"I left a few messages on your voice mail at home," she said, in a voice that was cultured and smooth.
"Ah, I haven't been there much lately." As if that reminded him I was next to him, he released her and drew me up to his side. "Corinne, this is Eva Tramell. Eva, Corinne Giroux. An old friend."
I extended my hand to her and she shook it.
"Any friend of Gideon's is a friend of mine," she said with a warm smile.
"I hope that applies to girlfriends as well."
When her gaze met mine, it was knowing. "Especially girlfriends. If you could spare him a moment, I've been hoping to introduce him to an associate of mine."
"Of course." My voice was calm; I was anything but.
Gideon gave me a perfunctory kiss on the temple before he stepped closer to Corinne and offered his arm to her, leaving Magdalene standing awkwardly next to me.
I actually felt sorry for her, she looked so dejected. "Your new hairstyle is very flattering, Magdalene."
She glanced at me, her mouth tight, and then it softened with a sigh that sounded filled with resignation. "Thank you. It was time for a change. Time for many changes, I think. Also, there was no reason to imitate the one who got away now that she's back."
I frowned in confusion. "You lost me."
"I'm talking about Corinne." She studied my face. "You don't know. She and Gideon were engaged, for over a year. She broke it off, married a wealthy Frenchman, and moved to Europe. But the marriage fell apart. They're now getting divorced and she's moved back to New York."
Engaged. I felt the blood drain from my face, my gaze shifting to where the man I loved stood with the woman he must've once loved, his hand moving to the small of her back to steady her as she leaned into him with a laugh.
As my stomach twisted with jealousy and sick fear, it struck me that I'd assumed he had never had a serious romantic relationship before me. Stupid. As hot as he was, I should've known better.
Magdalene touched my shoulder. "You should sit down, Eva. You're very pale."
I knew I was breathing too fast and my speeding pulse rate was dangerously high. "You're right."
Moving to the nearest available chair, I got off my feet. Magdalene sat beside me.
"You love him," she said. "I didn't see it. I'm sorry. And I'm sorry for what I said to you the first time we met."
"You love him, too," I replied woodenly, my gaze unfocused. "And at that time, I didn't. Not yet."
"Doesn't excuse me, does it?"
I gratefully accepted another glass of champagne when it was offered to me and took a second for Magdalene before the waiter straightened to move on. We clinked glasses in a pitiful display of scorned female solidarity. I wanted to leave. I wanted to get up and walk out. I wanted Gideon to realize I'd left, to be forced to leave after me. I wanted him to feel some of the pain I felt. Stupid, immature, hurtful imaginings that made me feel small.
I took comfort from Magdalene sitting silently beside me in commiseration. She knew how it felt to love Gideon and want him too much. That I sensed she was as miserable as I was confirmed what a threat Corinne might be.
Had he been pining for her this whole time? Was she the reason he'd closed himself off from other women?
"There you are."
I looked up as Gideon found me. Of course Corinne was still on his arm and I got the full effect of the two of them as a couple. There were, quite simply, impossibly gorgeous together.
Corinne took a seat beside me and Gideon brushed his fingertips over my cheek. "I have to speak with someone," he said. "Would you like me to bring you back anything?"
"Stoli and cranberry. Make it a double." I needed a buzz. Bad.
"All right." But he frowned at my request before he walked away.
"I'm so glad to meet you, Eva," Corinne said. "Gideon has told me so much about you."
"It can't have been too much. You two weren't gone that long."
"We talk nearly every day." She smiled, and there was nothing fake or malicious in her expression. "We've been friends a long time."
"More than friends," Magdalene said pointedly.
Corinne frowned at Magdalene and I realized I wasn't supposed to know. Was it she or Gideon or both of them that had decided it was best not to tell me? Why cover up something if there was nothing to hide?
"Yes, that's true," she admitted with obvious reluctance. "Although that was some years ago now."
I twisted in my seat to face her. "You still love him."
"You can't blame me for that. Any woman who spends time with him falls in love with him. He's beautiful and untouchable. That's an irresistible combination." Her smile softened. "He tells me you've inspired him to start opening up. I'm grateful to you for that."
I was about to say, I didn't do it for you. Then an insidious doubt drifted through my mind, making a vulnerable spot inside me fold in on itself.
Was I doing it for her without knowing it?
I twisted the base of my empty champagne flute around and around on the table. "He was going to marry you."
"And it was the biggest mistake of my life walking away." Her hand went to her throat, her slender fingers restlessly stroking, as if toying with a necklace she'd normally find there. "I was young and in some ways he frightened me. He was so possessive. It wasn't until after I married that I realized possessiveness is much better than indifference. At least for me."
I looked away, fighting the nausea that rose in my throat.
"You're awfully quiet," she said.