Page 97 of Wright Together

“You can’t do this.”

“But I can,” Jensen said smoothly. “He gave you a chance, Arnold.”

“Jensen, you don’t even know what happened!”

“I trust Whitt implicitly,” Jensen said.

“You’re going to lose my campaign donation!”

Jensen smiled, ever the politician. “I think I can do without it.”

Then, the security guards intervened and escorted Arnold out of the room.

27

Whitton

Eve was shaking.

“Hey,” I whispered, shielding her from the prying eyes and ears of the crowd. “Let’s get you some fresh air.”

“I’m fine,” she lied.

“Eve, come on. It’s me.”

She looked up at me with her otherworldly green eyes. She thought that she could hide her pain from me. But I’d spent the last couple of months learning every single expression on her face. I’d memorized her joy and fear and pain. Mapped out the way her lips twitched when I did something she hadn’t expected. The wrinkle of her nose at my taste in music. And the haunting look that came into her eye when discussing her sister. I could see it all right now.

“I’m fine,” she repeated.

“Well, I’m not.”

Her eyes widened. “You’re not?”

I shook my head. “I can’t stay in here another second, knowing he hurt you.”

She softened. She couldn’t let her guard down after what happened, but she could do it for me. “Okay,” she whispered.

I wrapped an arm around her waist, and we exited the ballroom. The noise dissipated as we stepped out into the cool evening air. I drew her into the alcove that led to the outdoor pool area, which was currently empty. She sighed and sank onto a cushioned pool chair.

“He made a fool of me,” she said into her hands.

“He made a fool of himself and no one else.”

She laughed disdainfully. “He called me a gold-digging slut in front of everyone.”

“Something that no one else believes.”

She shrugged. “You don’t know that.”

“The people who matter don’t think that. We know you.”

“And everyone else?”

“Since when do you care what everyone else thinks?”

She looked away from me. The reflection of the pool highlighting her features. “I don’t.”

The words were warbled, as if she didn’t quite believe them herself.