.

Miles slides his mischievous gaze to me. “That is, if she can refrain from stepping on my feet this time…”