enough to him that he didn’t share it with his fiancée before their wedding. Why not? Alice got that it put him in a vulnerable spot, but how could he commit to marry someone and be her spouse with secrets?
“Right.” He ran his hand down his face. “I tricked her, I guess. That was one of the many things I did wrong, according to her.”
“Why did you stay? If marriage sucked so badly?”
“Because of Cara. I wanted her to have stability. I still do. My father loved me growing up, but having him in and out of my life was painful. I knew if I divorced Kristin, I wouldn’t be there for her as much as I wanted to be.”
Stability. The word threw a punch to her gut. She was part of the current stability, wasn’t she? He trusted her to take care of Cara while he worked to grow his art empire. That was why he wanted her to move with him, so that there wouldn’t be more changes for Cara—on top of the different school and friends. Her heart squeezed for the little girl. She would miss her. Nevertheless, she couldn’t go with them, not when her responsibilities at home were much greater than the little he offered, emotionally at least. “If someone really loves you, they won’t care.”
He ran his hand down her cheek, and a shiver went through her. “I was wrong when I said Bad Alice was my favorite. Good Alice…that’s the one I have to watch out for.”
Cutting through the rich, luxurious fabric was like twisting a knife into her heart. Lorenzo had trusted her, albeit under duress, and shared his secret. He had also shown faith that she would do a good job with the dress. He believed in her, didn’t he? Not that it mattered. Her shoulders sagged a notch. Maybe it did.
“Did you get everything you need?” Lorenzo asked, fixing his collar.
“Yes. Rogerio brought me a sewing machine and a box filled with the necessary supplies. I’m set.” The butler had also sent Viola’s assistant to come help her with whatever she needed. But Alice was hopeful once she opened the stitches on the side, it would be a piece of cake.
“Good.” He kissed the top of her head. “I’m off for a chess game in the library. One of Paul Smythe’s brilliant ideas. See you later.”
She locked the door behind him. The urge to text Georgia crept in, and she was reaching for her cell when a knock startled her.
“You forget something?” she said when she opened the door.
“Hey.” Joan flashed her a smile. “May I come in?”
“Sure.” She gestured for the tall, leggy blonde to enter. A cloud of jasmine leaves blended with cinnamon swirled around Joan. Her signature perfume. “I was altering a dress for the party. Sorry, I don’t have much time to chat,” she said. Although Lorenzo didn’t like Joan, she found no reason to avoid her like he probably wanted.
Joan raised an eyebrow. “I understand. I just came to ask you something.”
Alice motioned for her to sit at one of the tufted settees, but Joan remained standing. Maybe this was going to be short. “Sure.”
“For how long have you worked for Lorenzo?”
Blood froze in her veins. Alice stepped back, as if the rug was being swept from under her. Because, judging by the serious contours on Joan’s face, it was. Shit. “Why would you think that?” she asked, managing to sound fifty percent less nervous than she really was.
“So it’s true.” Joan lifted her chin, hands perched at her waist. A triumphant smile formed on her pink lips. “I knew there was something off.”
“What do you mean?”
“You don’t fit the profile a man like him would date. That’s a given. But, not only that, you don’t wear a lot of designer clothes, which means he didn’t have time to buy you things. Besides, I checked with a friend who lives in Austin, and she had never heard of an Alice Sommers dating Lorenzo Baldi. Or of you at all.”
“Wow, your spiel sends me straight to a shrink’s couch,” Alice fired back, squaring her shoulders. Her stomach was knotted, though she would die before admitting to it. “That doesn’t prove anything.”
Joan assessed her from head to toe, as if this was their first meeting. “Maybe not, but the look on your face did. Why are you deceiving Viola? Lorenzo doesn’t need to have a date to be able to buy the paintings.”
Alice, drumming her fingers on