"Harry!"
A woman in a silver sequined dress descended on their table. Bianca Sterling.
Harrison sighed, audible only to Angelina. He didn't stand up.
"Bianca," he nodded.
She put a hand on his shoulder, staking her claim. Then she looked at the Kanes. "Brittain! And... Angelina, right?"
"Hello, Bianca," Angelina said.
Bianca froze. Her head snapped toward Angelina. Her eyes narrowed. "Say that again."
"Excuse me?"
"That..." Bianca said slowly, her eyes scanning Angelina's face, searching. "It's not your voice. It's... the pause. That sharp, impatient little hiss of breath you take right before you speak. I heard it. On the phone that morning, right before the line went dead." She trailed off, looking from Angelina to Harrison. The gears were turning. "Harry, who was that woman who answered your phone the other morning?"
The table went silent. Brittain looked confused. "What woman?"
"Harrison had a woman in his hotel room," Bianca said, her eyes accusing. "And whatever she did, she sounded just as condescending as your wife."
Angelina's blood turned to ice. Brittain was looking at her now, a frown creasing his forehead.
"That's ridiculous," Brittain said. "Angelina was at the spa."
"Was she?" Bianca challenged. "Harrison?"
Harrison swirled his wine. "Bianca, you're making a scene."
"I want to know!" Bianca's voice rose. People at nearby tables were looking.
Angelina saw the suspicion growing in Brittain's eyes. She had to stop this. Now.
She reached for the pitcher of ice water on the table. With a clumsy, jerking motion, she knocked it over.
The water cascaded directly onto Bianca's silver dress.
"Oh my god!" Angelina shrieked. "I am so clumsy! I am so sorry!"
Bianca screamed. "My dress! You idiot! This is vintage Dior!"
Chaos erupted. Waiters rushed over with napkins. Brittain was apologizing profusely. Bianca was hysterical about water stains.
In the mayhem, Harrison caught Angelina's eye. He winked.
