But I blinked and his expression disappeared.
I instinctively slid my arm around Delilah’s waist and pulled her into my side.
She was trembling.
And whoever the hell he was, he’d just blown her cover.
“Delilah, do you and the Police Commissioner know each other?” Victoria asked. She was staring between the two of them like they were puzzle pieces that didn’t fit together. “What a small world.”
“Ancient history,” she said weakly. “And I’m Delilah Thornhill now.” She put a special emphasis on Thornhill.
Her words triggered a memory—the two of us talking in my office late at night. I once trusted a man I shouldn’t have. But it’s ancient history now. Was this man the reason Delilah had been fired?
“We used to work together,” Mark said to Victoria. “Although I don’t know who you are?”
He reached his hand out as if to shake mine.
“Henry Thornhill,” I said firmly, ignoring the gesture. “Delilah’s husband.”
Mark’s lips thinned as he dropped his hand. He glared down at Delilah’s left hand. “I see.”
“Weren’t we all talking about me a moment ago?” Victoria cut in.
The Commissioner took the hint.
“As I was saying,” he said, dragging his eyes away from Delilah, “we wanted to thank you for your good work and service. You’ve done so much for the city of Philadelphia.”
“Yes, thank you for acknowledging that,” Victoria said primly. “I’m quite sure you have as well, Commissioner Davis. I so admire the police department.”
“It’s a great job,” Mark agreed. “Serving the community. Doing what’s right. Don’t you agree, Delilah?”
I smoothed my palm up the curve of her spine and desperately searched for a way out of this situation. Victoria could not know that Delilah was a former police officer.
“Sure,” she said curtly but didn’t elaborate.
“You know I read about you in the paper the other day,” Victoria said. “An article about the new rules and regulations you’ve been implementing in the city department. Sounds like you stepped into quite a mess when you were first appointed.”
“Corruption,” he said, raising his wine glass as if giving a toast. “Corruption is everywhere, Ms. Whitney. Before I was appointed, we had officers abusing taxpayer dollars for personal expenses. Romantic relationships between superior officers and subordinates.” He shook his head. “It was a mess I was all too happy to clean up.”
Delilah’s trembling intensified.
“It is startling the lengths that people will go these days to break the law,” Victoria said. “There are so few people these days you can truly trust.”
My head snapped up at that—half of me was concerned my partner was about to faint. The other half was wrenched back to the night I’d confronted Bernard. The calm, even way he’d spoken to Louisa over the phone: It’s horrible when we discover how few people in this world we can truly trust.
Victoria Whitney was shaking her head along with Mark, as if devastated at the thought. I was struck at the similarities between her and my former boss: their serene confidence, a certainty that the rules did not apply to them.
“Henry,” Delilah whispered. I plunged back into the present, where Delilah was looking at me with wide blue eyes. I shrugged out of my jacket and placed it over her shoulders, rubbing her arms up and down.
“You look freezing,” I said, cupping her face. “Are you alright?” My thumb moved across her cheek. Whether the gesture was real or fake, I couldn’t be sure. But seeing Delilah Barrett weak-kneed was evoking a sweep of unfamiliar feelings. I wanted to wrap her in my arms and take her someplace safe, far away from here.
“When did the two of you work together again?” Victoria said. She was staring at Delilah. Mark was staring at Delilah.
But Delilah was looking up at me.
And fainted right to the ground.
20
Henry
Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. There was a gasp from Victoria. Delilah’s head lolled to the side. Her knees buckled and she pitched backward to the ground.
I might have said her name. She might have said mine. The only thing that was real was my driving motivation to catch my partner before she fell. And I did—one hand beneath her shoulder blades, one at the back of her head—a mere inch before she hit the floor.
“Delilah, oh my God,” I whispered.
Someone was bringing us a glass of water. Victoria was demanding people get back, give her space. I laid her down gently, with as much care as humanly possible. I brushed the hair from her forehead—then she fluttered her eyes open. I was kneeling next to her, our faces a foot apart. She moved her lips but I couldn’t hear.
“Tell me you’re okay. Do you need a doctor?”
“Faking,” she whispered—so quiet at first I didn’t entirely catch it. Her mouth hovered at my ear—and the heightened tension of the moment couldn’t prevent my body’s reaction to her pretty mouth on my skin. “I’m faking. You need to get us out of here.”
I brought her palm to my lips. Kissed it as I let out a very real sigh of relief. “She’s okay,” I called to Victoria. Mark was nowhere to be seen. “She has low blood sugar sometimes. She just needs a moment.”
“Of course, my dear,” Victoria said, hand to her chest. She strode over with a glass of ice water as I helped Delilah gingerly sit up.
Delilah winced, took the glass. “Thank you,” she said. “I’m feeling embarrassed.”
“Don’t be,” Victoria admonished. “You think I haven’t fainted from exhaustion before? As women, we push ourselves too hard. All of the time.” She laid a hand on Delilah’s shoulder almost tenderly. “People think having a trust fund isn’t stressful. But you and I both know how hard it can be.”
My fake wife deserved an Oscar nomination for her ability to keep her face neutral.
“You’re right,” she murmured.
“You need your rest. And for your handsome husband to take care of you.”
Delilah nodded. I took her hand, helped her stand up. “I’ll be well by the gala, I promise.”
Victoria squeezed us both—looking at us proudly. “Oh, I can’t wait. Now take your beautiful wife home, Henry. I have to get back to being the center of attention.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said, extraordinarily grateful when she finally left us to mingle back into the audience. Under the pretense of comforting my wife, I pulled Delilah into my chest, my lips on her temple.
“You’re brilliant.”
“I know,” she whispered.
“We’ll leave and try to avoid Mark. I haven’t seen him. I think he’s —”
“Do you need medical help Officer Barrett?”
Commissioner Davis had sidled back, expression filled with an abundance of fake sympathy.
“We were leaving,” Delilah said, subtly looking through the crowd. We were both aware of Victoria potentially watching us.
“I have to say, I’m utterly shocked to see you. What’s it been, two years? And you’re married to boot.” He shot his eyes up toward mine. I was at least six inches taller than him. Delilah walked on unsteady legs to his side. My brow furrowed, concerned. Her fingertips flew to her forehead, as if she was light-headed.