Chapter Twenty-Five
Lily was trying her hardest not to think about her part of that retched plan – the things she would have to say, the lies she’d have to tell... Unfortunately, it was a bit tough when work was far from hopping. The breakfast rush was over, the tables cleared and wiped down, and the condiments and napkin dispensers had been restocked, leaving plenty of time for her mind to wander, and all roads seemed to lead back to what she was dreading.
It also didn’t help knowing that she was being watched. Every time she passed that stupid window, she felt her skin prickle with irritation as her inner cat’s hackles rose. Somehow she’d been reduced to a bug under a microscope. She was definitely empathetic to the bug.
When the fashionably dressed woman flounced into the diner, Lily perked up. Finally, a customer to break up her tumultuous thoughts. Of course, this could be another watchdog, sent in by the police to get a closer look, maybe casually pry for information…
Lily’s nose twitched and her eyes watered. Whoever this woman was, she positively reeked of perfume, the smell so cloying that Lily felt like it was coating the back of her throat. Tipping her head back for a moment, she stared at the ceiling in an attempt to forestall the sneeze tickling her senses.
A bit more in control, Lily approached the woman with her best customer service smile. “Can I get you some coffee?” She asked, while her eyes took in the woman’s appearance. She was quite pretty, if a bit too thin for her frame, with her long dark hair, thick and loosely curled, and her make-up artfully applied. But there was a bit of a hardness to her face, her skin stretched a touch too tightly across her highlighted cheekbones, the hollows beneath a bit too deep.
Lily wasn’t up to date on the latest fashions, but the cream colored wrap dress the woman was wearing looked expensive, as did the multitude of jewelry hanging off of her ears, around the woman’s throat and wrists, and the size of the stones in the rings adorning her manicured fingers were probably worth a fortune.
The woman clapped her hands together, her face full of delight. “What a charming little town this is!” She exclaimed before carefully perching on one of the counter stools. “Though I must say I’m surprised Christian likes it, and water – please. He usually prefers things a bit more exciting.”
Lily stiffened at the sound of her male’s name on this woman’s lips. While her body went through the motions of getting the requested water, her mind was ricocheting with questions. Setting the glass in front of the woman, Lily cleared her throat and tried to resume smiling. “You know Christian?” Please let this woman be a sister, a cousin, a work acquaintance… please, please, please.
The woman raised her eyes from her perusal of the menu and smiled. “Of course.”
Of course… A totally unsatisfactory answer and one that implied that everyone should know exactly who this woman was. The dread in Lily’s stomach knotted tighter. “And you are?” Lily asked, no longer caring if she came off as rude. The woman was damn lucky Lily wasn’t growling at this point.
Placing one of those heavily ringed hands over her heart, the woman let out a little gasp. “I’m so sorry! Where are my manners? I’m Mary Beth Black, Christian’s wife.”
Gut punch. That’s what those words felt like. And the fact that Lily somehow kept from doubling over in front of Christian’swife– well, that was one of life’s great mysteries.
“Are you all right, dear? You look a bit…” Mary Beth Black waved a hand near her own face as she hesitated. “Well, honestly, a bit green. Do you need to sit down?”
Lily tried to swallow the gorge that had risen in her throat. She would not be sick in front of this female. She refused. With a whispered “Excuse me,” she made for the bathroom and locked herself in one of the two stalls. Her chest was so tight she couldn’t breathe, every inhale a short, staccato gasp as she attempted to fill her lungs. Hot tears rolled freely down her cheeks and her upper lip tickled to let her know that her eyes weren’t the only things leaking. Ripping off what was probably half a roll of toilet paper, Lily collapsed on the closed seat of the toilet and buried her face in the cheap single-ply.
He had lied to her. Misled her. Finally, after so long, after never thinking it would happen, she had put her faith, her trust, her heart in the hands of a male and he’d broken it, broken her. Oh, God, this hurt. She had lived through public disparagement, forced isolation, shame, beatings, and near strangulation, yet none of it had hurt quite this bad. She had fallen in love with a married male. A mewling cry broke free of her throat. She thought she had known torture… yet this – betrayal – cut so much deeper. Her heart may never recover.
A tentative knock had Lily lifting her face and wiping roughly at her damp cheeks. Before she could find her voice, the outer door squeaked open and she heard William, the usually gruff cook say almost sheepishly, “Are you okay, Lily? Do you want me to call someone?”
How long had she been in here? Lily took a deep breath and cleared her throat. “Is the customer still at the counter?”
“No. She had about two bites of a salad and then left with Tim who came to pick up his lunch order. She’s going to follow him out to the Black place.”
Lily couldn’t form words, her mind picturing the happy reunion in her head while her heart bled. The sob burst through before she could catch it. Poor Willy heard and stuttered out a few nonsensical syllables before she heard the door shut. How humiliating.
Digging deep, Lily tried to picture Hank, a sure way to get her angry, in hopes that that anger would counteract the pain, give her something to quell the tears, but the image wouldn’t come. At some point, the anger, the hatred, the need for vengeance had been superseded with these softer emotions that had left her vulnerable. God, she was such a fool.
Lily startled and nearly hissed when the door of the bathroom banged open. “I’m here, Lily.” Lucy stood outside of the locked stall. “I’m here, honey. Tell me what you need.”
Lily unlocked the door. The older female took one look at the ravage of Lily’s tear streaked face and Lucy’s worried expression morphed into one of such sympathy, that, to Lily’s humiliation, she burst into a loud torrent of tears. She felt arms come around her, a soft shoulder beneath her cheek, and a warm hand petting the back of her head, as Lucy crooned and rocked her. She would never have guessed how much she needed this right then. Lily cried harder.
Christian watched with a grimace as Mary Beth picked her way across the uneven ground in front of his cabin on tiptoes so that the heels of her cream colored Louboutin’s didn’t sink into the soft earth. Wow, she had to have bathed in perfume, her scent so strong he could have probably smelled her coming two counties over. While it was standard practice for shifters to mask their scent when going into unknown territory, this was overkill. “What are you doing here?”
Mary Beth stopped short, a look of affront on her face. “Well, hello to you too.”
Christian growled, not bothering to hide his annoyance. “What are you doing here, Mary Beth?”
“You know,” she frowned as she wobbled and shot a hand out for balance, “Youcouldhelp me.” Then she looked around her surroundings with a grimace of distaste. “I can’t believe you’re actually staying here.”
Christian leaned back against the outer wall of his house and watched her struggle with her footing, in no mood to play the gentleman, especially since she still hadn’t bothered to answer his question. Heaven forbid she take the damn shoes off to make it easier. But that was Mary Beth – fashion first. That had been him as well not so long ago. Amazing, thinking back and actually seeing how much he’d changed. And all for the better.
“If you don’t like it, you can always leave.” He suggested with a careless shrug.
As far as he could tell, his ex-wife hadn’t changed a bit. Last he heard she had shacked up with a senator – or had it been a senator’s son? Not that he cared. He’d never loved this woman. He hadn’t loved her when he married her, by the middle of their marriage, he hadn’t even liked her, and by the end, he’d loathed the sight of her, so what she did and who she did, was nothing to him. Honestly, it never had been.
