“Looking for you.” He popped a cheddar block into his mouth. “This is great cheese.”
“I’m glad you approve.” Her voice crackled with fight. “I had nothing to do with it.”
He frowned. “You angry with me for some reason?”
“No.” She didn’t meet his gaze, and immediately started drinking her ginger ale.
He narrowed his eyes. “You know, you’re supposed to be honest with me. Wife.”
“Shh!”
“Tell me, or I’m going to keep using the W-word.”
“Fine. I don’t like your shirt.”
“There’s nothing wrong with my shirt!”
“There is now.”
Her face set in a mutinous line, and he laughed. “Fine, fine. I’ll get out of it. Tonight.” He abruptly stopped laughing. “Now, tell me what’s wrong.”
Sighing, she sagged. “I just don’t feel well.” She looked down at her belly meaningfully. “But I’m going out to mingle. So why don’t you try to do the same?”
Justin watched her leave, but she didn’t fool him. She was upset about something, even if she didn’t want to tell him. Sighing, he rubbed the back of his neck.
“Justin! There you are.”
He pasted on a smile for Ceinlys and gave her a tight hug. “You look good.”
“Always the flatterer. Thank you so much for coming. I wasn’t sure if you could.”
“I can always make time for you,” he said. Even though he couldn’t tell her yet, she was his mother-in-law and Vanessa was fond of her. That meant she was important to him as well.
“The painting arrived today. It’s gorgeous. Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” He didn’t tell her Barron’s new art curator, Catherine Fairchild, had selected the piece. Catherine was engaged to Blaine Davis, who was Salazar’s child by another woman. Justin didn’t think it prudent to mention the fact.
“More than a few guests have been asking to meet you, but if you like, I can arrange things to avoid all the introductions. I know it can be tedious,” Ceinlys said.
“Thanks, but that won’t be necessary.” She could probably maneuver things to ensure he wouldn’t be bothered. She was an exceptional hostess from years of trying to live up to the exacting Pryce standards. But it wasn’t like he could hang out with Vanessa at the party, and he didn’t want to stand around in a corner by himself all evening long.
“Well, then.” Ceinlys looped her arm through his. “Shall we?”
* * *
Peggy Teeter scowled as Stan lit his cigarette in their bedroom. It was technically his bedroom, but she thought of it as “theirs” since she was sleeping there too. “I told you, no smoking in the house.”
“Just one.”
“No.” She glared at him. “I mean it.”
“It’s a stress reliever.”
“We just had sex! If you need more stress relief, go exercise.”
“Why are you so weird about it?”
She pressed her lips together. An associate at a law firm, Stan liked to argue and could negotiate his way out of almost anything. For once she wished she’d never met him, not even to pump him for information. “My mom has lung cancer.”