She Divorced The Wrong Man

Chapter 6

Claire heard it from the people standing near the door. Two women whispered it behind their glasses, and then a man said it out loud to his friend, as if he couldn't believe it either. That was Olivia Grant, the senior director of Sterling Crown Bank.

Claire felt something heavy settle in her chest. She had asked for the divorce only a few hours ago, and already Ethan was walking in with a woman everyone in the room knew by name. She told herself it didn't matter, but she couldn't shake the feeling.

She looked at Olivia's back, then at the way Ethan walked beside her, calm and easy, like he'd been going to dinners like this his whole life. That wasn't how she remembered him at all.

The ballroom was huge. Crystal lights hung from the ceiling, round tables were set with white cloths and gold plates, and a small band was playing near the stage. At the far end stood a long table with a velvet cloth over it, where the auction items would be shown later.

The moment Preston stepped inside, people started drifting toward him. A heavy man in a gray suit got to him first, shaking his hand with both of his. Two more followed behind him, then a woman in a green dress, then a few others who had been waiting for a chance.

"Mr. Whitaker, so good to see you," the heavy man said. "I was telling my wife just yesterday that your family has been doing wonders for this city."

"You flatter me," Preston said, although he didn't look like he minded.

"And Miss Bennett, you look wonderful tonight." The woman in the green dress smiled at Claire. "The two of you make such a lovely pair. Everyone says so, a better match couldn't be found."

"Oh, we're not..." Claire started.

"They really are," the heavy man cut in, laughing. "Young, smart, both going places. My daughter says your clothing line is all she wears."

Claire gave a polite smile and let it go. It wasn't worth arguing with a crowd. But Preston put a hand lightly on her back again, and he sat a little taller, and a proud look came over his face.

"We try our best," he said.

Ethan and Olivia stood off to one side. Nobody came over to talk to them. A few guests looked at Ethan in his plain black suit, then looked away, like he wasn't worth the effort.

Then the heavy man leaned in toward Preston and lowered his voice, though not by much.

"Mr. Whitaker, have you heard about tonight's auction? They say Mr. Mercer is putting up something special this year."

"Harold Mercer?" Preston said. "The host?"

Harold Mercer was the head of the biggest business association in the city, and this dinner was his event every year. Every deal in town seemed to pass through his hands at some point.

"The very same. It's an old ring from his private collection." The man made it sound like a secret. "Very rare, I'm told. Some kind of antique nobody has seen in years. The starting price is already out of this world, and it'll go higher. Honestly, I don't think anyone here but you could afford it."

Murmurs went around the little crowd. A few people nodded, and the woman in green said she'd heard the same thing.

Preston's smile widened. He turned and looked across the room as if he were already measuring it.

"Then I suppose I'll have to bid," he said. "Let's say that ring is as good as mine."

There was polite laughter and a few claps. Someone said, "Of course, of course," and somebody else raised a glass.

On the other side of the room, Olivia let out a short laugh through her nose.

It was soft, but it carried. Preston's head turned.

"Something funny, Ms. Grant?"

"Nothing," Olivia said. She tilted her head and gave him a thin smile. "I was only thinking that you sound very sure of yourself, Mr. Whitaker. For a man who thinks he's the biggest buyer in the room."

"I don't think so, it's true." Preston's smile got tighter.

"Is that so?" Olivia glanced up at Ethan beside her and tightened her hold on his arm. "If this gentleman wanted to, he could buy the whole auction house. And the building it sits in."

The room went still for one second.

Then people started laughing. It began with the woman in green and spread outward until half the nearby tables were looking over. A man at the next table slapped his knee.

"The whole auction house," someone repeated. "Did you hear that?"

"Who is this guy?"

"That's the ex-husband," the heavy man said, loud enough for everyone to hear. "Miss Bennett's husband, or he was. She dumped him this afternoon, he worked at a car wash."

More laughter. Claire's face went hot, and she looked at the floor.

"A car wash?" the woman in green said. "And Ms. Grant is on his arm? What kind of tricks did he use to get a woman like that to stand up for him?"

"Maybe he's good at something, he probably has something big down there.” A man said, and a few people snickered.

Olivia's eyes went cold. She opened her mouth, but Ethan touched her hand lightly and she stopped.

He didn't look at the crowd. He didn't look angry or embarrassed either. He was looking at the long table at the end of the hall, with the velvet cloth over it, as if nothing else in the room mattered.

All the flattery and fake smiles around him were noise. He'd stood in the middle of it for five minutes, and none of it had touched him. There was only one thing in this ballroom he had come for.

"Don't worry about it," he told Olivia quietly. Then he raised his voice just enough to be heard. "I'm not interested in buying the whole auction."

The laughter dipped as people turned to hear him.

"But that ring," Ethan said. "That one is mine."