Marrying My Ex's Boss novel · Chapter 10 of 24

Chapter 10: Gala

"You were magnificent," Truman said, Saturday, in the back of the car, without looking at me.

"I lost."

"You asked the only question that mattered while he lied to your face."

"I sat there with my hands on a table, and I have never wanted to throw a chair so badly."

"Term six."

"I know the terms."

The car turned onto the long drive of the museum.

A red carpet ran between two rows of photographers, and he finally looked at me.

"You look like trouble," he said.

Joyce had picked the dress, a deep green silk with no back.

My ring hung on its chain under the neckline, cool against my skin.

"Don't let go of my hand," I said.

"Not for anything."

The Children's Hospital gala filled the great hall under the dinosaur skeletons.

Four hundred people in black tie stood around a string quartet playing something from a movie.

Cameras flashed as we came up the steps.

Truman put his palm flat against my bare back, warm and heavy, and I felt it all the way down.

Honoria was there in silver, speaking to a doctor.

She gave me a nod so small it might have been a muscle cramp.

Colin was there too, with Tatum on his arm, by the champagne.

I kept my chin up and my eyes on my husband.

"Dance with me," I said.

"I don't."

"You do now."

He did.

He was a bad dancer, big and careful, and his hand never left my back.

"My father died on the fourth floor of the hospital we're raising money for," he said, low, against my hair.

"The east wing. It's where they put the adults who wouldn't fit anywhere else."

I stopped moving.

"You told me the east wing. You didn't say it was this hospital."

"I didn't say a lot of things."

The quartet changed songs.

"He was sick for eleven weeks. My mother sat with him every day."

"I was in Rotterdam signing a port contract, and I told myself I'd be home in time."

His voice stayed level.

"The clause was my grandfather's, but my father wanted me to keep it. He said he didn't want me alone in that building."

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