Page 101 of Tattered (Lark Cove 1)

It was tempting. All I had to do was change my address, but the idea of moving here made me sick. Yet so did the thought of leaving Logan.

“Where’s Charlie tonight?” Nolan asked. “You didn’t leave her with his family, did you?”

“Uh . . . no.” I gave him a sideways glance. “She’s at the penthouse with Piper. But now I’m even more nervous about meeting his parents. Thanks for that.”

Nolan chuckled. “That’s not what I meant. They’re great people. But I’m sure Charlie will have a much better night with Piper. She loves kids and has been chomping at the bit to spend time with Logan’s daughter. Charlie will have much more fun with Piper than she would at the Kendrick estate. It’s, shall we say, stuffy.”

Stuffy. As in rich. As in don’t touch the valuables. I made a mental note to talk to Charlie in private before we went to the estate tomorrow. I didn’t want her playing with anything that I couldn’t afford to replace if broken.

“Ladies and gentlemen, if I could please have your attention.” The emcee took the stage in the middle of the dance floor and began his spiel.

Logan had told me the fundraiser was for an organization dedicated to improving the quality of life for people below the poverty line. After ten minutes of the speaker’s pitch, I’d had enough and it had just started.

On and on he droned, talking about how the poor people in the city, or “the unfortunate,” desperately needed the donations from “New York’s finest.” The irony of my entire situation ruined my appetite. I didn’t touch a bit of the salmon sashimi with olive lemon-mustard emulsion. When he began speaking about how there were people in the city going without phones or internet service, the “essentials,” I nearly choked on my mango parfait.

“Puke,” I muttered.

“What was that?” Logan asked, leaning in closer.

“Sorry.” Damn you, champagne. “I meant to say that in my head.”

Nolan must have heard me too because he chuckled. “You don’t approve of the message?”

I scoffed. “You know what ‘the unfortunate’ need? Essentials. Real essentials. Enough food so they can eat three times a day, every day. They need enough quarters to go to the laundry mat every week. They need tampons, for Christ’s sake. What they don’t need are some rich people sitting in a ballroom feeling sorry for them because they don’t have internet or cable TV.”

I ended my rant on a huff, then looked up from the spoon I’d been clutching in my fist. All eyes around the table were on me.

“Thea.” Logan put his hand on my knee.

Goddamn it. I knew this would happen. I knew I’d embarrass him. I didn’t belong here and I had no clue how to act or what to say.

The sting of tears pricked my eyes, but I couldn’t cry in front of these people.

“Excuse me,” I whispered, setting down my spoon.

Before Logan could protest, I was out of my chair, walking as quickly as I could in my uncomfortable heels to t

he back of the ballroom. I slipped out the door, breathing a sigh of relief when the hallway was empty.

“Don’t cry.” I looked up at the ceiling and took a long breath. Then another. When the sting in my nose eased, I clicked down the hall toward the restroom.

I opened the door and hurried through the sitting room to the actual restroom. Then I picked the middle mirror and checked my face.

Despite the sick feeling in my stomach, at least I looked pretty.

Whoever my parents were, I owed them one bit of thanks. They’d given me thick hair and flawless skin. I didn’t have to wear much makeup, usually just eyeliner and mascara. And my hair had a natural sheen most women couldn’t pay for.

Logan had offered to bring in a stylist for me tonight, but I’d opted to get ready myself. Charlie had sat on the counter in his bathroom, watching as I’d carefully applied eyeshadow, blush and lipstick. Then I’d straightened my hair into shining panels that hung down my back.

And though I’d been in such a rush to pick this dress yesterday, it was gorgeous. The top had a simple, sleeveless cut with a crew neckline. It was covered with fine lace, giving it an elegant touch. Only the front had a strip of lace missing, running from the collar down my cleavage to right above my waist, making it sexy and a little badass.

The full-length skirt flowed when I walked and had a long slit up the front. There were even hidden pockets for my lip gloss. It was made by some designer who made gowns for actresses going to award shows. This poor dress wouldn’t get much use, stuffed in the back of my closet in Lark Cove.

I didn’t belong in this fancy dress or elegant bathroom. I might not be the right woman for Logan, but I was here for tonight. I was his for tonight.

And I owed him an apology.

I reapplied some lip gloss and fixed a misplaced strand of hair, then left the restroom. I opened the door to the hallway but stopped short.