"I'm sorry," Avery says. "I'm not as comfortable as you are with this situation. I have to go."
She pulls herself free from Rebecca's grip and runs backstage to get her purse. She takes the back door out of the auditorium, and races down the stairs to her car. She jams the keys in the ignition and drives out of the garage as fast as she can.
Rebecca watches Avery run away with a small smile. She rubs her eyes with her fists as hard as she can and then walks back toward the auditorium to look for Evan. Evan's seat is empty, but the company's employees are still milling around and gossiping about the dramatic presentations.
She pushes through the crowd, getting sympathetic looks from the employees. The women especially seem to feel bad for her. They offer her encouraging smiles as she passes. The others whisper behind their hands.
"Do you think she just had a fight with Evan's ex-wife," a female voice whispers. "She looks like she's been crying."
"I wouldn't be surprised if she was crying," a male voice answers. "I've heard that his ex-wife is a nightmare."
She grabs her handbag from her seat and looks around the room. She catches Crystal's eye and nods at the designer before walking to the door. She takes the elevator down to the garage and hops into her car. She drives straight to a small café, and parks at the meter outside.
She slides into the most private booth and orders a glass of sparkling lemon water. As she waits, she sips the water and looks around the room. Within a few minutes, Crystal slides into the booth opposite her. Crystal tucks her hair behind her ears and drops her sunglasses onto the table. She reaches into her handbag and pulls out a pen drive.
"Okay, Miss Arlington, all the photos are on here," Crystal says. "I deleted the photos off my phone. Rest assured, you'll have the only copies in the world."
Rebecca takes the drive and puts it in a zippered pouch inside her purse. She reaches for the checkbook and starts to fill in Crystal's name. The fountain pen scratches across the paper, and Crystal clears her throat.
"I have to say, and I was really surprised, Miss Arlington," Crystal says. "When I first showed you the photos, I thought you'd be surprised. But you acted like you already knew all about Avery. Tell me, are you a good actress or a good spy?"
Rebecca laughs and says, "Honestly, do you think I wouldn't look into my boyfriend? I knew all about his marriage to and divorce from Avery. I asked her to design the cufflinks on purpose—I wanted to see what kind of woman she was."
"Hmm," Crystal says, tapping her chin. "And why did you show the photos today? Were you trying to embarrass her or Evan?"
"Why do you think?" Rebecca asks.
"I think you wanted to embarrass her while getting sympathy for yourself," Crystal says. "People will gossip about Avery now. They'll talk about her divorce and wonder if you're the reason. At the same time, they'll feel bad for you because it looked like you were humiliated too."
Rebecca smiles and says, "You're a smart woman, Crystal, and a gifted designer. If you're ever looking for a new opportunity, let me know. But for now, I think you should stay at D.O. Who knows, we may have the chance to work together again."
Rebecca tears the check out of the leather-bound checkbook and folds it in half. She holds it between her fingertips and offers it to Crystal. Crystal hesitates, but she takes it and glances down at the number. Her eyes widen, and she smiles.
"What about Sophie?" Crystal asks.
"I'll speak to her for you," Rebecca says.
"Thank you, Miss Arlington," Crystal says. "It was my pleasure to work with you."
Avery checks her rearview mirror: the black Maybach is still following her. The car started tailing her when she left the parking lot, and it's been behind her ever since. She bites her lip and takes a sudden left turn, and the car does the same. She turns left again and then again, slowly making a circle. The car continues to follow her.
She sighs. She knows that Evan's men typically drive black Maybachs, but she supposes it could be one of Andrew's men too. She gives up trying to lose the car and drives back toward Andrew's villa. Outside the gates, she clicks her remote. The gates slide open and she pulls into the long driveway. The car speeds away into the night. If he didn't follow me in, it must be one of Evan's men, she thinks.
She steers her car down the winding, sloping driveway into the underground garage. Even though the garage is enormous, it always feels stuffy. Andrew claims it's to keep his treasured sports cars from rusting in the salty beach air.
The garage is unusually dark. A series of motion sensors normally turn the lights on and off, but as she drives in, the lights stay off. She squints through the darkness, looking for the outlines of Andrew's sports cars. When the lights are working, each gleams under its own spotlights.
She turns her headlights on and continues to drive forward. A white blur moves in front of the car. Avery slams the brakes and honks her horn, but the figure is already gone. She inches forward, but something seems to move to the right. She pumps the brakes and looks out the window.
A filmy figure seems to float in the air. It looks like a woman in a long white gown. The skirts of the gowns rustle and sway, but there's no breeze. The figure's face is covered in long, black hair. Slowly, it raises a pale arm and points at the car.
Avery shivers and throws the car into reverse. She checks her side mirror before hitting the gas, and she screams—the figure is now less than six feet from the left side of the car. She shakes her head and closes her eyes, pressing the palms of her hands into her eyes.
She opens her eyes and looks at the left side mirror. The figure is gone. She breathes a sigh of relief and straightens in her seat. I really am losing it, she thinks. For a second, I thought I saw a ghost. She looks out the windshield and screams again—the figure is right in front of the car.
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Its long dark hair has been parted to the side, and it stares at her with huge, black eyes. Its mouth is open as if it's screaming, but no sound comes. She stares into the gaping darkness of its mouth and slams the gas. The car speeds backward and crashes into one of the garage's support poles.
The seatbelt tightens around her chest and stomach, and she gasps for breath. It feels like someone has kicked her. She lifts her head and looks around the garage, checking each of her mirrors in turn, but the ghost has disappeared. She stays frozen in the driver's seat, watching the minutes tick past on the dashboard clock.
After fifteen minutes, she takes a deep breath and rubs her stomach. She fumbles for the seatbelt buckle and climbs out the car, leaving the door hanging open behind her. She runs out of the dark garage and into the brightly lit house.
Andrew and Jessica are playing video games in the living room. Andrew's forehead is wrinkled in concentration, and Jessica's face is flushed with excitement. Jessica stares at the screen with frenzied intensity and pants for breath as she plays. She seems to have smudged some eyeliner under her left eye in her excitement.
As soon as Avery enters the room, Andrew drops his controller and rushes over. He grabs her arms and gently leads her to the sofa.
"Are you okay, Avery?" he asks. "You look really pale."
"I'm fine," Avery says. "I just had a bit of an accident. I reversed my car into one of the support poles in the garage. The garage is fine, but my car might need some repairs. Can you ask a servant to take care of it?"
"Are you sure you're okay?" Andrew asks, looking up and down at her body. "Someone get the doctor down here!"
"Hey Andrew, are we gonna play or what?" Jessica calls from across the living room.
"Not now," Andrew shouts. "Ask James to play with you."
"But you promised," Jessica says, sounding as petulant as a whiny child.
"Jesus Jessica, your sister-in-law, just had an accident," Andrew snaps. "I have more important things to do right now."
"She's not my sister-in-law," Jessica mutters.
If Andrew hears her, he acts like he doesn't. Avery sighs and closes her eyes. When she opens them, the family doctor is leaning over him with his stethoscope in his ears. A sharp pain stabs at her belly, and she groans.
"What's wrong with her doctor?" Andrew asks.
"Let me examine her," the doctor says.
She closes her eyes and lets the doctor move her back and forth as he listens to her heart and then listens to the baby's heart. He takes her blood pressure and makes her open her eyes so he can shine a light on her pupils.
"What's wrong with her?" Andrew asks again.
"It's nothing serious," the doctor says. "She's just had a shock, and she seems a bit fatigued. She needs to rest and relax. Keep her away from anything that might stress her or make her nervous."
He takes Andrew by the elbow and leads him a few steps away from the sofa. He lowers his voice and says, "I need to start a medical file for her. Can I put her down as Avery Clifford?"
"Not until after the wedding," Andrew whispers back.
"You know I can hear you," Avery says. "And there's no need to change my medical files at all. What's the point?"
"To prove you're my wife," Andrew says.
Avery scowls at him and takes a glass of water from a maid. She raises the glass and takes a small sip and then another. Before she realizes it, she's finished the glass. Andrew dismisses the doctor and comes to sit down next to her.
"I thought you went to work at D.O.," he says. "What happened? What shocked you? I find it hard to believe that a woman who bravely faced a lion and a pit of snakes would get scared by something small."
For a moment, she thinks about telling him the truth. From across the room, Jessica groans and kicks James. She looks at Andrew and shrugs.
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