The Wife He Never Knew

Chapter 7: Finding a New Investor

"No idea who she is. Some rising star out of Hollywood, maybe?"

"She's got more presence than half the actresses in this room."

More and more heads turned toward the woman standing beside Peter.

She commanded the room without trying, a black strapless velvet couture gown fitted to every line of her figure, her hair freshly styled into soft curls and swept up, a black-and-white diamond hairpin catching the light. It was the single most valuable piece from the Piano collection, and no one in the room could look away from it.

Julian caught a glimpse of her from behind and thought she looked familiar, until she turned around.

"Eleanor?"

Cassandra, Brooke, and Whitney all froze at once.

Julian said nothing. But something in his eyes sharpened, brightened.

He'd never once seen her wearing bold red lipstick before. Bold, but not overdone, whether that was the stylist's work or simply Eleanor herself, he couldn't tell.

"Well, I guess Ms. Hale already landed herself a new sugar daddy," Cassandra said quietly. "Here I was, worried about her."

Something cold flickered behind Julian's eyes.

Eleanor's outfit tonight had been borrowed from Peter, a favor she hadn't wanted to need. She hadn't wanted to be here at all, hadn't wanted to watch Julian and Cassandra playing house in public. But since she was already in the room, running now would only look worse.

For a moment, Julian's eyes stayed locked on her. Then, deliberately, he looked away, as if she wasn't even in the room, and turned his attention back to Cassandra like nothing had happened.

On that handsome face, Eleanor saw a warmth and gentleness he'd never once shown her.

Whatever competitive spark she'd felt walking in, hoping to catch his eye, curdled slowly into something closer to defeat.

She excused herself to the restroom to collect herself. She was already planning a divorce, there was no reason to still be keeping score.

By the time she came back out, the pain in her feet had become impossible to ignore.

The heels weren't hers, weren't broken in, and they were tearing her feet apart. She twisted to check her heel and nearly lost her balance entirely, but someone caught her arm just in time.

The word "thanks" was halfway out of her mouth when she looked up and found herself staring directly into Julian's eyes.

That maddening curve at the corner of his mouth. Those eyes, dark as polished stone.

Looking straight into them now, Eleanor felt an unexpected flare of nerves.

She tried to pull her arm free. He didn't let go.

"You don't have to force the jealous act."

His voice was flat, cold, and there was something mocking underneath it that she caught in the last word.

"The whole 'playing hard to get' routine? It's not subtle."

He released her, pressed a bandage into her hand, and walked into the restroom without a backward glance.

She'd wanted to explain herself. He never gave her the chance. After a beat of hesitation, she used the bandage anyway.

The pain in her foot faded. The ache in her chest didn't.

Back in the main hall, still shaken, Eleanor found herself standing frozen in front of the buffet table without registering it.

"Overwhelmed by all these fancy dishes? Not sure what to even try?"

Brooke and Whitney had drifted over.

"Let me walk you through it. This is premium caviar, best with Russian flatbread."

Before Brooke finished, Whitney elbowed her. "Maybe explain what caviar is first, she's probably never even heard of it."

Eleanor wasn't in the mood to engage, but Cassandra cut off her path before she could move.

"Girls, come on, she's not from the Stone Age, she's heard of caviar" Cassandra scooped a spoonful onto a blini and held it out to Eleanor with a saccharine smile. "But this is probably your first time actually trying it. Julian really should've taken you out more."

"Or maybe she just wasn't presentable enough to bring." Brooke smirked. "Remember how Julian used to take Cassandra everywhere? Poor guy got stuck marrying someone with barely a high school diploma."

"Right, one's a PhD who just got back from studying abroad, the other's a housewife. I genuinely don't know how she's not embarrassed to even be standing here."

Surrounded on three sides, Eleanor just smiled, perfectly calm.

"Since you clearly know so much, Cassandra, you do know that's beluga caviar you just scooped, right? It's meant to be eaten on its own, or with champagne. Not on a blini."

Cassandra's smile froze in place.

"Osetra, on the other hand, that pairs beautifully with Russian flatbread."

Eleanor picked up a proper blini as she spoke, laid down a thin, even sheet of smoked salmon, added a spoonful of Osetra and a touch of crème fraîche, and handed it over.

"That's how it's actually done."

Cassandra glanced between the thick, sloppy blini in her own hand and the precise one Eleanor had just made, and her face went faintly green.

"Don't act like you know everything. Who says you're even right?" Whitney stepped in to prop Cassandra back up.

"And even if she is, big deal. Means she's spent more time in a kitchen than the rest of us. Doesn't make her special." Brooke jumped in right behind her.

Eleanor set her finished blini down on a plate, unbothered. "I'm not trying to be special. I'm just a little better at this than you two, apparently."

She turned and walked off. That was the exact moment Julian returned to Cassandra's side.

"What's wrong? You look off. You feeling okay?" He noticed her staring fixedly at the caviar and asked again. She shook her head.

"Want some?" He picked up the plate himself, assembling the blini in the exact same combination Eleanor had just made.

Just then, a guest wandered up, murmuring, "Is there actually a difference between all these types of caviar?"

Cassandra snapped out of it and repeated Eleanor's explanation nearly word for word, earning a look of genuine admiration.

"Impressive, knowing all that at your age."

Cassandra dropped her eyes modestly. "I learned it from my boyfriend."

The guest glanced between her and Julian and couldn't help but add, "You two really are a perfect match. Beautiful couple."

Julian looked at Cassandra, that faint, natural smile deepening slightly. "Could go either way, honestly."

"Well, either way, it's a perfect match. Mr. Cross, you're too generous with the compliments."

Brooke and Whitney piled on with more teasing. Cassandra lowered her eyes, smiling shyly, the picture, to anyone watching, of the happiest woman alive.

Not far off, Eleanor had caught the whole exchange, Cassandra passing off someone else's knowledge as her own, but she had no intention of correcting the record.

Not that it would have mattered. Even if she explained herself, Julian wasn't going to look at her the way he was looking at Cassandra right now.

Something in her twisted. She'd already made her decision, divorce, clean break, no looking back. Even if Julian's attitude toward her changed overnight, she wasn't going back to him.

And yet some part of her refused to just let it go.

Why was she the only one who still remembered what they'd promised each other? The only one still tangled up in it?

Why did three hard-won years of marriage mean less than some golden girl freshly returned from overseas?

Eleanor grabbed a glass of wine off a passing tray and drank it in one go.

The liquor burned all the way down, sharp and scalding, and it was enough to snap her fully back into focus.

She looked down at the empty glass in her hand, and noticed something.