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Sloane might have been dressed nicely, but the mirror didn’t lie. She’d taken great pains to do her hair and makeup, but the increased steroid dosage had made her face swell, and no amount of concealer could hide the bags under her eyes. She felt worse than ever, and it had been a gargantuan effort to put herself together. But she wasn’t about to have the conversation she planned to have with Whit sitting in her bed, feeling helpless.
“Whit and I are having dinner together tonight, so I’m afraid you’ll have to make other plans.” She took pleasure in the shocked look on Athena’s face.
Athena quickly recovered. “That’s wonderful, Sloane.”
“Yes, well. I didn’t want you to come running when you heard my door open. Also…” She hated having to ask. “I could use your help on the stairs. My legs are not feeling too steady.”
“Of course.”
Athena helped her navigate to the living room. “I’ll wait here until Whit gets home. Why don’t you take a break for a while?” Sloane said.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. You deserve it.” Sloane didn’t want her skulking around, overhearing their conversation.
“It’s nice to see you feeling better,” Athena said.
“Thank you. Can you hand me my phone? I’d like to check to see if Emmy’s flight has landed.”
Athena walked over to the table and brought it to her. “Here you go. I know you must be happy that she was able to come see you, since she won’t make it back for Thanksgiving.”
Sloane froze.How did Athena know that?Emmy had called a few days ago to tell her she wasn’t going to make it back for the holiday. Was Athena somehow listening in on her calls? Or maybe she’d somehow tapped into Sloane’s cellphone. Was that even possible?
Athena cleared her throat. “Whit mentioned that she wasn’t coming. Didn’t mean to bring your mood down.”
“It’s okay,” Sloane said.
“Well, I’ll be going, then. Be back in a few hours. How about if I bring you an iced tea before I go?”
“Thank you,” Sloane said absently.
After Athena had gone, she picked up the glass of tea, checking for anything floating in it before taking a sip. As she drank, she rehearsed what she wanted to say to Whit until she heard the front door chime announce his arrival at five thirty.
“I’m in here,” she called out.
Whit walked in, a surprised look on his face. “Well, this is a treat! You must be feeling better. You look wonderful.”
His tone was oversolicitous, almost patronizing, she thought testily. “Amazing how grown up one feels to actually get dressed and leave the bedroom.”
“Is everything all right?” He went over to the bar and poured himself a bourbon. “Can I add some ice to your tea?”
She handed him her glass. “Sure.”
He turned back to the cart and added three ice cubes. “Here you go,” he said, and then took the chair across from her. “You seem angry.”
“You’re very astute. There are a few things I’d like cleared up. First off, what time did you finally come in last night? I waited up until after midnight.”
He took a sip and studied her before answering. “I’m not too crazy about your tone. You know I had a meeting with Fred. We had a lot to cover. We went back to my office and worked until around one.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Do you really expect me to believe that? I saw the picture. I know you were with her.”
“With who?”
“Don’t play dumb! With Madelyn.”
His eyebrows shot up. “What picture?”
She pulled out her phone and went to Madelyn’s Instagram page. “I saw a picture on her story last night. In her limo. Your arm was around her. I could tell because of the scar on your wrist.” She frowned as she scrolled through, but the picture was gone. “She must have deleted it.” She berated herself for not having taken a screenshot. She looked up at Whit. “It was there. I…” She couldn’t have imagined it, could she?