Devin may or may not have been drunk, I wasn’t really sure. He was louder than I was used to, clapping the other guys on their backs and showing off his surround sound stereo system. “It’s all controlled from my phone or an iPad,” he said, showing Jay Ray his phone. Suddenly the music shot up about ten notches.
“Turn that the f**k down!” the woman named Lizzie said. “I’m trying to talk.”
She was giving me the poorest impression of all the guests. She had porcelain white skin, deep burgundy lips, and a halo of honey-colored curls around her face. Her features were delicate, doll-like, and she was dressed too young for her age, in tiny denim overalls that barely covered her ass, and socks that came up to her knees. But with boots that had six-inch heels and nothing but a bra. It was like pedophile p**n star, but with a shitty attitude. Most of the night Lizzie had been scowling or giving an obnoxiously fake tinkling laugh. On two occasions she had met my eye and given me a smug smirk one time, a cold dismissal the other. Her boyfriend was a model who seemed determined to insert his hand up her overalls. She would swat at him without even breaking conversation with Sapphire.
“So why didn’t you bring Brooke?” Lizzie called loudly in the direction of Devin.
I was sitting in my chair, legs tightly crossed, shoulders tense, and at that, I wished the cushion would open up and swallow me. I’d been trying to figure out how to slip out of the room unnoticed. I’d been hoping Devin would take the guys upstairs to his studio in the next stop on his Bragging Tour. But now Lizzie had brought him to the attention of everyone.
And where was Brooke? I admit I wanted to know myself. He’d never said he wasn’t seeing her anymore. He’d admitted she was just a f**k buddy and of course, I knew he couldn’t have seen her while he was at Richfield with me, but had he ever told Brooke they were done? Had he seen her since I’d been gone?
“Who’s Brooke?” Devin asked.
Everyone laughed.
“I thought you were all right and tight with her,” one of the guys said. “She’s a foxy lady.”
“It was just a casual thing,” Devin said, waving his hand. “I haven’t talked to her in a month.”
I let out a sigh of relief. It would make me feel like shit if he were still involved with Brooke in any way. That was a line in the sand I wasn’t willing to cross. I didn’t want to be involved with a guy who was involved with someone else. Not that I was sure if Devin and I were actually still involved or not. But I hoped we were, despite my defection.
But the sound I made was too loud. Lizzie swiveled her head and narrowed her eyes at me.
Shit. I knew that look. It was the look foster siblings gave before they blamed something on me. I dropped my foot to the floor, anticipating something bad was about to go down. She was going to call attention to me, embarrass me. Ask if Devin and I were a thing.
But what she did was way worse.
With a smile, she said, “So when is your divorce going to be final, G? You need to negotiate custody of your friends better. Kadence had the balls to ask me to Turks and Caicos with her in a few weeks.”
His divorce wasn’t final? I dug my nails into my thigh, trying to steady myself, waiting for his response. I’d assumed they were divorced legally. Assumed. I realized that while he had frequently referred to Kadence as his ex-wife, he had never said anything about when their divorce was final. I had never researched it, not considering the possibility they were still married.
“Probably never,” he said. “At first she was fighting me about everything. Down to the last f**king satin sheet. But now she’s just refusing to participate in any negotiations.” He raised his wine glass. “Fortunately it’s done in two years whether she agrees to sign anything or not, court mandated. So I propose a toast. To lawyers. And their complete f**king inability to do their job while taking piles of money.”
There was laughter all around.
Except from me. I felt like hyperventilating. I felt sick. Not only was he still married, he had completely failed to mention that he was in the midst of a divorce battle. The pictures delivered to the house suddenly made sense.
Liar. Cheater. Manwhore.
Brooke, the woman here at the party with the gorgeous afro, me. His conquests, lovers, whatever you wanted to call us. Women he f**ked.
While still married.
I suddenly realized that I didn’t know jack shit about anything, and I had been nothing but a complete little girl moron, swept away by some fantasy of friendship and love. Without any thought for what anyone would think, I jumped out of my chair and walked across the room, as close to the windows as I could cling. I had to get out. Get away.
“Tiffany!” he called after me.
I wasn’t turning around. Nothing could make me turn back. I couldn’t let those people, those rich and privileged and smug people, see that I was hurt. But at the last second, I veered toward the garage, wanting my bag off the console. I couldn’t leave Gran there. But it was a miscalculation. When I turned, bag in hand, Devin was there, frowning.
“Where are you going?”
“To bed.”
He tried to take my arm, but I jerked back. Amelia had followed me, and she barked at him in warning. The look he gave us both was thunderous. As I moved past him, he stepped in my path, so that we knocked shoulders. I dropped the bag, my trembling hands losing their grip. The box tumbled out, and opened slightly, so that ashes spilled onto the hardwood floor.
Oh, my God. With a cry of dismay, I dropped to my knees and righted the box so no more would fall out, and then I tried to shovel what was on the floor back in with my hand.
“What the f**k is that?”
I glanced up at him, vision blurred with tears. “It’s my grandmother’s ashes.”
“What? Holy shit…” He squatted down beside me and tried to help.
Smacking his hand, I snapped. “Leave it alone! Just leave me alone!” I finished collecting what I could and I stood up, hands shaking, clutching the box to my stomach.
Everyone in the room was staring at us. At me. With horror. Disgust. Though there was sympathy from Sapphire.
Appalled, I started walking, faster and faster. By the time I got to the hallway past the kitchen, I started running. Tears were choking me, and for a second I thought I was going to throw up.
In my room, I slammed the door shut behind me and locked it.
I sank to the floor.
Chapter Ten
Back against the door, I gave in to my emotion and cried for the first time since my grandmother had died.