“I’m going to go find the powder room,” I said with a laugh and a forced smile.
“Jen…”
“I’ll be right back,” I told him. “Continue your meeting.”
He took a step toward me, but I turned and fled the ballroom. I didn’t want to interrupt. I needed to get to a restroom and get my shit together. Fucking anxiety. Why did it have to ruin everything?
I pushed into the restroom. A half-dozen women were inside, but no one looked my way when I went to the end of the long line of mirrors and took deep, heaving breaths, my hands braced on the cold counter. I needed to get this together. I needed to stop panicking. I needed…I needed…a Xanax.
I dumped my purse onto the counter and dug around inside. My hands were still shaking too badly that I couldn’t find what I was looking for. I jerked my Canon out of the bag and set it down as carefully as I could manage on the counter. No one else was even close to me. It would be safe where it was.
Then I rummaged through the rest of the bag for the pill bottles I always kept with me. First, my everyday anxiety pill. I dropped that on the counter next to my bag. A sleeping pill that I definitely didn’t need right now, but it helped calm my brain enough at night to finally crash. And—aha—my Xanax prescription.
I should have taken a half-pill before even coming to this thing, but I’d been on cloud nine. Everything was working well in my relationship. The sex was great. I was even sleeping because his dick apparently put me straight to sleep. I’d barely needed to take my everyday pill, but I knew better than to forget. Now, I was here, suffering for forgoing the Xanax. What had I thought—that my social anxiety would just disappear?
I popped the cap, washing the half-pill down with some water from the sink. Then I grabbed a paper towel and dabbed at my mouth and nose. I’d started sweating, thanks to the adrenaline rush from panicking. I couldn’t go back out there, looking like this.
A throat cleared in the middle of the restroom, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. Then I froze in place.
Ashleigh Sinclair stood there, watching me. I didn’t know how long she’d been standing there. My anxiety pills were still on the counter, and I hastily tossed them all back into my bag. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Ashleigh stopped in front of me. “Are you okay?”
“Fine.”
“You don’t look so great. Pale, dilated pupils, sweating,” Ashleigh rattled off my symptoms and then looked toward my bag and back to me.
“I’m fine,” I repeated more forcefully.
I turned my back on her and started the water. I got some soap and began to wash my hands, as if I’d come from the toilet. It was better than looking at her and wondering what scheme she was cooking up.
“Do you really think this is going to work?” Ashleigh asked, casually leaning her hip against the countertop.
“Is what going to work?”
“Hiding this from him.”
I stilled completely. My heart rate had been coming down, but it skyrocketed again. The water flowed over my now-clean hands. I needed to move, needed to think, needed some comeback.
“I…I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said lamely.
“Well, it all makes sense, doesn’t it?”
“Leave me alone.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll keep it our little secret,” she said, moving in close. Then her elbow knocked into my camera, still sitting precariously on the counter.
I gasped, reaching for it, but I was too slow. The camera fell beyond my grasp and into the sink, water soaking it on contact. I almost screamed as I yanked it out of the stream of water and grabbed a handful of paper towels to try to undo the damage.
“Oops,” she said.
I whirled on her, all of my anxiety evaporating in the wake of my fury. It was one thing to be mean to me. It was another thing entirely to try to hurt my livelihood. I had an elopement to photograph tomorrow, and this was my only working camera, my favorite, my baby. She was easily the most expensive thing I’d ever owned. And if she was ruined, then I’d kill Ashleigh Sinclair.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I snapped.
“It was an accident,” she said with a viperous smile.
“No, it wasn’t. We both know it was no accident. Do you think this is going to win Julian back? Or are you past the point of that and going for flat-out sabotage? Because all it’s going to do is make him hate you. Is that what you want?”
Ashleigh straightened to her full height. Her teeth tight together. “And you think what you’re doing is going to win him?”
“News flash,” I snarled, “Julian is already mine. He’s mine, Ashleigh.”
“For now.”
“You had your chance. You had him for two years. And then you ruined everything. There is no way that he would ever go back to you after what you did.” I took a step toward her, throwing my purse back on my shoulder and grabbing my camera, still wadded up in paper towels. “So, why don’t you get the hell out of my way and get your own life?”
Ashleigh opened her mouth and then closed it, as if she had no retort to that. Miraculously, she took a step to the side. I strode past her without looking back.
I couldn’t believe I’d done that. It had only taken ruining my favorite camera to get here, but I’d stood up to Ashleigh Sinclair.
26
Julian
I shook hands with George. I laughed at their bad jokes and smiled at their wandering-eyed wives. I did it all, and at the end, I came out with the yes. They wanted to work with me. I could look forward to hearing from them. But the entire time, I’d been worrying about Jen. She’d freaked out halfway into the meeting and disappeared. She still hadn’t come back. I didn’t like that I wasn’t there to protect her.
At the first opportunity to get away, I took it and stormed across the concert hall to find Jennifer. I texted, asking where she was, but she didn’t respond. A panic came over me when I ran into the last person I wanted—Ashleigh.
“Have you seen Jennifer?” I asked.
She smiled a dangerous smile. “She was in the bathroom.”
“Is she still in there?”
“I think she left.”
“The bathroom?”
“The party,” she said.
“What did you do?” I demanded.
She gave me the biggest puppy-dog eyes she could muster. “Why would you think that I did anything?”
“History,” I snarled.
Ashleigh shrugged. “I didn’t do anything, but you should maybe look in her purse.”
“What?” I blinked in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m just saying…if you want to know who you’re really dating.”
I sighed heavily. “I don’t want to play games. If you don’t know where she is, then we’re done here.”
“I’m trying to warn you,” she said, reaching for my arm.
I pulled back sharply. “Don’t.”
“Two years,” Ashleigh whispered. “We were together for two years, and you can just throw it all away? Do I disgust you that much?”