It was becoming more and more difficult, more heartbreaking, to see him so often and yet have him seem so far away. He’d been in something of a bad mood himself today, terse and withdrawn, and having very little to say. Karl, in fact, had been the only one of the crew to be in a good mood today, but he had also seemed distracted and out of sorts, small wonder considering he’d had to leave his pregnant, newly wedded wife for the next two and a half weeks. The crew was flying out in a few days to the Canadian Rockies, where the cool mountain air would be a blissful relief from the hot, muggy conditions here in Manhattan.
She’d been running so late this morning that she hadn’t dared take the time to change clothes, so she was still wearing the cropped cargo pants, tank top and flip flops she’d worn on the flight. She longed for a shower, her favorite jammies, a good stiff drink or two, greasy Chinese takeout, and an early night – in that exact order. Wisps of hair were sticking out of a braid that had passed the point of being simply messy six hours ago, and she was miserably aware of the smell of her own sweat. The very last thing she needed in this condition, especially after the really lousy day she’d already had, was to run into Elle Kimbrough. And especially when Ben’s poised, polished girlfriend looked as fresh and cool as a daisy, making Lauren feel as though she’d spent the day crawling on her belly through the jungle.
Elle was wearing a sleeveless sheath dress of pale taupe that not only flattered her skin tone but somehow didn’t have even the tiniest wrinkle. Her coordinating sling-back pumps had a sensible heel, while her black hair, as usual, was coiffed in a perfect French twist. She wore a plain gold watch that Lauren knew had still been hideously expensive, and a pair of dainty gold hoop earrings.
Lauren thought about pretending she didn’t see her, or simply giving her the briefest of waves as they passed, but cursed her bad luck – the bad luck that seemed to be getting worse as the day went on – as Elle quite intentionally approached her.
The two women had run into each other several times since Elle’s little hissy fit at the holiday party. Each time they had barely acknowledged the other, and had gone out of their way after an initial greeting to not speak again. So it was with mingled surprise and unease that Lauren stood and watched Elle walk towards her now.
“How are you, Lauren?” asked Elle in that snooty British accent Lauren hated. She really wasn’t sure why it bugged her so much. After all, Ian Gregson’s own accent was enough to make a grown woman swoon, and Lauren had been no exception. But Elle’s very upper crust tones seemed affected, exaggerated, as though she was flaunting her privileged upbringing, and Lauren almost cringed every time she spoke.
“I’ve had better days, actually,” drawled Lauren. “Jet lagged, hungry enough to eat a whole cow, and - ” she sniffed delicately at her armpits, “I really need a shower.”
Elle gave her one of those tight little smiles, the ones Lauren longed to slap off her face. “Yes, I can tell,” she replied with a faint air of disdain. “Did you just arrive in this morning?”
“Bright and early. Actually, more early than bright,” lamented Lauren. “And thank God the day is finally over. Time to head home and have dinner with my aunt.”
Elle gave a tiny sniff. “I still can’t quite believe that your aunt is the head buyer at Bergdorf’s.”
Lauren shrugged casually, well aware that Elle was getting in one of her not so subtle digs. “My sister is the one who inherited Maddy’s fashion sense, not me. And let’s face it – for the job I do, running around in couture isn’t exactly practical. Besides, as you’ll recall, I do clean up quite nicely when the occasion calls for it.”
Elle’s already ramrod stiff spine straightened a degree or two further at Lauren’s own not so subtle reminder of the gown she’d worn to the holiday party. “Well, don’t let me keep you then, Lauren. From either dinner with your aunt or your shower.”
Lauren straightened to her rather meagre height of five foot three, wishing she was wearing a pair of stiletto boots right now instead of rubber flip flops. “I take it you’re here to meet Ben?”
Elle nodded. “Yes. We’re having dinner with my parents and some of their friends. Sort of a bon voyage party for the four of us. I assume Ben has told all of you that we’re headed to Spain for two weeks?”
Lauren forced herself not to betray the way her heart sunk at this news. “He mentioned he was going on vacation but not where. Or with whom. So, Spain, huh? It sounds – hot at this time of year. Like at least a hundred degrees or so.”
Elle shrugged, as though such things weren’t even worth her consideration. “The villa we’ll be renting is air conditioned, and has a pool. The heat won’t be a concern.”
There was an uncomfortable silence for a few moments until Lauren ventured, “Well, have a great time.”
There was an avaricious gleam in Elle’s dark eyes as she replied, “Oh, I definitely will. Especially since I expect we’ll have good news to share when we return.”
Lauren’s heart sunk about ten feet at the smug tone of Elle’s voice. “Really? Like what?”
Elle gave her a very deliberate smile. “Well, let’s just say that Karl and Tamsyn might not be the only ones who tie the knot in the not so distant future.”
Lauren suddenly felt a cold chill run through her, down into her very bones, and the sweat that had dried on her skin throughout the day now felt clammy. Somehow she managed to maintain some semblance of dignity as she told Elle with exquisite politeness, “Well, I wish you all the best then, if that proves to be the case. Have a lovely trip.”
She forced herself to walk out of the building with her usual swagger, never betraying for even a second how deeply Elle’s announcement had shattered her. As she walked the long blocks towards Maddy’s apartment, she wondered wildly if what Elle had told her was really true, or if it was all a pack of lies intended to fuck with her head. Ben had never once dropped a hint that he and Elle were that serious, that he was actually thinking of proposing. But then, Ben spoke to her as seldom as possible these days, and never about anything personal.
It made sense, she told herself as she continued on her way. Horrible, awful sense. Ben and Elle had been together for about two years now, lived together for God’s sake. Lauren knew he’d been to England several times with Elle to visit her family and spend holidays. Now they were vacationing with her parents.
Yes, it all added up, and pointed to the next logical step in their relationship. Elle would likely come back from Spain sporting an engagement ring, her parents would throw her and Ben some hoity toity party to announce the good news, and in a year’s time they would be married in a big, lavish ceremony.
And in the meanwhile, the few pieces of Lauren’s heart that still remained intact would be crushed into tiny bits, until there was nothing of it left. How in the world would she be able to bear it – to watch the man she still loved, the only man she’d ever loved – marry someone else?
With that thought, Lauren made a decision – one that had been weighing heavily on her for some time now. Elle’s joyful little announcement a short time ago had been just the catalyst she needed to finally follow that decision through.
***
Madelyn Benoit wasn’t a woman who was easily shocked or caught off guard. In the very powerful and influential position she held, she had learned to be prepared for just about anything, to keep her wits about her, and always remain calm. But she was completely flabbergasted when she walked inside her penthouse apartment after work to find her beloved niece curled up on the sofa in the fetal position, sobbing her heart out. A shot glass and half empty bottle of tequila rested on the coffee table within arm’s reach, and Maddy guessed that Lauren had had more than her normal share, given the state she was in.