Chapter 2

I found myself sitting in the corner of the Starbucks across from the baby store, hands wrapped around a decaf latte I barely tasted. I needed to sit down - my legs felt like jelly after that encounter.

Christmas music played softly in the background, the shop decorated with gold and red ornaments. Families and couples sat around tables, everyone looking happy and festive. I felt like I was watching life through glass.

I should go home. Bennett's making his famous Christmas Eve dinner tonight, and we planned to wrap the last of our presents together. This should be a perfect evening - our first Christmas as a married couple, our last Christmas as just two people. Instead, I'm sitting here shaking because I ran into my past.

I was gathering my purse to leave when I heard his voice.

"Red?"

I looked up. Don stood beside my table. He'd changed clothes - simple jeans and a sweater now, looking more like the man I once knew.

"Mind if I sit?"

I gestured to the chair across from me, though every instinct told me this was a bad idea.

"Where's Lottie?" I asked.

"Christmas shopping. She wanted to buy jewelry for her mother at Tiffany." He signaled for a black coffee from the passing barista. "She'll be hours."

Of course she will. I remember those kinds of shopping trips from magazines - where you spend more in one afternoon than most people make in a month.

"So," Don sat back, "a doctor."

"Bennett's a good man."

"I'm sure he is." There was something in his voice - not quite jealousy but curiosity. "How long?"

"We've been married eight months. Together for about a year and a half."

Don did the math in his head. I could see him calculating - we broke up two years ago, so I met Bennett maybe six months after.

"Fast," he said.

Not really. After ten years of being someone's secret, eight months felt like forever. But I'm not going to explain that to him.

"When you know, you know," I said instead.

"Right." He sipped his coffee. "And the baby?"

"Due in February."

"Boy or girl?"

"We want to be surprised."

Actually, Bennett wanted to know and I wanted the surprise, so we compromised. That's what normal couples do - they compromise. They don't have one person making all the decisions while the other just adapts.

"Remember when you used to say you never wanted kids?" Don asked suddenly.

The question hit me like cold water. "People change."

"Do they?"

Yes, I used to say I didn't want children. But that was because I couldn't imagine bringing a child into our situation. How do you explain to a kid why Daddy's friends know them but Daddy never takes them anywhere public? Why they can't tell people about family trips or Christmas presents that cost more than most people's cars?

I never said I didn't want kids. I said I didn't want illegitimate children. There's a difference.

"Yes, Don. People change. Situations change."

He nodded, but I could tell he wasn't convinced. "You look... different."

"I'm pregnant. Of course I look different."

"No, not that. You look..." He paused. "Happy."

I wanted to say "Yes, I'm happy because my husband treats me like a human being instead of an expensive pet." But that would be cruel, and despite everything, I didn't want to hurt him.

"I am happy."

"Good." He said it like he meant it, but his eyes looked sad. "You deserve that."

We sat in uncomfortable silence for a few minutes, both lost in our thoughts, when I saw her walking toward our table. Lottie, arms full of shopping bags, cheeks flushed from the cold.

"There you are!" she said brightly, sliding into the chair next to Don. "I was looking everywhere for you."

She noticed me and her smile became more fixed. "Oh. Hi again."

"Hi."

"Don and I were just catching up," Don said, though he looked guilty, like he'd been caught doing something wrong.

"How nice." Lottie set her bags down. "I had the most wonderful time shopping. Don, you should see the necklace I found for Mother."

She's marking territory. Making it clear that she belongs here, that she has claims on him, his time, his attention. I recognized the behavior because I used to do it too, back when I was insecure about my place in Don's life.

"Actually, I should go," I said, starting to stand. "Bennett's expecting me."

"Oh, don't leave on our account," Lottie said, though her tone suggested the opposite. "Unless you have somewhere important to be."

"Christmas Eve dinner prep," I explained.

"How domestic," she smiled. "I'm sure it's nice, having such... simple pleasures."

Again with the condescension. Everything was "simple" or "nice" or "how sweet" when she talked about my life, like I was a child playing house.

"Actually, Red," Lottie continued, "I was hoping I could ask you something. Woman to woman?"

Don looked nervous. "Lottie—"

"It's okay." She reached across and touched my hand with her perfectly manicured fingers. "I was just wondering... when you worked at that club, did you ever serve Don personally? Like, private events?"

Shit. She knows. Or suspects. This isn't random curiosity.

"Sometimes," I said carefully. "The Ashworth Group hosted several events there."

"I see." Her smile didn't reach her eyes. "And did you two get to know each other? Personally?"

Don's jaw tightened. "Lottie, this is inappropriate."

"Is it?" She looked between us. "I mean, if it was just professional, then there's nothing inappropriate about asking, right?"

She's testing us. Seeing if our stories match, if we'll crack under pressure. But why? What does she gain from this?

"Don treated all the staff professionally," I lied smoothly. "He's always been a gentleman."

"Of course he has." But her eyes narrowed slightly. "Though I suppose in that kind of environment... things can get blurred. Lines can get crossed."

"I wouldn't know," I said. "I kept things strictly business."

"That's so admirable," Lottie said. "Self-control is such an important quality, don't you think? Especially for women in... service positions."

Every word was a calculated insult.

"Lottie," Don's voice carried a warning.

"What? I'm just making conversation." She turned back to me. "I mean, it must have been tempting. Working around all those wealthy, powerful men. But you kept your boundaries. That's really... commendable."

Okay, enough. I spent ten years learning how to handle mean girls with money, and I wasn't going to let this woman make me feel small in a Starbucks.