“This is Fiona. I don’t think you met her last weekend. She works at Selber’s at the makeup counter. This is Ellery’s mom.” Rachel looked at Ellery, her face reflecting confusion at Ellery ignoring her.
“Rachel, are you having the wedding-cake martini?” Ellery said, not bothering to acknowledge Daphne. Her slight was as plain as the font on the menu.
A worm of ire coiled round Daphne’s wounded heart. “Yes, you should all have that one. It was delicious. Well, I should get back to my date. Just wanted to say hello. Nice to meet you, Fiona. Have fun!”
Daphne hadn’t had a martini, but they didn’t have to know that.
“I’m sure he’ll be the one having fun later. Or is he too old for you?” Ellery looked up at her with cold blue eyes.
Any other time, Daphne would have shattered at the one person she adored treating her with such disdain, but anger at her daughter overshadowed the pain. Daphne looked over her shoulder at the handsome man waiting apprehensively near the exit. “Oh no. I like them all ages, and that one will do nicely. I guess I should thank you, darling, for doing all the legwork for me.”
Then she spun on the heel of her boot and walked away as calmly as she could manage. Beneath her frozen facade was a tumultuous tsunami of emotion, but she wasn’t letting anyone in that restaurant know, especially not Ellery.
“You’re welcome, whore,” Ellery called.
A clattering of forks, a clink of glasses, the hum of low conversation all faded to silence. This time it was as if an arrow had thumped into her back, skewering her, making her steps almost falter. But she didn’t acknowledge the insult hurled at her. No. Daphne refused to give her daughter the satisfaction. She kept walking because if she could just reach the man standing near the foyer with a befuddled and irritated look on his face, she would be okay. Just ten steps. Eight. Five. Two.
“Is everything okay, madam?” the maître d’ asked, stepping in front of her, glancing over her shoulder to where Ellery sat with her friends.
“Everything’s fine, but I think my daughter has had too much to drink. You probably shouldn’t serve her any more alcohol.” She looked at Evan, begging herself not to crack. “Shall we?”
His expression was dark, his gaze unfathomable, but he took her elbow once again, tucked her in close, and grabbed a mint. “Let’s roll.”
When they stepped outside, Daphne started to tremble. “I’m so sorry I caused a scene. I shouldn’t have gone over there.” At those words, her teeth began to chatter.
Evan pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. The pimply valet drivers darted around them like planes circling a landing field. She pressed her cheek to his jacket and tried not to cry. A single tear escaped, a rebellious droplet determined to betray her mask of control.
“It’s okay, Daphne. She had no right to say that.”
Evan couldn’t know that Daphne had slept with Ellery’s ex-boyfriend or that her daughter had caught her with Clay, shirt half-unbuttoned and lips swollen from his kisses. Daphne giving in to her insecurities (and renewed sex drive) had created a huge fracture across the bridge of ice she and Ellery had skated on for the past few months. Or maybe that bridge was missing pieces. Perhaps it was completely gone.
Her daughter had just called her a whore in the middle of a restaurant.
That bridge was definitely gone.
“Thank you,” she whispered against a cashmere scarf that smelled like English Leather. She knew it wasn’t English Leather because what man under the age of fifty wore English Leather, but it was similar to what her grandfather had worn—familiar, warm, but not exactly grandfatherly.
Evan released her and handed the claim ticket to one of the valets buzzing around them. “Let’s get out of here.”
Daphne had never agreed with a suggestion more.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Dear Evan,
By this time I’m sure you know that I am not the creator of Dixie Doodle and am instead the assistant who answers fan mail. I have no good reason for doing what I did other than I liked you, and your emails gave me something to look forward to at the end of each day. My life hasn’t been going according to plan, and it was sheer selfishness and weakness that made me do what I did. You made me feel normal at a time