The Wrong Wife by Maya Alden

Chapter 15

Esme

Ifelt like I had gone a few rounds with a heavy-weight fighter after I got out of the car. Both my father and Nina Knight had commented on my dress and that it was appropriate; however, the hair and makeup were not. According to Nina, a Marchesa was wasted on me because I didn’t carry it well.

She seemed to be egged on by my father, who constantly demeaned me.

"One would imagine you'd know how to wear makeup," he shook his head. "Take a class or, even better, ask Viv to teach you. By the way, did you call her?"

I shook my head. "I'll talk to her today, Daddy, when I see her at the restaurant."

"After dinner," Nina warned, "Not before or during. We need her and Dec to be at their best when talking to Senator Rivers. His wife Julien is into Native American art, so Mateo will sit beside her—he’s very knowledgeable. Esme, you will sit between your father and Mateo. That way, you won't be able to get into any trouble."

What trouble could I get into in a Michelin-star restaurant? I had researched Melisse, and it was a two-Michelin star restaurant that was near impossible to get a reservation at for lesser mortals, not the Knights.

Next time, I would come up with a stomach bug or a headache, I promised myself. This was not worth an orgasm in the backseat of a car because as we were driving, Viv and Declan probably were doing that and more together. My insecurities that had vanished during those minutes with Declan had come right back to eat at me.

Why had he touched me? I wondered. And why had he been so kind and understanding if he was going make it obvious to everyone that he was with Viv again, regardless of how she treated him? Was this love? It probably was. I loved my parents, and they treated me with the same indifference as Viv and Declan.

Like Tina said, what's love got to do with it? Absolutely nothing.

So, I needed to be careful and lay down some rules.

1. Don't have sex with your husband or…to be precise, have any sexual relations with him, cigar orgasms included.

2. Don't fall in love with your husband, even if he's kind, because it's all for show; remember that.

3. Find a job and save enough money to escape your family forever.

Maybe I should've demanded some money at the end of the marriage—but I wasn't mercenary. I needed enough to pay my bills and do the work that made me happy. And what made me happy was taking care of people. I tried so hard to care for my family and now Declan—but to what end? They didn't even notice. No, I'd help the people at the Safe Harbor Women's Shelter and build my resume. Then I could get a job with L.A. County where I could do so much more. I would work with single mothers and help them raise their children with dignity; heal the spirits of battered women and children.

Viv and Declan were laughing as they stepped out of his car when my father grabbed my arm again, and I suppressed a wince because he was hurting me. Letting him know wouldn't do because then he'd do it harder. I knew from experience.

"Esme, be careful and don't embarrass me. Got it?"

"Yes, Daddy."

He walked away, and I put my left hand on my right arm to soothe it. Declan's eyes went flinty as he walked up to me.

"Hi," he said.

I looked up at him, clearing all the doubts and stress of the evening from my eyes. "Hi."

"Are you okay?"

I nodded. Why was Declan asking? He didn't care. What had happened in the car seemed like a lifetime ago—when I had foolishly thought we'd have a chance. But then Viv walked in, and that was that.

"Hi, Esme." Viv approached us and slid her hand into my husband's arm. He didn't shake her off but looked at me with concerned eyes.

"Viv, you look beautiful." She did too.

She laughed softly. "Thanks. Silk, I feel, is always a good idea."

"Do you think we could have a quick chat after dinner?" I requested it because I knew my father would ask me.

She shrugged. "We'll see. Dec, we better get inside."

I thought I was hiswife, and he should be escorting me as I walked behind them, watching his perfect ass and her supremely tight one.

A man stepped next to me and held the door. From the quick hellos I gathered, this was Mateo Silva, Knight Tech's Chief Technology Officer, and a total hottie. He was as tall as Declan, around six two. His skin was the color of chocolate latte, his eyes were light gray, and his body looked like it went to the gym often. I wondered if he was a boxer or had been based on his nose, which had been broken in the past. I'd seen such breaks in my career working with battered women and children.

"How are you doing?" He walked with me as we followed the maître d to our table.

"Very well, thank you. I'm Esme."

"Mateo."

"I believe I'm supposed to sit next to you."

Mateo grinned. "You know, Nina Knight, she'll slot us all away as she sees fit."

"And Mrs. Rivers is going to be sitting on your other side. She's interested in Native American art as are you, so feel free to ignore me and keep her company." We took our seats, except for the Senator and his wife who were running late.

"Ignore you?" He sat down next to me; his shoulder brushed against mine.

"Well, you won't be impolite if you focused only on Mrs. Rivers."

"I would be," Mateo declared and then looked up at the server, "An old-fashioned with rye."

I struggled with the menu without my glasses, but I knew if I took them out of my purse, my father would make me pay for that faux pas. I decided to ignore the menu and ask for a glass of champagne. A place like this should have an excellent selection by the glass. "I'll have a—"

"She's fine with water," my father decided for me. "Let's try not to get drunk on our first important dinner." He sounded playful, like we had a close relationship, and I was an alcoholic.

The server stepped away, and Mateo leaned in. "What would you like to drink?"

"Water is fine." I felt stiff and uncomfortable. I also wanted to have a good cry. Senator Rivers was supposed to sit between Viv and Dec, and until he arrived, they sat together discussing how they'd run the conversation. Who says what and when. This wasn't the first time they were tag teaming at a social event where business was to be discussed. They were a team. I was the outsider.

"Come on, Esme; you're of age; you can drink." Mateo's tone was fierce, a little judgmental, and I felt my shoulders droop. There was no winning. If I ordered a glass of champagne, my father would be livid; if I didn't, Mateo would think I was a doormat.

Mateo, I didn't know, my father, I did. I could feel his nails digging into my forearm again if I refused him. He never hit me anymore, and we didn't talk about the past. Everyone would say that Julien Hartley would never stoop domestic violence, but he left marks on me all the same and terrorized me.

I had been living with little interference except for social events that my father deemed essential for me to attend. But now, I was married to Declan, and there would be no respite from my family. I'd have to watch as Declan and Viv got back together, which looked imminent if I had to go by how they were cooing at each other. She'd cheated on him, and he'd said she was the wrong wife, and yet, here we were.

"Esme?" Mateo asked again.

I turned to him and smiled nervously. "Mr. Silva…"

"Mateo."

"Mateo, it would displease my father if I drank alcohol. I understand that you feel I should do what I want, and rest assured I do, but I'd very much like not to upset him for the short time while I'm in his company. I'll also ignore the judgment in your voice because you don't know me, and you have no business judging me."

I expected Mateo to get upset, but instead, he grinned brightly.

"You're direct."

"It prevents miscommunication."

"I'm sorry if I sounded judgmental. I don't like your father, nor do I like how bossy he was. And since we're being direct, I also don't like how your husband is pretending you don't exist while he canoodles with the woman who was cheating on him for most of their relationship."

I was saved from responding when everyone at the table stood. Senator River and his wife had arrived. Jose Rivers was tall with silver hair and chocolate brown skin attesting to his Latin roots; Cecily Rivers was African American with naturally curly hair tied away from her face.

Once we sat down, introductions were made, and the wine started to flow as part of the paired six-course meal. My father was too engrossed in talking to Nina Knight but that didn’t give me the courage to savor the white Burgundy served with the Halibut mousse amuse bouche. He’d know and then there would be hell to pay.

"Esme, I hear you studied social work." Cecily leaned forward, and Mateo moved his chair back so the senator’s wife and I could have direct eye contact.

"Yes, ma'am. I just finished a master's program at the University of Washington."

"Impressive. And what are your plans? I expect you'll get involved with the Knight Foundation?"

My father and Nina Knight's ear pricked at that, and I was suddenly at the center of Cecily and Mateo's attention. A place I hated as much as I disliked wearing a designer gown for this dinner.

"I'd love to, but I'm committed to working for the Caruso Foundation. Maria is a good friend of mine, and I will be helping them with a women's shelter."

"Safe Harbor?" she asked, and I nodded.

Please don't say Skid Row; please don't say anything about Safe Harbor, which would make my father angry.

"Now, that's the place changing people's lives," she attested. I sighed in relief. "The Caruso family is known for their good works."

I nodded. "Hundred percent of all the monies go directly to support their projects, which I admire."

"They're so committed to taking care of the community. Do you know Mark as well?" Cecily continued.

I smiled at Mark's name; instant warmth showed on my face. "He's my closest friend, and it's through him I met Maria."

My father stepped in then and steered the conversation away from me to other topics.

Mateo ignored my father's pointed looks at him to take charge of Mrs. Rivers and seemed blissfully unaware of them.

"How is married life treating you, Esme?" he asked softly, his face close to mine. I could smell the whiskey and wine on his breath.

"I met the artist Phoenix earlier, and he was…well, keen on ensuring that I had not come in between Declan and the love of his life. Is that what you're asking me about?"

"I doubt that Viv is the love of his life. A woman who so easily discards a man she promises to love…that woman is not the love of anyone's life," he scoffed.

Viv and Declan were talking to Senator Rivers, who seemed to enjoy the conversation very much.

"They look perfect together," I whispered enviously. Declan Knight had always been out of my reach and never more so now that we were married and lived together.

Mateo looked at me with narrowed eyes. "Do you want him?"

I was surprised by the question. “I…I…” I stuttered.

"Do you?" he asked again.

"I don't know what I want matters."

"Sure, it does. If you want something, get it. If you don't want Declan, who cares who he fucks."

Did I care who he fucked? Yes, I did. He was my husband, and our marriage, as dysfunctional as it was, to me was still something to be revered. This marriage was a business contract, but deep down, I knew I wanted a real marriage with Declan.

I watched him laugh when Viv said something, and I silenced my heart. Viv was good at charming people, and I was good at curbing my needs.