Chapter 8
Sylvia’s nails dug into her palms so hard she nearly broke the skin. Her amber eyes flickered with instinctive disgust.
At least she didn’t have to go to that family dinner.
She had no interest in acting out a farce of two women vying for the same man in front of an audience.
Her voice was flat and cold.”Don’t worry. I really am busy.”
“Your dress is inside.”
Ronan’s tone was impassive.
In the three-year marriage, Sylvia had barely had any social life outside of work. She hardly ever wore makeup.
Her figure was good. She could pull off any gown, hair twisted up with effortless elegance.
So whenever she had to return to the family mansion, Ronan would simply have his assistant, Jeffrey Huston, pick out a dress for her.
She sat in the car now, fingers clutching the garment bag, unmoving.
“You’re not going to change here?”
His work rarely left him much free time. So many nights, he’d picked her up last minute for an event, and she’d changed right here in the
backseat.
Why was it different today?
Once, she would have thought nothing of dressing in front of her husband.
But today, Lacey was sitting up front.
Her rejection came cold and unyielding.”I’ll change in the bathroom when we arrive.”
Ronan’s gaze drifted over her simple, inexpensive clothes. His voice carried an edge that brooked no argument.
“Change now.”
They stared each other down in silence. It was Lacey who finally turned with a sweet, understanding smile.”Are you embarrassed? Should I step out for a moment?”
Sylvia flicked her a glance, her voice icy.”I said I’m not changing.”
Ronan’s foot slammed down on the brake.”Sylvia!”
“Ronan,” she said evenly, “I don’t have a habit of undressing in front of my husband and his mistress. If that’s what you want, find someone else to play your games.”
She opened the door and got out without another word, walking toward the Gordon’s mansion as if nothing had happened.
Ronan remained behind the wheel, clearly seething.
The Sylvia he’d known would never have spoken to him that way, with such disregard for decorum.
What was wrong with changing her clothes? Weren’t she and Lacey practically sisters, growing up together?
Lacey watched him carefully, her voice soft as she tried to smooth things over.
“She must be shy. It’s been so many years since we’ve all been together. Don’t be angry, Ron. If I’d known today was the family dinner, I wouldn’t have accepted a ride.”
She glanced out at the row of parked cars.
Ronan said nothing, his jaw tight.
The Gordon’s mansion was crowded by the time Sylvia walked in.
She hadn’t changed yet. She still carried the garment bag in her hands, looking plain compared to the other women glittering in their finery.
Every head turned toward her, eyes flickering with barely disguised disdain.
“Mrs. Gordon shows up looking like that. A sparrow will always be a sparrow. Dress it up however you like, you will never belong here.”
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The words drifted past her ears, but they didn’t sting the way they once would have.
Aside from Caleb, none of the Gordon family had ever considered her worthy of respect. She was a lowly being who didn’t deserve their
respect.
If it hadn’t been for Caleb’s protection, they would have said far worse.
Sylvia clutched the dress tighter against her chest, her voice steady as she murmured, “I’ll be upstairs.”
She reached the bathroom and quickly changed. Then she took out a tube of lipstick and dabbed it over her pale lips.
The color warmed her complexion, making her look more alive.
When she returned to the living room, a maid informed her that Ronan was in the study with Caleb.
Lacey was nowhere in sight. Maybe she really had only been here for the ride. Sylvia didn’t care enough to wonder. She sank into the corner of the sofa.
“This dress is beautiful,” someone drawled nearby, “but the woman in it, well, simply doesn’t measure up.”
A soft laugh followed the remark.
Sylvia lifted her gaze and found Ronan’s aunt, Andrea Gordon, sauntering over.
At thirty-seven, she was still impeccably maintained.
No amount of expensive skincare could soften the harshness in her face.
Sylvia’s smile barely touched her mouth.”Andrea, it’s always the person who makes the dress, never the other way around. If you need clothes to prove your worth, it’s like sending Goldie to sit at the table while the rest of you eat on the floor. Rather backward, don’t you think?”
The family’s golden retriever, Goldie, was a pampered dog.
Andrea’s expression soured as she realized Sylvia’s barb was aimed straight at her. She eyed Sylvia curiously, as though trying to figure out when she’d grown a spine.
Andrea thought, “Usually, this woman is all bowed head and meek smiles, practically groveling for scraps of approval.
“Today, she actually dares to talk back?”
Her face darkened, but she didn’t rise to the bait.
…
Instead, Andrea’s voice dripped with mock concern.”Sylvia, you’ve been married to Ronan for years. You used your title to worm your way into
mediocre.” Gordon Airlines. And yet, after all that, you’re still just a lowly flight attendant. A Gordon isn’t supposed to be so
Everyone knew Sylvia had taken that job for Ronan’s sake.
Andrea’s smile sharpened.”Wasn’t your plan to use work to keep your man close? I heard Lacey’s come back to town. So tell me, how’s that working out for you?”
