Chapter Five: The Wife He Might Lose

Alexander was sitting at the kitchen table when I came downstairs the next morning. A thick folder lay in front of him, its contents looking suspiciously familiar.

"Sit down," he said. "I want to show you something."

I poured myself a cup of coffee before taking the seat opposite him.

"My financial team reviewed your business plan," he explained. "I asked them to look into it. They believe it has potential, so we're prepared to invest two million dollars. My lawyers will handle the contracts, and you can focus on the designs."

I opened the folder and read through the proposal by the fourth page, I understood exactly what he was offering.

"Sixty percent?" I asked, looking up.

"It's standard."

"Perhaps for you." I turned back to the document. "Monthly reports to your office, your team's approval for orders over fifty thousand dollars, and a board member of your choosing. This isn't an investment, Alexander. You're putting yourself in control of my company."

His fingers stopped tapping against the table.

"I'm trying to help you, Vivian."

"I know, and I appreciate the thought." I closed the folder and pushed it toward him. "But I don't want your money or your control. If you want to help, introduce me to people who can give my business a chance. That's all."

"Without my investment, it'll take years to build this company."

"Then it'll take years."

He stared at me, a muscle twitching in his cheek. "Harlan Reeves is a buyer for Marlowe and Pierce. He'll be at the Ashford dinner on Saturday. I'll introduce you."

"An introduction. Nothing more."

He picked up the folder and stood. "An introduction." Then he walked away, leaving his coffee untouched.

*****

The Ashford dinner was held in a hotel ballroom decorated with white flowers and elegant table settings. I wore a dark green dress Natalie had chosen from my wardrobe, while Alexander wore a black suit.

We'd barely entered the room when I noticed people looking at us. The rumors about our marriage were probably already circulating, and our appearance together had done little to settle them.

Four minutes later, Catherine approached us in a cream dress, her hair pinned back with a gold clip. "There you are," she said to Alexander, placing a hand on his sleeve. "I've saved you a seat at my table."

"Catherine." He nodded before glancing at me. "You know Vivian."

"Of course." She turned to me with a polite smile. "Vivian. I almost didn't see you."

I greeted her, but she had already turned back to Alexander.

A moment later, she reached up to adjust his cufflink, even though there was nothing wrong with it. He stood still and let her, making no effort to move away.

I took a glass of water from a passing waiter and looked around the room, refusing to let the sight bother me. Whatever existed between them was no longer my responsibility.

*****

At eight-fifteen, Alexander touched my elbow.

"Reeves has arrived. He's at the bar."

I followed his gaze to a gray-haired man in a navy suit who was talking to a woman beside the drinks table.

"Wait here," Alexander said. "I'll bring him over."

"Alex."

Catherine appeared beside him again, speaking in a low voice. "The Whitmores need you, they're reconsidering their pledge to the foundation, and we need to settle it before the evening ends."

Alexander looked at me.

"Five minutes," he promised before leaving with her.

I watched them cross the ballroom and approach a table in the corner, where an older couple stood to greet them. Catherine took the seat beside Alexander and rested her hand on his arm while the man explained something.

Five minutes passed then fifteen. By eight-forty-five, Alexander was leaning toward Catherine to hear her over the music.

At nine, Harlan Reeves picked up his coat from the stand beside the bar. I set down my glass and headed toward him.

"Mr. Reeves?"

He turned, looking mildly surprised.

"I'm Vivian Blackwood. I'm developing a fashion brand, and I'd appreciate a moment of your time."

"Your husband mentioned you would come over earlier."

"He did."

I let the words settle before continuing.

"I've put together a small sample line, and I'd love the opportunity to show it to you. Do you have two minutes?"

He agreed to four.

I explained the fabrics I'd chosen, the designs I was developing, and the price range I was targeting. He asked two questions. I answered one confidently and admitted I still needed to confirm the other.

He took my business card.

"Send three samples to my office. I can't promise anything, but I'll look at them."

"Thank you. That's all I'm asking."

He nodded, put on his coat, and left.

I stood there for a moment, trying to steady my breathing. My legs felt fine, but my hands were trembling slightly.

Still, I'd done it. I'd secured an opportunity without waiting for Alexander to deliver on his promise.

*****

I collected my coat from the attendant near the lobby and slipped my arms into the sleeves.

"Vivian."

I turned to find Alexander approaching, his tie loosened and his face flushed.

"Where are you going? Reeves is still…."

"I spoke to him."

His brow furrowed. "I was coming back for you."

"It took fifty-five minutes."

He opened his mouth, then closed it again, his gaze briefly shifting toward the clock on the wall. "Catherine needed my help. The Whitmores were about to withdraw their pledge, and it was an emergency."

"I understand."

"You’re upset about Catherine." His voice softened, taking on the patient tone he often used when he thought I was being unreasonable. "I've told you she's a friend. You can't keep turning every situation into…."

"This isn't about Catherine."

He stopped. "Then what is it?"

I buttoned my coat before answering.

"I'm tired of standing around waiting for you to remember I'm there. You promised to introduce me to Reeves, then left me alone for nearly an hour. I handled it myself, and I got what I came for."

He stared at me, saying nothing. His hand lifted slightly, as though he wanted to reach for mine, but he let it fall.

"You're making a mistake," he said.

I looked at him. His eyes were dark, and exhaustion had begun to show on his face.

For the first time since waking up in this house, I had no desire to argue with him or prove a point. I just wanted to leave.

"No, Alexander. My mistake was believing you'd ever choose me."

I turned and walked toward the entrance. The doorman opened the door, letting in a rush of cold air. I didn't hear Alexander follow.

Through the glass, I caught one last glimpse of him standing in the lobby. He hadn't moved. One hand remained half-raised, and his lips were slightly parted, as though he'd wanted to call me back but couldn't find the words.

I stepped into a taxi and gave the driver Natalie's address.

This time, I didn't look back