One Tiny Lie – Jennifer Youngblood Page 0,39

looked across the bistro. Her heart nearly stopped when she recognized a familiar face. This can’t be happening, her mind screamed. It was something out of a bad dream. Spencer Wellington! What was he doing here? Instinct told her that she needed to jump up and flee from the bistro, but her body was frozen.

Spencer arose from his seat and came toward her in cocky strides. “Well, well, if it isn’t Luna Ellison,” he sneered. “Long time no see.” Hatred emanated from his eyes. “In case you’re wondering, my dad’s doing just fine.”

A suffocating shame poured over Luna like scalding hot wax as the ghosts rose up taunting and terrible. An image of Douglas Wellington flashed through her mind. He’d seemed so sophisticated to her then, so polished. An English professor, Douglas was twenty years older than Luna. He’d romanced her. She fell hard. Luna was mourning the death of her mom. Douglas claimed his wife had recently died. Their grief drew them together … or so Luna thought. She was only sixteen years old. Still a child in so many ways.

“Still shacking up with married men?” Spencer said, disgust flashing through his eyes.

Luna’s hand curled up around her throat. She’d never shacked up with Douglas. Had never slept with him. But to her everlasting shame, she’d fallen for his lies. Spencer saw Douglas and Luna together at a restaurant. Douglas confronted his dad. They had a heated argument. That’s how Luna learned that Douglas was playing her. His wife had been very much alive … at home, waiting for him.

Her brain raced to connect the dots. Why was Spencer Wellington here in Sonoma?

Spencer frowned. “What’re you doing here? Your hair’s red. I saw you online a couple of days ago. You were blonde and touring with Cash Romeo. Didn’t you get shot in the shoulder? You seem fit as a fiddle now.”

It mortified Luna to know that Spencer had been keeping such close tabs on her. Was he trying to exact revenge for what had happened? She rose to her feet. Her legs were shaking like rubber bands. “I’m sorry. You must have me mistaken for someone else.”

He caught her arm in an iron grip. “I don’t think so. You recognized me from across the room. I could see it on your face.”

“Let go of my arm,” she seethed. His fingers were digging into her flesh.

He did as she commanded, holding up his hands. His face was a deep purple, his accusing gaze riveted on her. “You destroyed my family. Took my mother from me. I’ll never forget it.”

Margot stepped up to them. “What’s going on?” she asked, as she looked between Luna and Spencer.

Luna could feel her face burning in sharp contrast to the icy fear twisting around her heart. She forced a smile through clenched teeth. “Let’s go.” She started walking fast, hoping Margot would follow. Thankfully, she did.

“See ya around, Luna,” Spencer said in a loud, mocking tone.

“What was that all about?” Margot asked when they got out of the bistro. “Why did he call you Luna?”

“I have no idea,” Luna retorted, hoping she sounded adequately outraged. “He must have mistaken me for someone else.” Horror streaked through her. Margot had heard her real name. Would she put two and two together?

“That was weird,” Margot said, looking back over her shoulder.

“Yes, it was.” Apprehension clawed at Luna’s gut. Of all the bistros in all the world, why did she have to cross paths with Spencer Wellington? He hated Luna’s guts. Was Spencer just passing through, or did he live here? She wished that she’d been able to guard her expression better. She’d been so shocked to see Spencer, and it had broadcasted over Luna’s face. He was a stark reminder of the biggest faux pas in Luna’s life. She hadn’t meant to fall for a married man. And, when she realized that he was married, she’d broken it off. Still, the guilt ate away at her, especially considering what happened afterwards. The irony was that Luna would have never so much as given Douglas a second look had she realized he was married. She, of all people, knew the pain that resulted from infidelity. Luna hated that she’d inadvertently contributed to another person’s pain.

She pushed aside the despondent thoughts. She couldn’t keep punishing herself for something that was beyond her control. She was sixteen years old. Douglas had preyed on her. Her head knew this, but her heart still hurt. Chances were, she wouldn’t run into