Chapter １１

"The last time I saw you smile like that was when Laura was still alive."

I stop walking and wait, posing myself behind a marble bust of some dead white guy.

Gabriel continues. "You asked me to investigate her accident…"

Percy rounds the corner and sees me crouching behind the statue. Before he can approach me I take off down the hall, turning down every new hallway that I come to in order to lose him. I'm successful, but now I'm hopelessly lost. Bellegarde Manor is enormous. It could probably house twelve average sized families comfortably, and they'd never have to see each other.

I wander around, noticing that I've never been to this part of the house before. That's understandable, as the only parts of the house I've seen so far are my bedroom, the kitchen, the entry salon, and the banquet hall. A small portion of the entire thing.

There are pictures on the walls here, covering the entire hallway. I slow down in order to look at them. Many are old, ancient, black and white, showing faces that didn't smile. No one ever smiled in photos back in the old days. They all have the same backdrop of rolling hills, which I assume would be green if they didn't appear grey in the pictures. All the people in them look tired, holding tools or sitting astride horses. It isn't until the end of the hall that the pictures become colorized and the subjects' surroundings become more lavish. I guess the Bellegardes weren't always rich real estate tycoons.

I hear footsteps behind me. Percy. I turn another corner and wait there silently until the footsteps pass. A small fireplace is nearby, and I grab a poker from an iron rack. The footsteps come closer and closer, as if Percy knows exactly where I am.

I raise the poker above my head and say, "I told you, Percy, stay away from me!"

But then he comes into view and it isn't Percy. It's Vincent. He doesn't appear at all surprised to see that I'm wielding a weapon.

"What are you doing?" I ask him, lowering the poker.

Vincent shrugs. "Walking. I saw you running around and thought you might be lost. Ow!"

He jerks back and I look down. When I lowered the poker, I accidentally drove it straight into his hand. My stupid clumsy ass…

"Oh no, I'm so sorry!" I cry out.

"It's fine." Vincent takes a handkerchief from his blazer pocket and wraps his hand in it.

"You're bleeding!"

"It's fine, really."

I grab his good hand and pull him along.

"What are you doing?" he asks.

"We have to clean that or it'll get infected."

Vincent follows me up to my bathroom where I sit him on the toilet and search the medicine cabinet for bandages. I find some, along with some neosporin, and I wet a small towel to clean his hand before I apply the bandage.

"It's really fine," he says, patiently allowing me to wrap his hand. "It's barely more than a scratch."

"I'm so sorry." I tie off the bandage and he winces. "I'm so clumsy. I've always been clumsy."

"Didn't you major in dance?" He pulls his bandaged hand away and flexes it, then places it in his lap.

I nod. "Yes, but it took me an extra year to finish. I majored in dance because I'm so clumsy. I thought it would help. But…"

"Can I take you to lunch? I know a great place."

My mind flies to Sterling, wondering if I'd need his approval. Then I remember that Sterling and I aren't a real couple and no one controls me. I smile at him.

"Are you this sweet to everyone you know?" I ask.

He laughs at that. He has dimples. "Only those that deserve it. So, are you in?"

"Sure, thanks. Sounds fun. I just need to get ready."

Vincent stands and heads out of the bathroom and bedroom. He turns at the door and says, "Thank you. For this, I mean." He waves his hurt hand. "I'll have a car waiting for us out front in two hours."

He smiles and looks at me for a bit longer than usual, and he leaves as I stand there wondering what's going on in his mind. Then something occurs to me…

Did Vincent love Laura?

I shower, do my hair and makeup, get dressed in a simple blouse and skirt. This isn't a date, I remind myself. It's just a friendly lunch.

But why shouldn't it be a date? I ask myself. Sterling and I aren't a real couple. But would I like us to be one? I really do like Sterling. Despite all my efforts to hate him, I find that I really enjoy being with him, and I think he enjoys me as well.

Today, though, just have fun at lunch and don't read too much into it.

I finish getting ready, and it's time to go, so I head down the hall to the main stairway, and as I pass one of the bedroom doors, I stop. I hear something behind it. Heavy breathing. Moaning.

"Does your wife do this for you?" It's Paula's voice.

I grab the door handle and turn it very slowly. I push the door open half an inch, just enough to see inside the room.

Paula and Sterling are in her bed. Sterling is on top with his shirt off, and the rest of him is covered in a bedsheet. Paula is naked, her legs wrapped tightly around Sterling's waist. They're both panting, going at it like athletes. Then Paula's eyes drift over to the door and meet mine. She looks at me and smiles.

Sterling follows her gaze and sees me staring, and I shut the door and walk away. The door opens immediately and Sterling yells after me, "Victoria!"

I turn and look at him with an innocent questioning look. "Yes?"

"That was… Did you… I mean… I can…" Sterling doesn't know what to say, and I can't blame him. It's an awkward situation. "I'm sorry!" he finally says.

"For what?" I smile at him. "We aren't a real couple." I turn to leave.

"Where are you going?" he asks.

"None of your business."

"You're my wife, I want to know where you're going."

I glare at him. "Before I can play the part of your wife, maybe you should learn how to play the part of a husband."