C3 The Scandal

Evelyn woke to the sound of a phone vibrating beneath the bed.

For one confused moment, she did not know where she was. Then she saw the carved ceiling, the pale curtains, and Douglas asleep on the bed a few feet away. His jacket lay over a chair. His shirt was wrinkled. One hand rested against his chest, rising and falling with a steadiness that had not been there hours earlier.

The phone vibrated again.

Evelyn bent to retrieve it.

“Do not answer that.”

She straightened. “You are awake.”

“I have been awake.”

“For how long?”

“Long enough to hear you breathing like you were running.”

“I was not running.”

“You were dreaming.”

“I do not remember dreaming.”

“You were saying something.”

Evelyn’s fingers tightened around the phone. “What was I saying?”

“I could not understand you.”

“Then it was not important.”

Douglas pushed himself upright. The movement was slow, cautious. He pressed his fingertips to his temple and shut his eyes.

“Headache?”

“Yes.”

“Nausea?”

“A little.”

“Dizziness?”

“When I move.”

“Then do not move.”

He opened one eye. “You are still giving orders.”

“You are still ignoring them.”

“Where is the medic?”

“He left before dawn.”

“And you stayed.”

“You asked me to.”

“I was not myself.”

“No. You were not.”

The words landed between them more heavily than Evelyn intended.

Douglas looked at her properly for the first time since waking. “Did I do anything?”

“No.”

“Did I say anything?”

“Yes.”

“What did I say?”

“That you did not want anyone to know you were afraid.”

His face hardened. “I said that?”

“Yes.”

“Anything else?”

“You asked me to stay.”

“Why?”

“Because you were frightened.”

“I do not frighten easily.”

“You did last night.”

His mouth almost softened, but the expression vanished when the phone vibrated again.

“Give it to me.”

“It is not yours.”

“Then who is calling?”

“I do not know.”

“Show me.”

Evelyn glanced at the screen. There were eleven missed calls from the hotel manager, four from her aunt, and a message from an unknown number.

You should leave before the family finds you.

Below it was a photograph.

Evelyn’s breath stopped.

“What is it?” Douglas asked.

“Nothing.”

“Your face changed.”

“It is only a message.”

“From whom?”

“I said I do not know.”

“Give me the phone.”

She should have hidden it. Instead, she handed it to him.

Douglas looked at the photograph.

The image showed him sitting on the edge of the bed, his shirt open at the throat. Evelyn stood between his knees, one hand against his chest and the other tangled in his hair. Her face was turned toward his. His eyes were closed.

It looked intimate.

It looked deliberate.

It looked like a moment she would have kept in the deepest part of her heart if it had ever truly happened.

Douglas’s expression went blank.

“Where did this come from?”

“I do not know.”

“There are more.”

He swiped.

Another image showed Evelyn kneeling beside him. A third showed his arm around her waist. A fourth showed her face close to his mouth.

“They were taken in this room,” he said.

“Yes.”

“Did you take them?”

Evelyn stared at him. “No.”

“Did you ask someone to take them?”

“No.”

“Did you touch me?”

“I helped you drink water.”

“That is not what the photographs show.”

“The photographs are edited.”

“Are they?”

“You were drugged. You could barely keep your eyes open.”

“I remember being here with you.”

“You remember fragments.”

“I remember your hand on my face.”

“You were wet.”

“That is not what I asked.”

“Your mouth was dry. You were sweating. I wiped your face.”

Douglas stood too quickly.

Evelyn reached for him. “Sit down.”

“Do not touch me.”

She stopped.

The pain was small compared with what would come later, but it found the old place in her where every rejection had been stored.

Douglas saw her hand fall to her side.

“I did not mean”

“You meant it.”

“I meant that I need to understand what happened.”

“So do I.”

“Call her.”

Evelyn pressed the number.

Her aunt answered on the first ring. “Evelyn, where are you?”

“In the east guest room.”

“With him?”

“Yes.”

“Do not leave that room.”

“Why?”

“The hotel manager is outside the corridor. Douglas’s father is with him, and there are reporters at the entrance.”

Douglas reached for the phone. “Put her on speaker.”

Evelyn did.

Douglas took the phone from her hand. “Tell my father no one enters this room.”

“Douglas—”

“No one.”

“He wants you to speak to the press.”

“Not yet.”

“He says silence will make it worse.”

“Then he can explain why his son was drugged at his welcome-home gala.”

The door opened.

A tall woman stood in the doorway wearing a cream dress, a concerned expression, and the same silver bracelet Evelyn had seen beside the ballroom corridor.

Douglas looked at her. “Vivian.”

The woman’s eyes widened with relief. “You are awake.”

Evelyn felt the room change around her.

Vivian stepped inside. “I have been so worried.”

Douglas moved toward her. “How did you get past the security?”

“Your father let me through.”

“You should not be here.”

“I needed to see you.”

Her gaze moved to Evelyn. It was warm for exactly one second. Then it became fragile.

“Is she the server?” Vivian asked.

Evelyn’s hands went numb.

Douglas frowned. “Her name is Evelyn.”

“I am sorry.” Vivian lowered her eyes. “I did not mean to sound rude.”

“You did,” Evelyn said.

Vivian looked wounded. “I only asked a question.”

“You already knew my name.”

“Did I?”

“You heard him say it.”

Evelyn looked at the bracelet. “You were near his drink.”

Vivian’s expression faltered. “Excuse me?”

“You were watching him.”

“I was watching the room.”

“You were speaking to Marcus about the cameras.”

Vivian’s eyes turned frightened. “Douglas, I do not know what she is talking about.”

“You were there,” Evelyn said.

“I was at the gala. So were hundreds of people.”

“You wore that bracelet.”

Vivian touched it as if surprised to find it on her wrist. “This old thing?”

“It was not old when I saw it.”

Douglas stepped between them. “Evelyn, stop.”

The room went silent.

Vivian’s hand rose to her mouth. “I did not accuse her of anything.”

“I know,” Douglas said.

Evelyn watched Douglas’s anger weaken. She knew that look. She had seen it in the Hulwart house years ago, whenever Vivian was hurt and Douglas rushed to defend her.

Vivian whispered, “I only wanted to know that you were safe.”

Douglas looked away.

Evelyn felt the future narrowing around her.

A knock sounded at the door.

“Mr. Hulwart,” a man called from the corridor. “Your father wants an immediate statement.”

Douglas did not answer.

The man continued, “The company’s board is demanding one. The photographs are affecting the market.”

Vivian stepped closer to Douglas. “You need to think about your reputation.”

Evelyn looked at her. “That is what you wanted, is it not?”

Vivian’s face crumpled. “I do not know what you mean.”

“You wanted him to choose you.”

Douglas turned sharply. “Evelyn.”

She met his eyes. “That is what I heard you say.”

Vivian’s tears spilled over. “Douglas, I would never do this to you.”

He moved toward her.

Evelyn’s heart sank before he spoke.

“Vivian, calm down.”

The door opened wider. Cameras flashed from the corridor.

Someone shouted, “Is that the woman in the photographs?”

Another voice called, “Mr. Hulwart, did the server seduce you?”

Evelyn flinched.

Douglas reached for her, but stopped before touching her.

Vivian took his arm.

“Please,” she whispered. “Get me away from them.”

Douglas looked from Vivian to Evelyn.

For one brief second, Evelyn thought he might see the choice being placed in front of him.

Then he turned toward Vivian.

“Stay here,” he told Evelyn.

Her lips parted. “What?”

“I will handle this.”

“With her?”

“I said I will handle it.”

“You are leaving me here while everyone outside calls me a predator.”

His expression tightened. “Do not make this worse.”

Evelyn stood very still.

Vivian lowered her head against his shoulder, hiding the satisfaction that passed through her eyes.

Douglas did not see it.

He led Vivian out of the room.

The door closed behind them.

Evelyn remained beside the bed, surrounded by the photographs, the discarded glass, and the faint scent of silver-bracelet perfume.

Her aunt called again.

This time, Evelyn did not answer.

She looked at the image on the phone: Douglas’s eyes closed, her hand at his face, the truth cut apart and rearranged until it resembled a lie.

Then the phone received one final message.

By noon, the whole country will believe you trapped him.