Page 57 of Glass Spinner

Kathleen stood staring at the carpet, her thoughts in a whirl. Veronica had had sex with Darlene Hunt when she left the restaurant. Her stomach turned and she nearly vomited. She locked the door with a decisive twist of the deadbolt and turned back to the quiet apartment.

“She’s gone, Veronica,” she called out.

The bedroom door opened and Veronica stepped out, her expression careful. “That was close,” she said lightly, trying to inject a breath of humour into the tension. “Are you okay?”

Kathleen stared at her, arms crossed, face unreadable. “You heard us talking in the lounge?”

“Snippets. She’s after your invention.”

“Yes, but she’s not going to get it.”

“Good. I wouldn’t trust her an inch.”

Kathleen snorted. “Yet you slept with her,” she said flatly.

Veronica frowned. “I beg your pardon.”

“She recognized your coat at the door,” Kathleen went on, voice cool.

Veronica blinked. “I didn’t sleep with her that night.”

“Don’t lie to me.” Kathleen’s voice cracked. “She stood there gloating like I was an idiot.”

Veronica stiffened. “I haven’t been to bed with her. Whatever she implied, it wasn’t true.”

Kathleen laughed bitterly. “What? Because she would actually care what an escort does?”

“She’s manipulative. You know that,” Veronica said.

“Don’t defend her. Tell me the truth,” Kathleen snapped.

“I am,” Veronica said, her voice rising. “Yes, she paid me to accompany her to your dinner. Yes, she made advances when we got back to her apartment. But I never accepted. I didn’t have sex with her.”

“You expect me to believe that? Isn’t that’s what you do?”

Veronica’s face hardened. “No, it isn’t. Elise would have told you that the Langford is a unique service for men and women who need a partner for events, public appearances, or the occasional lonely evening, without the expectations that come with traditional dating. If we want to go further, it’s up to us.”

The silence that fell between them was bitter, crackling with hurt.

“I’m sorry. I can’t do this,” Kathleen said quietly. “I let you in, I trusted you. I opened myself up to you and now I feel like a complete idiot.”

Veronica looked at her sadly. “Trust goes both ways, Kathleen.”

“Get out.” Kathleen’s hands were shaking now. “Please. Just go.”

Veronica stared at her for a moment, then she nodded slowly. “All right.”

She walked to the door, picked up her coat and turned the lock. As she opened it, she paused, and said in a quiet voice, “Look after yourself, Kathleen.” Then the door clicked shut behind her.

Kathleen sank onto the couch, trembling with anger, confusion, and something worse—grief.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Marise didn’t go straight home. She walked for a long time, with her hands shoved in her coat pockets as she tried to come to grips with what happened. It had been years since she’d felt this disoriented and raw. Kathleen had thrown her out. Not yelled or pleaded, simply told her to go.

And she’d had no option but to leave.

She could still see her face: trembling with hurt and anger, eyes that had looked at her with contempt. Veronica had been a means to an end for Marise, but she had become real to her. For once in her life, she’d been honest, and Kathleen hadn’t believed her.