“Well, I’d say you hid it well,” Elena replies, but then the straight face she’s holding melts, and she and Luna laugh loudly together, leaving the rest of us looking on in confusion.

  “Instead of playing nice, could we talk about something actually important?” Claire frowns at Elena, and I can feel the pendulum of doom swinging over my chest.

  “Claire!” Elena snaps sharply. “Could you at least pretend to have a sliver of a heart in that hollow void you call a chest? This isn’t the kind of thing you dump on someone without a warning. You gotta warm up to it a bit. And I still think you must be mistaken.”

  “I’m not,” Claire insists.

  “Uh, not to interrupt, but is everything okay?” I ask.

  Claire’s frown intensifies and though Elena shakes her head, she waves a hand of permission. “Get on with it, then. Your funeral.”

  “Right. Well, then . . .” Claire turns her attention to Luna, and I can feel her shrink back into the couch at the unmitigated focus being directed at her.

  My protective instincts kick in again, though I’m not sure what’s happening. I lean forward, blocking Claire’s view. “What’s going on?”

  “I went to dinner with a friend recently. At a cute place in Bridgeport.” She says it as though that should mean something. When I don’t react, she continues, “You’ll never guess who I saw.”

  Mads shifts uncomfortably beside Claire, but she doesn’t seem to notice or care.

  “Can you guess, Luna?” she asks, a smirk on her lips.

  “Someone famous?” Luna guesses. I can feel her peeking around me to answer, so I relax back on the couch, letting her handle this herself. Whatever this is.

  Claire laughs. “No, definitely not. Though you’ll probably wish I had. But no, I saw . . . you.”

  “Me?” Luna squeaks.

  “With another man.” Claire locks eyes on me, hungry for my reaction to finding out my wife was with another man. “She kissed him.”

  She enunciates it, wanting to make sure there’s no room for misunderstanding. Luna barks out a laugh of shock, but fury shoots through me. Not at the idea of Luna kissing another man because I trust Luna, but at Claire taking some kind of sick, twisted pleasure in thinking she’s going to hurt me and Luna.

  “Did this dinner happen to be at Capitol Chophouse?” I guess, narrowing my eyes to gauge Claire’s reaction now. A little turnabout is fair play, I think.

  “Yes, it’s quite nice there. The sort of place you take someone when you want to impress them. Like a date, maybe?” Claire’s suggestion shows that she’s given this lots of thought, considering all the different reasons Luna might be having a nice dinner out with someone.

  “Oh! I went to Capitol Chophouse with—” Luna starts to explain, but I place my hand on her knee, squeezing hard, and she stops instantly, though she looks at me questioningly.

  I look back at Luna gently, trying to tell her to stay with me here, and then turn an angry glare to Claire. Clenching my jaw, I grit out, “Can you tell me what you saw? Exactly.”

  “Oh, honey. Don’t you worry,” Elena tries to soothe me, misjudging the target of my anger. Or maybe she’s trying to protect her niece, I’m not sure which.

  “Of course I can.” Claire’s delight is obvious, glee filling her eyes and voice. “There I was, minding my own business, when I saw sweet, innocent Luna with another man. He was older than her—guess she has a type, huh? With brown hair and black glasses. Ring any bells?” she asks. When I stay silent, she continues, giving more details. “They were talking very close, almost intimately, I’d say. And then your wife leaned in even closer and kissed the guy on the cheek, sort of lingering there like she wanted more.”

  She makes it sound salacious, like Luna and this guy were making out at the table, but I seriously doubt that.

  “Blech.” Luna makes a retching noise beside me. “That’s disgusting.”

  Her outburst interrupts Claire’s gloating storytelling, and Claire looks from me to Luna in confusion. I chuckle, and after a pat of Luna’s thigh, I pull out my phone and find a picture of Zack and me on a recent night out. I turn the phone around so Claire can see the picture. “This the guy?” When Claire nods eagerly, I laugh a little harder. “This is Zack, my best friend.”

  “Oh, that’s awful,” she says, seemingly sympathetic as she shakes her head, but the glint of pleasure in her eyes belies that. “It’s always with the best friend, isn’t it?”

  “Enough,” Luna says firmly, standing up and waving her hands to stop Claire. “Zack is Carter’s best friend . . . and my brother!”

  Elena laughs first, hooting and guffawing loudly. “Claire! I told you there had to be a reasonable explanation for it, but no . . . you didn’t believe me. I believe you told me I was getting to be a bit gullible in my old age? Now, who’s looking like a fool?”

  But Luna’s channeling her inner Alphena, and she’s in full-blown fiery mode. “You really thought I was cheating on Carter? What kind of mean sicko takes pleasure in telling someone that? You weren’t doing this for him,” Luna charges, pointing at me. And then she turns her finger at Claire accusingly. “You were doing it for you. Did you see me kiss Zack’s cheek and then scurry off like a dog with a bone? You must’ve, because if you’d waited one measly second longer, you would’ve seen Carter come back from the bathroom and sit down with us for dinner.”

  Claire’s mouth is opening and closing in shock. Mads looks majorly uncomfortable just sitting next to her, or maybe at the idea that he might have to defend his despicable wife. Elena is grinning wide at seeing Claire put in place. Jacob is still staring at his game despite all the madness. And I’m in awe . . . of Luna.

  When she’s quiet and shy, and when she’s loud and commanding, Luna is gorgeous. And so damn strong. She’s amazing.

  “I just thought . . .” Claire stammers. “I mean, the two of you aren’t exactly . . .”

  “Aren’t what?” Luna prompts with her hands on her hips.

  Claire straightens her back, remembering that she’s not someone to be messed with either, and stands to argue eye to eye with Luna. “Look, the two of you are an odd pairing. You must be ten years younger than Carter, and what in the world do you talk about?” She scoffs, then smiles ferally. “Maybe that’s the attraction? You’re nothing more than a young, stupid girl he can manipulate?” She taps her nose as though she’s got us all figured out. “Guess your mouth must be good for something because he’s sure not with you for your looks.”

  “Claire!” Elena shouts.

  “What? You know it’s true,” Claire huffs, not swayed at the reprimand. “There’s no way you’re actually considering working with these people.”

  “I don’t care if you do think it’s true, you don’t say it. Carter and Luna have been nothing but kind, and their relationship is none of your business. Lord knows, I stay out of yours and Mads’s, biting my tongue when you’re mean as a honey badger to that sweet man.” She leans to the right, speaking only to Mads, “No offense. And certainly no judgment from me if you like that.”

  For someone who’s promoting keeping their mouth shut, Elena most definitely is not.

  Mads shrugs, telling Elena, “None taken. And no, I don’t enjoy it when she goes all bitchy.”

  “Madison!” Claire shouts, whirling to scowl at him angrily. “I am not mean to you. Tell her. And don’t you dare call me a bitch!”

  For his part, Mads looks at his wife incredulously. “Call. Me. Mads. And do you hear yourself? Yes, you are mean sometimes. And bitchy sometimes. I keep wishing the not-mean times will outweigh the others, but then you go and pull a stunt like this? I just can’t with you, Claire.”

  She seems shocked that he dared to speak back to her at all, and I wonder if maybe it’s the first time he’s ever done it.

  “I think you owe Luna and Carter an apology,” Elena tells Claire. “Especially Luna.”

  Claire’s lips pucker, as if the idea of an apology is a bitter pill to swallow. But in the end, she appeases her aunt. “Sorry.” Quieter, and directed at Mads, she murmurs, “You can’t blame me for assuming the worst, though. I mean, seriously?” Her eyes flick toward Luna and me.

  I note that she doesn’t apologize for anything specific, despite there being several things she should be apologizing for. I’m not ready to let this go, feeling like I need to come to Luna’s defense in so many ways. Just because Claire doesn’t see how amazing Luna is doesn’t make her any less so. She’s so much more than a young, stupid girl, and I want everyone to know that.

  Because I was one of those people who overlooked her too, but now . . . I see her. I’m about to say something when Luna does.

  “Apology accepted,” Luna says, sitting back down at my side.

  It’s not enough, not from Claire and not from me, but I can feel the tension in Luna and that takes priority over what some bitch like Claire thinks. If Luna wants to drop this, I will . . . for her.

  It feels like we just dodged hundreds of landmines and we haven’t even sat down to dinner yet. I never did eat that sandwich, and Luna’s right, I’m starving after such a big adrenaline dump and having to forcefully bite my tongue.

  “I’m so sorry about all this,” Elena adds, though she had nothing to do with it. “Y’all are just cute as peach pie together, so don’t listen to Claire a lick.”

  “It’s fine,” I answer. It’s not, not at all. But it’s also not worth blowing up this deal over, especially now that it’s semi-handled and I know that Claire is a snake in the grass, waiting to strike. I’ll be on high alert with her from now on.

  Luna makes a humming noise, and I realize she’s clenching and unclenching her hands. “You okay?” I ask, rubbing her back. Her head falls, her eyes locked on her hands, and a bad feeling sweeps through my gut. “Luna?”

  She glances up, meeting my eyes. There are tears on the lenses of her glasses and her lip is quivering. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this anymore.”

  “What?” I have half a second of not understanding before Luna drops a bomb of her own.

  “Carter and I aren’t really married. Well, we are now, but we weren’t. Not before.” She’s rambling, which is the only saving grace I can hope for. Maybe nobody understands what she’s saying?

  I grab her knee, squeezing it firmly. “Luna. You don’t have to do this.”

  She shakes her head, effectively shaking off my plea to shut the fuck up.

  Elena is looking at Luna with almost parental concern. “Are you okay, dear?”

  “No, I’m not. Carter wanted . . . it was supposed to be art tutoring. That’s it. And then he proposed. It was a show, all pretend. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I just wanted to help him. And then Thomas’s collection. I couldn’t . . . I wanted to see it. Selfishly needed to. So we came to dinner. I never meant . . . I didn’t want . . . but then it got to . . . here.” She waves her hands around, gesturing to the room at large but really meaning this moment.

  Her rambling is rapid-fire and all over the place, but Elena understands. We all understand because she’s leaving no room for doubt now.

  Luna just confirmed Claire’s assumption that we couldn’t possibly be together for real and more importantly, torpedoing any shot I had at the Cartwright portfolio.

  Dad’s already furious at me, and when he finds out how much worse I let this get, he’s never going to trust me again. At this rate, I’ll be lucky to play second fiddle to Cameron. Maybe they’ll let me set the tables at his fancy chef’s new restaurant?

  I can see my entire career bursting into flames before my very eyes. Every hour of overtime I’ve worked, every sacrifice I’ve made, even everything Luna and I have done . . . it’s all been for nothing. She just annihilated it all.

  “Luna! How could you?” I demand angrily, pushing away from her on the couch. I can’t believe she’s destroying everything like this. We had a deal, a plan, and she’s betraying me worse than I would’ve ever thought possible.

  “I hate lying. Especially when Elena is . . .” She looks to Elena, who seems confused as hell. “So sweet. I’m so sorry. Truly, I am. It got so out of control, so fast.”

  Luna runs from the room, slamming a door shut somewhere in the front hallway.

  I’m fuming, a dark and angry pit in my stomach rising quickly to consume me.

  “I’m sorry . . .” I start, but Claire is ready to pounce and interrupts.

  “Is that true?” she asks.

  True? I don’t know what’s true anymore, but I don’t want to answer Claire’s question. Anything I say can and will be used against me. Not in a court of law, but in the practice of business.

  I stand, straightening my tie until it’s damn near choking me. Or maybe it’s the words that are stuck in my throat? “We might not be the usual couple or have gotten together in a typical way, but Luna and I are married. None of this means I can’t do the job, and I would love to serve as the financial manager for the Cartwright portfolio. I think we could do really good work together, despite any mistakes that I’ve made.”

  I’m trying to save face, putting on a stoic mask even though I know it’s all over. Even as I turn to go, I can feel my plans turning to rubble and my heart turning to stone.

  I follow the sound of Luna’s sobs and in the hall, knock on the bathroom door. “Luna? I think we should go.”

  She sniffles and with a rough voice says, “I called Zack to come get me. He’s on his way to take me home.”

  Home? I’m already going there. Why does she need Zack to give her a ride? And then I realize . . . she means her home . . . her apartment. Not mine.

  I grit my teeth at the fresh gut punch. “Fine.”

  Elena, Claire, and Mads have followed me into the hallway and are listening to our exchange, but I needlessly repeat, “Her brother’s coming to get her. Is that okay?”

  Elena dips her chin, her eyes seeming extra shrewd as she stares back at me. I can’t take any more and stride toward the door.

  “Carter?” Elena says, and I stop, looking over my shoulder. “Sometimes, we end up someplace we never intended and it’s up to us to decide whether we like where we’re at.” She nods as though that’s something deep and meaningful and not a barely coherent fortune cookie saying.

  I definitely didn’t start out planning to deceive Elena like this. It all got so carried away, and I kept thinking I could fix it. I would’ve fixed it . . . eventually. When I was ready, when the deal was done, when it was planned out and made sense. Not like this.

  “Thank you. And again, I’m sorry.”

  Outside, Bernard tries to talk to me about Nutbuster, but I throw up a hand to stop him and climb into my car.

  Peeling out down the road, I can’t help but feel like I’m leaving behind something important.

  Luna.

  I tell my brain, or heart, or dick—whatever’s speaking right now—to shut up. I didn’t leave her. She left me when she told Elena the truth.

  Damn the consequences.

  In some ways . . . it’s admirable. I wish I’d had the guts to do it, but then I wouldn’t have had Luna . . . even for this short period of time.

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-SIX

  LUNA

  I hear the front door slam and jump even though I knew it was coming. Carter left me. I knew he would eventually. I just couldn’t take it anymore—all the lying, being called an ugly cheater, defending myself while Carter sat there silently watching me go ballistic on Claire.

  So many lies. To Elena, to Carter, to myself.

  I thought there was something good happening between us. Maybe a weird start, but something real. I felt it over the last few weeks, especially since the wedding, but it’s all still just a ploy for him. Nothing more than a charade to close a deal.

  I sit on the floor with my knees curled to my chest and sob as I watch my brother’s little dot move toward me on the app we have to track each other. He can’t get here quick enough, and at the same time, he’s going to want some answers, but I don’t want to talk about this with him or anyone else.

  Breathe, Luna. In, 2, 3, 4. Out, 2, 3, 4.

  I don’t know how long I sit there talking myself off the razor edge of anxiety when there’s a gentle knock at the door. “Luna, dear?”

  “I’m sorry,” I say again. I don’t think I can say it enough at this point.

  “Everyone else is gone. It’s just me and you. Why don’t you come out here and let me make you a glass of tea?”

  Elena is being too kind, triggering fresh anxiety to shoot through me. I shake my head, though she can’t see me.

  “You gonna make me bust this door down? I’ll do it if I have to. I can also pick a lock if need be. It’s a good skill to have,” she says conversationally.

  What?

  “How . . . how do you know how to do that?” I ask. It doesn’t matter, but I think that’s probably why she threw that information out there to begin with.

  “Open the door and I’ll tell you while I teach you.”

  A lockpicking lesson? Now? The absurdity of it makes a small smile creep up my lips.

  Almost as if she knows, Elena adds, “These old locks are pretty easy, but I’m not too good with the new-fangled ones. Never had a reason to pick one of those, I guess.”

  “Why did you pick the old ones?” The question escapes without my even planning to speak.

  “Because I’m a nosey old cuss, mostly,” she laughs. “Hated being out of the know about a thing, so I used to break into my daddy’s office and my momma’s bathroom. Oh, and the barn, but that was one of those spinny combination locks. Combination was my parents’ anniversary. Easy as pie.”

  She’s totally distracted me with her story, so I jump a foot when the door swings open. Elena stands there, proud as you please, with a bobby pin in her fingers. “You want that lesson or you want some tea before your brother gets here? Either way, you’re getting up off that floor.”