Chapter 2

The words were barely out of her mouth before the whole room burst into laughter. The nose-ring guy jabbed a finger at me, his face twisted with mockery.

"A big client who won't sign a contract? Is she out of her mind?"

"Ha, she's betting on a hundred-million-dollar deal between the boss and the Swanson family? Does she even know what she's saying?"

"I'm dying here. The richest person she's ever met is the lady frying breakfast omelets down the alley, and now she's talking about big-shot clients."

The man in the floral shirt looked like he'd just heard the joke of the year, doubling over with laughter.

"Oh, I get it. Big sis here can't wait to keep her little brothers company, so she's tossing us softballs."

"The client called Mr. Abbott himself, said he wanted to come pay respects to his mother on her birthday. If that's not the man wanting to work with the Swansons, what is it?"

As he spoke, the floral-shirt guy reached over with a hairy hand.

"Big sis, I'll eat this cockroach. If you lose, what are you going to do for your little brother?"

"Do for you? Come on, big sis has all kinds of tricks up her sleeve."

"Margie already told us everything. She bought the red lace special, all kinds of good stuff. Filthy and fun."

And with that, the man in the floral shirt yanked out that red thong and dangled it in front of my eyes.

"Big sis, Margie had Mr. Abbott bring your battle gear along just for us. When you lose, you're going to slip it on and give us a little dance."

Shame and fury swept through me all at once. My face burned as I reached out to snatch the thong back.

"Give it here. What do you think you're doing?"

The men just held it up higher, dodging, still jeering at me.

"Big sis, you can't even wait? We'll go put it on out back in a minute."

"No wonder she's got Mr. Abbott hooked. When she gets this raunchy, she just can't hold back. Man, I can't take it."

A pack of street thugs, one line after another, humiliating me right there in front of everyone.

On our first anniversary, Martin said he wanted a taste of something new and bought me racy lingerie, coaxing me into a new kind of night.

I never imagined he'd take what happened between a husband and wife and turn it into a joke for Margery Fox.

Every one of them tore into me without holding back, their eyes full of swagger and contempt.

And through all of it, Martin sat there looking smug, like none of it touched him.

A sharp pain shot through my chest. I turned to him, furious.

"Martin, are you sure you want me sitting here and letting these people humiliate me?"

Margery was leaning against his arm, and she pouted at once, playing hurt.

"Martin, what's your wife trying to say? Does she look down on my friends?"

"It's just a bet. She's not picking a fight with you on purpose, is she? Trying to force you to break the deal?"

Martin lifted his hand right away and gave Margery's cheek a doting pinch.

"When have I ever lost a bet with you?"

"Tonight it's whatever you want. You get the seat of honor, and you get to see a real big shot up close."

The whole crowd started egging them on.

"Margie's got game. Mr. Abbott's a class act, always keeps his word."

"Margie's Martin's dream girl. When has Martin ever told her no?"

Margery pressed in closer, her eyes fixed on me full of scorn.

Martin smoothed the loose strands of her hair, then glanced up at me with a light smile.

"Cecilia, you're the lady of the Swanson house. Wherever you sit, you're still hosting the guests, aren't you?"

"People in show business are a little more free-spirited. Don't make such a fuss over nothing."

With Martin's promise in hand, the men got even more worked up, crowding in and pulling at me.

My heart sank. I looked at the bottle on the table, grabbed it, and smashed it down on the nose-ring guy's head.

"Get your filthy paws off me. This is my home. Keep this up and get out."

The whole room froze. A few guests who'd been trickling in turned to look.

Three seconds later, the nose-ring guy exploded, his palm cracking across my face.

"You parentless little stray, your home? If you hadn't thrown yourself at him like a shameless slut, you think Martin would ever have wanted you?"

"Let me spell it out for you. Margie is the real Mrs. Abbott, the lady of the Swanson house. She's already carrying Martin's child."