Chapter 2 - Adrian Had Prepared a Lie Before Rosalie Asked the Question"Nothing happened."
Adrian said it too quickly.
Rosalie stared at him.
Sienna stared at the floor.
"Nothing?"
"She came here because we had an emergency with the Fairfield project."
Rosalie looked toward the bed.
One pillow was on the floor.
The comforter had been pulled back unevenly.
A champagne flute sat beside Adrian's side.
She didn't drink champagne.
Adrian rarely did either.
"An emergency."
"Yes."
"In our bedroom?"
"We were downstairs."
"Then why is she in my closet?"
Adrian rubbed his forehead.
"Because you came home unexpectedly."
Rosalie almost laughed.
"That makes it worse, Adrian."
"No, listen."
"I am."
Sienna finally stepped out.
"Mrs. Mercer—"
Rosalie looked at her.
"Sienna, don't call me that right now."
Sienna swallowed.
"Rosalie."
Adrian interrupted.
"She panicked."
Rosalie turned back toward him.
"Why would an employee panic because her boss's wife came home?"
Silence.
"Exactly."
Adrian stepped closer.
"I knew how this would look."
"How does it look?"
"Bad."
"Try again."
"Rosalie."
"How does it look?"
He sighed.
"Like something happened."
"Did something happen?"
"No."
Rosalie looked toward Sienna.
"Did something happen?"
Sienna's lips parted.
Adrian immediately said:
"Don't drag her into this."
Rosalie stared.
"She's standing barefoot in my closet wearing the necklace you told me was mine."
Sienna's face tightened.
Rosalie noticed.
She turned toward her.
"Did he tell you the necklace was for me?"
Sienna looked at Adrian.
There it was again.
That glance.
Permission.
Coordination.
History.
Rosalie's stomach turned.
"Sienna."
"No."
Her voice was barely audible.
"He didn't."
Rosalie nodded.
"What did he tell you?"
Adrian said sharply:
"Enough."
Rosalie ignored him.
Sienna reached toward the necklace.
"He said it was a gift."
"For what?"
No answer.
"Your birthday?"
"No."
"Promotion?"
Sienna shook her head.
Rosalie waited.
Sienna finally whispered:
"He said he saw it and thought of me."
Adrian closed his eyes.
Rosalie felt something break.
Not dramatically.
No explosion.
A small internal sound.
The collapse of a fact she'd trusted.
Adrian had stood in their kitchen three nights ago showing her the jeweler's photograph.
He'd said:
I saw this and thought of you.
The exact same sentence.
He hadn't even changed the lie.
Rosalie laughed once.
It sounded unfamiliar.
Adrian stepped toward her.
"I can explain the necklace."
"I'm sure you can."
"I bought two."
Sienna looked at him.
That reaction was immediate.
Surprise.
Rosalie caught it.
"Did he?"
Sienna said nothing.
Rosalie turned.
"You bought two identical necklaces?"
"Similar."
"Where's mine?"
"At the jeweler."
"Which jeweler?"
"Rosalie—"
"Which jeweler?"
"Montrose."
She knew the store.
High-end.
Downtown Manhattan.
Rosalie reached for her phone.
Adrian grabbed her wrist.
Not hard.
But enough.
She looked down at his hand.
He immediately released her.
"Don't call them."
"Why?"
"Because this is ridiculous."
"Then it should be easy."
Adrian's jaw tightened.
For the first time, irritation replaced panic.
That frightened Rosalie more.
Adrian did not become angry when misunderstood.
He became angry when control stopped working.
"This is our marriage," he said.
"Correct."
"Then stop interrogating my employee."
"Your employee is wearing my birthday gift."
"It isn't yours."
Rosalie became completely still.
Adrian realized the mistake.
Too late.
She repeated:
"It isn't mine."
"I mean this specific necklace."
"So there are two."
"Yes."
Sienna whispered:
"Adrian."
He turned sharply.
"Not now."
Rosalie watched.
That tone.
Familiar.
Intimate.
Not boss to assistant.
Partner to partner.
She looked at Sienna.
"How long?"
Sienna's face collapsed.
Adrian stepped between them.
"She doesn't owe you answers."
Rosalie stared at him.
Then something inside her became very clear.
He was protecting Sienna.
Not Rosalie.
Not the marriage.
Not their daughter downstairs trying to understand why Miss Sienna had been hiding in Mommy's closet.
Sienna.
Rosalie walked toward the bedroom door.
Adrian followed.
"Where are you going?"
"Downstairs."
"We need to talk."
"We are not doing this with Lily in the house."
"Then we'll send her to your sister's."
Rosalie turned.
"No."
Adrian blinked.
"Lily isn't being removed from her home so you can comfortably explain why your assistant was hiding in our closet."
"Rosalie."
"She and I are leaving."
"You're not taking her."
That stopped her.
Adrian's expression had changed.
Cold now.
Businesslike.
"You don't get to take our daughter somewhere because you're upset."
Rosalie stared.
Twenty minutes earlier, she'd thought her husband was embarrassed.
Now she understood he was already thinking strategically.
Custody.
Appearance.
Narrative.
She had spent ten years watching Adrian negotiate multimillion-dollar deals.
He always moved quickly after bad news.
Rosalie looked toward Sienna.
Then back at him.
"How long have you been planning for me to find out?"
Adrian frowned.
"What?"
"You already knew what you'd say."
"That's insane."
"Maybe."
She opened the bedroom door.
Then noticed something on the floor near the closet.
Sienna's handbag.
Half-hidden beneath a chair.
The top was open.
Inside sat a small velvet jewelry box.
Montrose.
Rosalie looked at Adrian.
Then at Sienna.
Adrian moved first.
But Rosalie was closer.
She picked up the box.
"Don't."
Sienna's voice came suddenly.
Rosalie opened it.
Empty.
On the inside lid, stamped beneath the Montrose logo, were four embossed words.
CUSTOM COMMISSION — A & S
Rosalie looked up.
Adrian's face told her everything.
There weren't two necklaces.
There had never been two.
May you like
And whatever "A & S" meant—
it had never meant Adrian and Rosalie.
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