exhaling off to the side so the smoke didn’t get in her face.
“What,” she snapped. “I hate when you look at me like that. Just say it, whatever it is.”
He took his damn sweet time, and when he finally spoke, his voice seemed falsely level. “Gin, you’re not in as desperate a situation as you think. This financial stuff—it’ll work itself out. People will keep buying that bourbon, and your family will rebound. Don’t do anything stupid.”
“Richard can afford me.” She shrugged. “And that makes him valuable whether my family has money or not.”
Samuel T. shook his head like the thing hurt. “At least you’re not even trying to pretend you love him.”
“Marriages have been built on far less. In fact, there is a grand tradition of marrying well in my family. And not to doctors … or lawyers. To real money.”
“I should have known that was coming.” With a curse, he smiled coldly. “And you never disappoint me. Have fun with your man, especially when you’re lying back and thinking of England. Or is it Bergdorf’s?”
She lifted her chin. “He treats me beautifully, you know.”
“You’ve clearly picked a winner.” He muttered something under his breath. “Well, I’ll leave you to it. My condolences on the loss of your father.”
“It was no loss.”
“Just like your scruples, right?”
“Be careful, Samuel T. Your bitchiness suggests a hidden weakness. Are you sure you’re not jealous of a man you consider beneath you?”
“No, I feel sorry for him. It’s the biggest curse in a man’s life that he loves a woman like you. That sad sack has no idea what he’s in for.”
As he turned away, a rush of emotion hit her. “Samuel.”
He pivoted back around slowly. “Yes.”
If only you hadn’t said no, she thought. If only you were the one I could turn to.
“Don’t go back through the house with that cigar. My mother’s downstairs, and she doesn’t abide them indoors.”
Samuel T. glanced at the smoldering length. “Right. Of course.”
And then … he was gone.
For some reason, Gin’s legs started to shake and she barely made it to one of the Brown Jordan recliners that were lined up down the long sides of the pool. As she all but fell into the chair, she had to peel off her jacket again.
When she couldn’t breathe, she took off the goddamn scarf. Underneath, her neck was sore, particularly on the right side where the worst of the bruising was.
Yoga breaths … three part … just … she needed to take a deep breath …
“Gin?”
She looked up at Lane’s girlfriend—fiancée … whatever. “Yes,” she said roughly.
“Are you okay?”
“Of course I am,” she snapped. But then she couldn’t keep up the anger. “I am … just fine.”
“All right. But listen, bad weather’s coming.”
“Is it?” God, she felt as though she had fallen into the pool and was drowning. “I thought it was sunny … or something.”
“I’m going to go get you some water. Stay right there.”
Gin was of half a mind to argue, but her tongue felt like it had swollen in her mouth and then her head started to spin in earnest.
When Lizzie came back, it was with a long/tall of lemonade. “Drink this.”
Gin put her hand out, but it was shaking so badly, there was no hope of holding anything.
“Here … let me.”
Lizzie brought the glass to Gin’s lip, and Gin took a sip. And then another. And then a third.
“Don’t worry,” Lane’s fiancée said. “I’m not going to ask.”
“Thank you,” Gin mumbled. “I greatly appreciate that.”
THIRTY-TWO
Edward could have spent the rest of the visitation just watching Sutton and his mother sit together on that silk sofa. Contrary to Lane’s chilly relationship with the woman who had birthed them, Edward entertained little bitterness to their dam—mostly because, having worked so closely with their father, he had a healthy respect for all Little V. E. had been forced to endure.
Why wouldn’t one find relief at the bottom of a pill bottle?
Especially if you’d been cheated on, ridiculed, and relegated to all but a Tiffany vase in your own home.
And now it appeared as though his sister, Gin, was falling into the same trap with Pford.
Sutton, on the other hand … Sutton would never do something like that, never conscribe herself to a marriage of convenience just so she could live a given lifestyle. In fact, she didn’t need a man to define her at all. No, her life plan? She was going to run a multi-national corporation like a boss—
As if she knew he was thinking