

 

Garnar’s face grows progressively redder, so red in fact, that he resembles a cherry tomato.

Miles, meanwhile, boyishly grins. “Surely you know which of these women is your wife?”

Garnar glances from Thea to me and back again. It’s kind of fun, watching him squirm. People tend to get under his skin rather easily, but when he starts yelling, they back off. Miles, as a representative, holds much more power here than Garnar, so Garnar would never risk yelling.

He only punches down.

Yet as fun as this is, I also watch with a sinking feeling of trepidation. Garnar will be there when I go home tonight. He might not yell at Miles, but he will have no such reservations with me. All of my enjoyment will be sucked back tenfold later.

Finally, Garnar nods to me. “Esther is indeed my wife, however we both agreed… Since she is working today, preparing the event as you said… That I would bri

A cold sweat breaks out in the back of my neck. I have no idea why Miles is calling me out like this. 
Could it be the check? I offended him so much that now he’s taking it out on my husband. But surely he overheard Cynthia talking about how Garnar wants an open marriage. Does he think a happy wife would step out with someone she thought was a call boy?
Maybe he doesn’t care about any of that.
He’s the wild card. Unpredictable, unknowable.
Whatever comes next will be a surprise. I hold my breath, feeling very much like I’m teetering on the edge of a knife.
I may hate Garnar, but he needs his reputation to keep his job. And he needs that job to help take care of the girls. My own position wouldn’t pay enough to keep up their current lifestyle.
I want those girls to have the things they want. So that means, I have to stand beside Garnar in this.
The feeling, I don’t think, is mutual. Garna



 

I duck back around the corner before Miles can notice me. When I heard the Hamilton name, I thought it was a coincidence. Even now, having seen with my own eyes, I couldn’t quite believe my eyes.

How can a representative be a call boy? Or… is this all some kind of horrible misunderstanding?

God, no wonder he was so upset about the check!

Pressing my hands against the side of my head, I half hope that the world might blink out of existence and take me with it. Anything to get me out of the utter embarrassment that I’m sure to face the moment I step out from behind this tent and have to face Miles again.

I can’t hide forever though. Even with the embarrassment, taking care of the event and its attendees is my job, a job that I’m proud to have and damn good at.

Gathering my courage, I suck in a deep inhale. Hold. One, two, three, and release.

Okay. I can face this. I’m not ashamed.

I take step out from behind the refreshment tent – and then I see Garnar standing in line to speak with Senator Hamilton. On Garnar’s arm is Thea.

Confusion wracks my brain again. Garnar said we didn’t need to come to this event, so why is he here with my sister? Unless, of course, that was just one more lie in a series of Garnar lies.

Unlike with Miles, though, I feel no compulsion to hide my face. Rather, I am ready to make my presence known, just so I can see the look on Garnar’s.

Lifting my head high, I cross the grassy field until I reach the stone concourse and finally, my husband and my apparent rival.

“Hello, Garnar. Thea.”

Thea’s eyes go wide, taking me in. “Esther,” she says lightly as she slowly unwinds her arm from my husband’s.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Garnar snaps so loudly, it draws the attention of those nearby. “I told you not to come.”

“Please keep your voice down,” I say calmly and with the authority of my position here at the country club. “You do not need to startle other guests.”

“You are stalking me, aren’t you? You can’t stand the thought of me leaving without you. You’ve come here to embarrass me.”

The only person embarrassing Garnar in this moment is Garnar himself.

“I’m not here for you,” I tell him.

His eyes narrow. “Bullshit.”

“Please don’t use such language,” I say.

“Look at you. Look at that damned dress.”

My dress is entirely tasteful. It is cut above the knee but not so far as to cause any scandal – certainly not as short as my dress from last night.

“You’ve been trying to dress younger than you are,” Garnar snaps. “You are a thirty-year-old mother of two, Esther. Accept that and dress the part.”

My sister, meanwhile, is wearing a skirt much shorter than mine and a blouse with a plunging neckline. But, as she is 8 years my junior, he must see that acceptable.

I procure one of my business cards from my pocket and hand it to him.

“What’s this?” he asks and snatches it from my hand. “’Event planner?’ What bullshit is this?”

“I’m working this event,” I say. “I helped plan it.”

Garnar suddenly grabs my wrist. He’s not holding it tightly enough to hurt, but the suddenness of his movement startles me. It frightens me.

“Let me go.” I keep my voice light, not wanting to cause a scene.

“You are my wife,” he hisses in return, as if that gives him any right to touch me however he pleases.

“Mr. Graham! There you are!” A friendly older voice calls for Garnar, and he immediately swivels away from me. Like a light switch flipped, his demeanor shifts to bright sunshine in two seconds flat.

“Mr. Carver,” Garnar says. Carver shakes Garnar’s hand. 

Mr. Carver is the 70 year old owner of the Rockview Elite Country Club. He’s a kind older man, but stern, with a shock of white hair, and a distant sort of smile that makes me think he always has one foot in the past somewhere, reliving a happy memory.

“Allow me a moment to praise your wife.” Carver holds his arm out towards me. “She has done some amazing work with this event. Paige was worried sick, but Esther swooped in and took care of everything. She’s truly a blessing to the country club.”

“Yes,” Garnar says, his smile growing tight. “Thank you. She is… something. Certainly.”

Behind his back, Thea glares at me so much ferocity, I’m surprised I don’t burst into flame.

 

Carver soon gets called away, and I start to excuse myself. I have plenty of other work to do, and one of the last things in the world I want to hear right now is another one of Garnar’s lectures.

He doesn’t let me get far before he’s gripping me again at the arm.

“Not here,” I tell him.

His eyes reveal his fury, but glancing around, he seems to come to his senses and releases me. “At home.”

I nod. Later, I’ll deal with his drama. For now, I have to handle this event.

I turn around quickly and nearly run straight into a strong, all-too-familiar chest. Albeit, one that is now covered in a striking blue suit.

Swallowing thickly, I’m suddenly face to face with Miles Hamilton once again.

Do I say hello? Do I apologize? Does he even recognize me? His eyes reveal nothing.

A thousand questions run through my head. Before I can find any answers, he glances away from me and looks at Garnar instead.

“Did I hear Mr. Carver introduce you as Mr. Graham?” Mile said. He sidesteps me to approach my husband. “Mr. Graham from the Westburgh Technology Company?”

“That’s right.” Garnar puffs out his chest and holds out his hand. “I’ve recently been promoted to regional CEO.”

Miles ignores Garnar’s hand. “How nice. Though I admittedly am confused.”

Garnar’s smile wavers. He holds his hand outward for only a moment more before letting it drop. “What could be confusing?”

“Earlier, I heard you introduce Miss… Thea, was it? As your date,” Miles says. 

Thea blushes as Miles acknowledges her. This time, I really can’t blame her. The man has that effect on everyone.

“You must be mistaken,” Garnar says, but he’s fumbling.

“I don’t think so.” Miles glances back at me. “I never forget a face.”

Oh, God. So he definitely didn’t forget! My heart picks up speed, pounding a fast cadence in my chest.

Miles looks back to Garnar. “But Mr. Carver just introduced this woman, Esther, as your wife. Surely Mr. Carver is not in error. After all, he would know one of his own employees, especially one as talented as Esther, for having arranged such a lovely party.”

The compliment sends pride surging through me, even as embarrassment is taking root. Is Miles seeking to punish me by exposing me as a woman being cheated on in her own place of employment? Or is the trick to make Garnar the one uncomfortable, as punishment for being a cheater?

I don’t know Miles well enough to surmise. I can certainly hope though, and I’m hoping pretty hard.

“So, Mr. Graham. Which is it?” Miles asks. “Which of these women is actually your wife?”

 


Garnar’s face grows progressively redder, so red in fact, that he resembles a cherry tomato.
Miles, meanwhile, boyishly grins. “Surely you know which of these women is your wife?”
Garnar glances from Thea to me and back again. It’s kind of fun, watching him squirm. People tend to get under his skin rather easily, but when he starts yelling, they back off. Miles, as a representative, holds much more power here than Garnar, so Garnar would never risk yelling.
He only punches down.
Yet as fun as this is, I also watch with a sinking feeling of trepidation. Garnar will be there when I go home tonight. He might not yell at Miles, but he will have no such reservations with me. All of my enjoyment will be sucked back tenfold later.
Finally, Garnar nods to me. “Esther is indeed my wife, however we both agreed… Since she is working today, preparing the event as you said… That I would bring her sister Thea as my impromptu date. To help her make connections, you understand.”
Garnar’s l

#Chapter 7: Nice To Meet You… Again