Never Tell

“Do you want me to bid on the spa weekend?”

Lillian blinked, realizing Morton had spoken. “What?”

“The spa weekend,” he repeated with some irritation. “What’s the matter with you tonight, Lillian? You’ve been off in la-la land ever since we got here. I don’t know what John Molinara thought with you standing there like a mannequin. You didn’t say ten words. Hell, I thought you’d be tickled pink with Hunter making an appearance for the first time in years. It’s no wonder he disappeared. Probably remembered why he hates these things and left.”

“Sorry,” she said, still twiddling with the brooch. “I did hear you invite John and Rita to dinner. I’ll make it up to them then.”

“Glad to hear it.” He took her arm in a firm grasp. “The auction’s getting under way. Let’s move a little closer. Neither of us is looking forward to this part of the evening, but take my advice and do what I’m doing, just close your eyes and don’t look when they put up the Erica Stewart piece. And you never answered. Do you want me to bid on the spa weekend?”

“I’m not upset because something by Erica will be auctioned. I’m upset because I realize that Hunter is here because of her, Morton. The reason he disappeared is that they left together for a while, just the two of them.”

“Oh, come on. You’re imagining things.”

“I didn’t imagine anything. I saw them.” She didn’t tell him about the kiss.

Morton still scanned the room. “Where is he now?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t think he’d leave without telling me. I also don’t see him having much interest in the auction…unless he wants to bid on Erica’s piece.” She touched her forehead. “This whole evening has been so stressful. I’m not like you, Morton. I just can’t be around her and not be reminded. I’m not able to put this out of my mind and go on with life as if nothing happened. I never will be.”

He finally lost his temper. “It’s ancient history!” he hissed in her ear. “Stop dwelling on it. You talk about this to anybody—anybody, Lillian—and everything we’ve worked for is down the tubes. I mean it. I want that appointment from the president, and it’s dead, lost forever, if I’m even touched by a breath of scandal.”

“Don’t worry,” she whispered, with a catch in her voice. “I’m the last person to ever talk about it.”

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