“Yes.”
“May second.
He said he had dinner with a client until midnight.”
Tessa’s voice was quieter.
“With me.”
“June ninth.”
Julian finally snapped.
“Enough.”
I locked the phone.
“I agree.”
That seemed to confuse him.
He had expected interrogation.
Fury.
Perhaps begging.
Instead I put the phone into my bag.
“I already know enough.”
Tessa folded her arms across herself now, no longer posing for cameras.
“What did he tell you about me?” she asked.
I looked at her.
“Almost nothing.”
That answer seemed to wound her.
“He said I was part of his future.”
“I’m sure he did.”
“He said after tonight everything would change.”
“It has.”
Julian muttered my name like a warning.
Before I could answer, a woman wearing an event headset hurried through the crowd.
She was one of the Harrington organizers I had seen earlier checking microphones and seating cards.
She spoke quietly to Julian.
“We need you off the main floor for a moment.”
His posture stiffened.
“My speech starts shortly.”
“I know.”
“I’m the keynote.”
“I know.”
The woman’s voice remained professionally calm.
“But we cannot put you onstage while this is unfolding in front of the press wall.”
For Julian, that was the first consequence he could not rephrase.
His entire evening had been built around walking onto that stage under applause.
Now the event staff were asking him to disappear through a service corridor.
He looked at me as though I had caused it.
“You wanted this.”
“No,” I said.
“I wanted the truth before your speech.
You’re the one who supplied the truth.”
Tessa looked down at the floor.
The wine glass was still in her hand.
She suddenly seemed to notice it and placed it on a waiter’s tray as if it had become evidence.
The organizer repeated, “Mr.
West.”
Julian did not move.
His eyes went from the cameras to Tessa to me.
“Evelyn, tell them this is a private marital matter.”
That request was so astonishing that for a moment I said nothing.
He wanted me to rescue the privacy he had denied me.
Tessa stared at him too.
