The moment my husband saw his CEO enter the ballroom, he grabbed my arm and pushed me behind a heavy velvet curtain.
“Stay here,” Daniel whispered sharply. “And if anyone asks, you’re not my wife.”
For three seconds, I honestly thought he was joking.
Then I looked at his face.
He wasn’t embarrassed.
He was afraid.
The annual Halston Meridian gala was dazzling.
Crystal chandeliers hung over the ballroom.
Champagne flowed from elaborate towers.
Executives and their spouses moved through the room in designer clothes that probably cost more than my car.
I was wearing a simple navy dress I had bought for eighty-nine dollars.
Before we even left home, Daniel had looked at it as though I had personally offended him.
“You seriously don’t have anything better?”
“I like this dress.”
“My promotion is being announced tonight, Claire. These people notice everything.”
Apparently, that included his wife.
From the moment we arrived, Daniel behaved as though he didn’t want anyone important to know I existed.
He didn’t introduce me to colleagues.
He walked several steps ahead of me.
Whenever a senior executive approached, he somehow managed to position himself so I was hidden behind a group of guests, a waiter, or a decorative column.
At first, I tried to convince myself that he was simply nervous.
Then Vanessa approached.
She worked with Daniel in corporate communications.
Her eyes moved slowly over my dress.
“Oh,” she said. “Daniel, I thought your wife wasn’t coming tonight.”
Daniel’s smile tightened.
“Change of plans.”
Vanessa touched his sleeve.
“Well, let’s just hope Mr. Halston doesn’t notice this particular change of plans.”
They laughed.
I didn’t.
