Sam raised a brow and Morgan wanted to take his question back. He never bothered himself with gossip. The fact he’d asked about Matt and Virginia meant something and Sam caught on right away.
“They’re together as far as I know,” Sam said slowly. Morgan didn’t bother to look at him again. He didn’t want to see that knowing gaze. “Matt is an up and coming lawyer in his firm. He’ll be partner one day as long as he learns to keep his…proclivities to himself.”
Callie looked over at Morgan then, meeting his gaze. Her eyes were bright, but not with happiness.
No, it was obvious she knew what others were saying about her, what she assumed he was saying about her.
She looked over at the people around him, one by one, then back at him.
She stiffened slightly and he wanted to shout that she was wrong.
It would have been a lie though.
She was clearly aware of what the others thought and now he was sure she knew he thought so too.
She gave him a tight smile, then turned back to Matt who led her to another painting.
If he’d wanted to make sure that Callie would never want him, he’d just made that a certainty.
Well, hell.
Chapter Five
“I can’t believe people can be so fucking stupid.”
Callie nodded at Matt’s words, her nails digging into his arm. When he winced, she pulled back, softly patting the grooves she’d left. She needed to control herself better than that.
“Sorry.”
Matt cursed again before moving his arm so it was around her waist. He leaned closer so others couldn’t hear them and she calmed at her friend’s closeness. “Why are you sorry? What on earth did you do? You came with me to a freaking gala. A gala I didn’t want to go to in the first place and now people are being idiots. I wish I could have gotten out of it because now I want to bash people’s heads together for the way they are treating you. Whispers or not, it’s still fucking annoying.”
Callie sighed and pulled him closer to one of the paintings. People weren’t near them so they wouldn’t be able to hear what she said. In fact, the others had left a wide swath between them as if they would catch some kind of cooties if they got too close.
Matt was right.
The people in this room were fucking stupid.
“Don’t pay them any mind, Matt,” she said softly. She tried to smile as she said it but she was afraid it came out as more of a sneer. Maybe even with a grimace. “We’re friends. We’ve been friends since I let you marry my friend Virginia.”
He laughed roughly, and Callie relaxed somewhat. She’d tried to make him laugh, and though it hadn’t been one of his normal, deep belly laughs, it was at least something. Matt was one of the nicest guys she knew and usually didn’t get angry so quickly. The fact that he seemed to want to bash heads together told her exactly how much the others and their petty whispers and glares dug into her friend’s psyche. While she might want to go scratch out a few eyes—the blonde on Morgan’s arm in particular—she wouldn’t succumb to temptation.
In fact, she wouldn’t be succumbing to any temptation in the near future.
She was done with that. Done with any dreams, heated naps, or allure that could move her to do something she’d regret. She’d been stupid to think that she could have a man who obviously thought he was better than she. There was nothing wrong with her, her life, what she loved or what she did for a living. The fact that he seemed to think she wasn’t appropriate? Well, fuck him.
“And I will thank you every day until the end of my days for letting me have your friend,” Matt said, interrupting her tumultuous thoughts. “That doesn’t, however, make me feel any better for putting you in this situation.”
She shook her head, annoyed with herself for letting her thoughts go down a path that wasn’t good for anyone. “No, you didn’t put me in any situation. The people in this room with their little brains and high chins are the ones who did that. I came here because you’re my friend and you needed me. Plus I happen to like art. I’m fine, Matt. Stop worrying about me.” She wasn’t fine, but she wasn’t going to tell him that.
If Morgan hadn’t been there—and boy, oh boy, hadn’t that been a surprise—she’d have gotten through the evening without a problem; yet the man who plagued her dreams made an uncomfortable situation even worse. His presence at this…party rocked her self-confidence to its core.
Damn him.
No man should be allowed to make her feel like she wasn’t good enough. She’d let him get too close. No, that wasn’t it. He hadn’t been close to begin with. Instead, she’d let the mere thought of him, the dream of a man who didn’t really exist, hurt her. That was on her.
“Callie, honey, you came with me because you’re my friend and yet I’m screwing you over.”
She pushed Morgan firmly out of her mind and faced Matt. “You didn’t screw me over. Your wife is sick, Morgan. Virginia has the freaking flu and couldn’t come to this thing with you. She’s the one who called me. I’m the one who accepted her proposal. All you’ve done is get me into a pretty dress and take me out for a night on the town because your wife asked you to. There’s no fault in that.” He’d even offered to buy her a dress in case she didn’t have one. She didn’t have a dress that satisfied these people’s standards, but she had a dress that looked damn good on her. Matt and Virginia didn’t pity her, never patronized her, and would never offend her by offering her charity despite the vast difference in their net worth. Callie thought she would be fine.
Apparently she’d been wrong.
She fingered the side of her dress then paused. She wouldn’t feel bad about the polyester/rayon blend she wore compared to the silks, satins, velvet and fancy linen around her. She’d never valued expensive clothes and she wouldn’t now. She liked what she had and was happy with it.
Her friend narrowed his eyes at the movement. “There is a fault in that when the people who are supposed to be my friends are talking about you behind your back.” He paused. “No, it’s not behind your back since we can hear them and they’re not doing a good job about hiding what they think.”
She didn’t think the others in the room had been trying to hide and that had been the point.
“These people aren’t your friends and you know it,” she said softly, trying to take the sting out of her words.
He gave her a wry smile. “True. They’re my colleagues and clients. My true friends are the ones who drop everything in their lives to come to something like this so I won’t look like a complete idiot about art.” He grimaced. “I have no idea what art is, Callie. I like what I like, but I don’t know if it’s good or not. That’s what Virginia does. She leads me around and is the best wife I could have ever asked for. She knows what to do for dinners, galas, and other parties. She does all of that and grades papers every night because she works too hard. I love her so much, Callie, and she isn’t here.”
She smiled at Matt’s words. It was true that he had no idea about art or even how to act in a world he hadn’t grown up in. While she and Virginia had always been on the poor side growing up, Matt had been solid middle class. Because of good grades, scholarships, and just being an amazing person, Matt had gone to an Ivy League school and was now an associate lawyer in a prestigious firm. He’d made something of himself and had found Virginia, a schoolteacher with the biggest heart Callie had ever seen, along the way.
They were such a cute couple.
A couple that didn’t quite fit into this societal mold, but were just fine.
And now that he’d brought Callie with him, he’d probably taken a step or two back in the eyes of those that thought they were her betters.
They couple would be fine and Matt would recover, but rumors were rumors.
She honestly didn’t care what people thought, and on a normal night, Matt wouldn’t either. He was just stressed not only over a case, but because he’d been forced to leave his sick wife at home alone. He couldn’t miss ton
ight’s event, even if coming with Callie put a stain on his reputation. It probably would have been worse if he hadn’t come at all since he was so new in the firm.
Maybe if Callie didn’t have the tattoos and funky hair, they could have pulled it off. She just hadn’t known what to expect in Matt’s new world.
Now she knew.
And she wanted no part of it.
She’d shrugged off the looks, the whispers, and the words that were spoken in not-so-hushed tones at first. It wasn’t like she’d ever see these people again, so who cared what they thought of her? Matt, however, would have to deal with the consequences of the others’ mistaken judgments, but he’d live through it. He and Virginia were tough.
She would have been fine.
Then she’d seen Morgan.
The look on his face…
Damn, she thought she was tougher than that. It wasn’t as if he was hers.
He wasn’t.
He’d shot that down quickly.
She apparently wasn’t what he wanted. As he put it, she wasn’t appropriate.
Matt sighed from beside her and she turned to her friend. “What’s going on?” she asked, pulling her thoughts from the man who’d hurt her with just one glare.
“I need to call Virginia,” he said softly and she grinned.
“Why? Because it’s been twenty minutes since you’ve talked to her?” she teased.
He blushed and her body relaxed. She’d come to this event to help her friends and that’s just what she’d do. Screw the others with their small minds and big mouths.
“Shut up, Callie,” he murmured and she leaned into him. The whispers around them increased and she had to bite her tongue so she wouldn’t turn around and bite back.
“Go call your woman. I’ll be okay here. Honest,” she added when he gave her a look.
Matt kissed her forehead, his hand tangling in her hair—the same thing he’d done for years—and she wanted to kick him. Seriously? He was going to act like the big brother he felt like in front of all these people? They wouldn’t see that as a friendly, non-sexual kiss. Instead they’d see it as flaunting his mistress. In public no less. She wanted to curse and throw something, but that wouldn’t solve anything. So, she lifted her chin and studied the painting in front of her. Maybe if she kept her attention on the beautiful strokes, the subject of the painting, she could ignore the others circling around her like sharks that smelled blood in the water.
“And who might you might you be, dear?”
Callie grimaced and turned to see an older woman in a dark dress and pearls. Lots of pearls. She pasted on a smile and tried to play the game. The game she had no possible chance of winning since she didn’t know all the rules, but she would go down fighting, damn it.
“Callie Masters.” She didn’t hold her hand out since this woman didn’t seem the type to lower herself to touch those she thought beneath her. Normally, Callie wouldn’t judge so quickly, but there was something about this woman that set her teeth on edge. “And you would be...?”
The woman raised a brow, as if she’d expected Callie—and everyone else in the vicinity—to know who she was. Too bad Callie wasn’t part of this circle. Thank God.
“I’m Eleanor McAllister.”
McAllister? Surely not. This couldn’t be Morgan’s mother. Maybe his aunt or something. Or maybe McAllister was a common name. There was a general resemblance to Morgan, but those shrewd eyes were identical to Morgan’s and Callie knew this woman was a close relative at the very least.
Of all the galas in all the world…
The woman didn’t like her; that much was certain. Callie could just imagine what would happen if Eleanor McAllister found out about the dirty, dirty dreams and thoughts Callie had about Morgan. Did women still have fainting spells in societies like this? What was the word? Oh yeah, swoon. Or maybe even have the vapors.
“It’s nice to meet you,” she lied. This woman wasn’t speaking to her to make friends, of that Callie was sure. In fact, this woman was the first person at this shindig to dare speaking to Callie. No good could come of this but Callie wasn’t about to make things worse for Matt by acting like a bitch.
Eleanor raised a single brow. “Is it?”
Callie blinked, unsure what to say to that. She hated being clueless in any situation.
Eleanor’s gaze traveled up and down her body, that dismissing sneer growing sharper with each passing second. Nothing like being dismissed.
“Is there something I can do for you?” Callie was done with trying to be nice. She wouldn’t go flat out crazy and tell this woman and her friends who silently stood off in the corner watching this interaction exactly what she felt, but she wouldn’t stand by and let others tear her down either. She could walk that fine line, damn it.
Eleanor met her gaze, her eyes full of contempt. “You’re not wanted here, girl. You should know your betters and go back to the street corners and gutters you came from.”
Callie sucked in a breath. The nerve of this woman. “Matt is my friend. If you spent less time judging others and more time working on your people skills, you wouldn’t have so many wrinkles around your mouth.” She snapped her mouth shut and cursed herself.
Jesus. Way to go, Callie. Way to fucking go.
“You little slut,” she whispered. “You’re ruining a man who didn’t have much to lose in the first place. If you’re going to roll in the hay with him, do it privately. Don’t throw it in our faces. I don’t care if that young man is your friend. Get out of here or I will ruin him. He should know better than to bring his trash here on his arm.”
Callie balled her hands into fists and opened her mouth to snap back, but stopped when she saw Morgan come up behind Eleanor.
“Mother” He spoke quietly, his voice deep—and cold as ice. Callie’s body betrayed her at the sound of his voice and Eleanor caught it.
Damn, damn, damn.
“Morgan, darling. Leave this to me. I need to teach this tramp a lesson. She should have known better than to come here among decent people.”
“That’s enough,” he said firmly. “Go back to your friends.”—the derision was crystal clear—“and I will deal with this.”
Deal with this? What the hell did he mean by that? God, she needed to remember that he didn’t like her. He was courteous, even nice every once in awhile, but he didn’t want her. She couldn’t forget that—not and keep her heart intact.
“Morgan—”
“Enough.” He cut her off and met Callie’s gaze. “Come with me.”
Her back stiffened at his tone, but Callie knew that she would probably be better off with him than with the growing crowd. Sure he was an asshole who’s look told her he thought she was a whore, but she still knew him better than she knew anyone else since Matt wasn’t there. This was just great.
“You know this woman, Morgan?” Eleanor asked, her voice dripping poison.
“Who I know and what I do is not your concern. You’re making a scene, and God knows you hate those. Go save your precious reputation and stop acting like an old snake.”
Callie’s eyes widened. She’d thought Morgan’s tone with her had been harsh, but the one he’d used with his mother made her want to wince. He certainly seemed to hold no affection for her. Now she was as confused as ever.
Morgan held out his arm and she took it after hesitating for a moment. His eyes narrowed when she did so, but she held her chin up. They walked through the room toward the balcony and she tried to ignore the voices around her, their confusion and interest stabbing at her like a thousand claws.
She’d made a mistake and she knew it.
She never should have come and she damn sure shouldn’t have taken Morgan’s arm.
“I’m sorry about that,” he said as soon as they were alone on the balcony.
The words didn’t soothe her like he probably wanted. Instead she kept her back straight, forcing herself not to lash out, or worse, cry. She was stronger than this and she had to remin
d herself of that.
“Sorry about what? The fact that everyone here thinks I’m Matt’s mistress? The fact that they would actually think that Matt would cheat on his wife, my friend Virginia? Or how about when your mother called me a slut? Hmm? No, how about this...how about when you looked at me like you thought all of that was true? You honestly thought I was a whore. Well fuck you, Morgan. I know you don’t think I’m good enough for you and the people you call friends, but hell, I thought you were better than that. I thought that you actually got to know me just a little. Enough that you wouldn’t automatically jump to the conclusion that I had to be screwing the married man I came with or any married man for that matter. Did you even ask me why I was here? No. You just automatically thought I was a slut. Thanks for that.”
Her chest heaved and to her horror, she tasted salt on her tongue. She quickly wiped her face, pissed off at herself for breaking down.
Damn it. She’d made a mess of it.
Morgan shocked her by brushing a tear away with his thumb. They both sucked in a breath, their gazes meeting.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “So fucking sorry you had to go through that.”
“You’re not denying what you thought, though,” she whispered. Pain sliced through her but she ignored it. She had to move on and grow up. Making herself feel worse for other’s thoughts and actions wouldn’t help.
Morgan cursed then took her face in his hands, surprising them both. “Yes. I thought that.” She opened her mouth to speak but he stopped her. “I thought that because I’m a bastard and I used my past experiences with the people around me to judge you. The people here…” he let out a breath. “Let’s just say the people here don’t mind cheating as long as you don’t put it out in front of everyone like it looked like you and your friend were doing.”
She closed her eyes and pulled away. She missed his touch, but she couldn’t think when he held her face like that. “I didn’t care when the others thought that.” She paused. “Well, I cared a little because I hate judgmental people. It was more that they were hurting Matt, you know? He didn’t do anything wrong except bring a friend into the lion’s den. Gah! People are nuts. But you know what hurt worse?” She should be holding her tongue with this part, but she’d already asked him out the day prior so she might as well let it all hang out there.
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