Chapter 1950
The whiskey had a kick like a mule, and just a tiny sip felt like a flame licking down Ivy’s throat.
“I’m not used to these kinds of gatherings, so I feel a bit out of my element. Giselle, just go and enjoy yourself. Don’t mind me. I’ll be fine sitting here on my own.”
Giselle offered a wry smile, “No way, if you’re a friend of Balfour, I’ve got to make sure you’re taken care of. But…”
She tilted her head slightly, leaning in close to Ivy, “Balfour’s never been much of a social butterfly, let alone with women. You’re the first lady friend he’s ever brought to a party. It sure has me curious. How did you two meet?”
How did they meet?
That was a tricky question.
Ivy frowned, at a loss for words.
She couldn’t exactly spill the beans that her first encounter with Balfour had been in a hotel bed, could she?
That would blow Balfour’s carefully maintained bachelor image out of the water, and Ivy didn’t want to tick him off.
“We just crossed paths through work, and that’s it. Giselle, we’re not close or anything, just acquaintances, really. Don’t pay it any mind.”
Giselle’s expression was inscrutable, her smile unwavering, but she said nothing more.
“Giselle,” Ivy ventured, reversing the question, “how do you know Balfour?”
“We’ve known each other since we were kids. I know all about him, his habits and all. You could say we’re childhood friends!”
Giselle’s smile didn’t reach her eyes as she stared intently at Ivy, as if trying to read her.
After a long look that revealed nothing, Ivy raised her glass and downed the whiskey, her lips curving into a smile.
“You and Balfour, childhood sweethearts, huh?” Ivy commented, keeping her tone light.
Giselle lowered her gaze, her smile turning suggestive, “Yes, we know each other better than anyone else in the world.”
“Giselle, come here!” someone called from across the room.
With a meaningful pat on Ivy’s shoulder, Giselle stood up and walked over to join her friends, leaving Ivy alone in the corner, utterly disconnected from the revelry across the room.
Feeling out of place, Ivy slipped out of the private room, sensing that Balfour didn’t need her there.
Back in the main hall, she found a quiet corner to stand in.
Leaning against the balcony railing, Ivy looked out at the bright world beyond, beautiful yet seemingly indifferent to her.
The disparities between people seemed predestined from birth.
Take Giselle, stunning and poised, who gained legions of fans after her first acting role and whose career sailed smoothly thereafter.
Ivy, on the other hand, felt utterly ordinary by comparison.
Shaking her head, Ivy cast aside those self-pitying thoughts.
Once she paid off Balfour’s three million and played her part as his wife for a year, she’d be free to live her own life.
The most important thing now was making money!
Ivy turned to leave but stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of Nolan.
