Chương 2
“I can hold a tray.”
“I’m sure you can.”
A few people shifted uncomfortably.
The exchange was becoming too intimate in a way Elena could not control.
Adrian lowered his hand.
That, more than anything, unsettled her.
The Adrian she remembered had not been famous for retreat.
Madison came toward them, gathering the front of her lace gown enough to avoid catching it on a chair.
“What is this?”
She looked at Adrian first, not Elena.
“Do you know her?”
Adrian kept his eyes on Elena.
“Yes.”
Elena said, “Not anymore.”
His gaze flickered.
Madison noticed.
The bride’s posture changed almost imperceptibly.
“How?”
Elena swallowed.
“Madison, this is your wedding.”
“I’m aware.”
“Then enjoy it.”
“That’s what I was doing.”
The cruelty in the answer was mild enough to be deniable.
Elena recognized the technique.
She had grown up with three aunts who could wound a person while passing the potatoes.
Adrian turned toward Madison.
“What was that supposed to be?”
“What?”
“What you said to her.”
Madison blinked.
“It was a joke.”
“Explain it.”
“Oh, don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Make me explain a joke like I committed a crime.”
A man at the bridal table suddenly became fascinated by his napkin.
Madison folded her arms.
“I told her to sit beside you because you’ve spent the entire reception looking like you’re attending a deposition.”
“That’s not why people laughed.”
Madison’s face tightened.
Elena could see humiliation replacing confusion.
This was getting worse, and Elena had enough experience with wealthy people to know that public embarrassment rarely disappeared.
It simply searched for someone with less power to land on.
She turned toward Mr. Kim.
“I need to take these back.”
Adrian moved half a step into her path, then caught himself.
He stopped without blocking her.
“Elena, wait.”
“No.”
“Five minutes.”
“I’m working.”
“I can see that.”
“Apparently it’s shocking.”
His face changed.
She had hit something.
Good, she thought.
Then she hated herself for being glad.
“Elena,” he said more quietly, “I didn’t mean it that way.”
“You asked why I’m serving champagne like I was supposed to be doing something else.”
“You were.”
The answer came too quickly.
Her spine stiffened.
“There it is.”
“I meant—”
“I know what you meant.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Adrian.”
She looked directly at him now.
“You haven’t seen me in eleven years.”
His eyes narrowed slightly.
“Eleven years and four months.”
The room seemed to contract.
Elena hated that he knew.
She hated more that she knew too.
Madison stared at him.
“Four months?”
Adrian ignored her.
Elena could not.
The bride’s expression had become guarded, and Elena finally understood something she should have understood sooner.
Whatever Adrian was to Madison, he mattered here.
He mattered enough that his recognition of a banquet server could destabilize the room.
Elena glanced at the bridal table, then at the seating cards, then back at Madison.
The surname printed in silver script on the card nearest the bride read Moretti.
Her stomach dropped.
She looked at Adrian.
“No.”
He knew exactly what she had understood.
“It isn’t what you think.”
“Whose wedding is this?”
Madison’s voice sharpened.
“Mine.”
Elena kept staring at Adrian.
“Whose?”
“My brother’s.”
Only then did Elena notice the groom standing near the windows, speaking in a low voice to an older woman.
He had Adrian’s eyes.
Not his size, not his beard, not the dangerous stillness, but the eyes were unmistakable.
Elena looked back at the bride.
Madison’s cheeks had gone pale beneath her makeup.
The joke no longer seemed important.
Something else did.
Madison knew the name Ramirez.
Elena saw it in the way the bride avoided looking at her for one second too long.
Adrian saw it too.
His attention shifted from Elena to Madison.
“You know her.”
Madison gave a short laugh.
“Obviously not.”
“That wasn’t a question.”
“Then don’t phrase accusations like questions.”
Elena’s pulse began to pound.
She lowered the tray onto the nearest empty table before she dropped it.
The bases of the champagne flutes touched the silver with uneven little taps.
“What does she know?”
Madison looked at her.
“Excuse me?”
“My name.”
“I heard you say it.”
“Before that.”
“I didn’t know your name before that.”
Elena studied her face.
Madison was good at lying.
Not perfect.
Good.
Adrian stepped closer to his future sister-in-law.
“Madison.”
“Stop.”
“What did you know?”
“Nothing.”
“Then why did you send her to me?”
“I told you, it was a joke.”
“Why her?”
Madison opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
The silence reached the bridal table.
The groom finally noticed.
He excused himself from the older woman and began walking toward them.
Madison saw him coming and fear flashed across her face so quickly Elena almost doubted it.
Almost.
“Adrian,” Madison said under her breath, “not here.”
His expression hardened.
“You just answered me.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“You knew.”
“I knew she was staff.”
“You knew more than that.”
The groom reached them.
“What the hell is going on?”
Madison touched his arm immediately.
“Nothing.”
Adrian looked at his brother.
“Vincent, do you know Elena Ramirez?”
Vincent’s face emptied.
It happened so completely that Elena felt cold before he said a word.
Vincent looked at her as though she had entered the room carrying something far more dangerous than champagne.
Then his gaze dropped to the tray.
One flute still trembled from where Elena had set it down.
“Elena Ramirez,” he repeated.
Adrian turned slowly toward his brother.
Elena could hear her own breathing.
Vincent looked at Madison.
The bride did not look back.
That was the second answer.
The third came when Vincent whispered, “You said she wouldn’t be here.”
Vincent’s words seemed to remain suspended between them long after his mouth closed.
Madison’s hand slipped from his arm.
Adrian did not move.
Elena looked from one brother to the other and felt the ballroom tilt beneath the soles of her black work shoes.
May you like
“What does that mean?” she asked.
Vincent rubbed a hand over his mouth.
