One Night, Two Secrets. Katherine Garbera

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      “Yeah. I mean no. I don’t know,” she admitted to her assistant. “This isn’t going like I planned.”

      Billie laughed in that honest way of hers and Scarlet couldn’t help smiling. “When does it ever? What’s going on here? You haven’t told me a single deet except you wanted to reconnect with that guy you met in Houston.”

      Scarlet took her sunglasses off and glanced at her friend, trying to find the words. But they still escaped her. This was the kind of situation Tara had always found herself in. Usually Scarlet prided herself on being smarter about her personal life.

      “It’s complicated,” she said.

      “I’m all ears,” Billie said.

      “Well, I can’t say too much here,” Scarlet said, glancing around at all the people gathering on the observation deck to watch the match. There was a bar set up and a small buffet table. The conversation was about the Velasquez brothers; apparently one of them was married to the British jewelry heiress Phillipa Hamilton-Hoff.

      “Later, then?” Billie asked.

      Scarlet nodded.

      “Do you need me? I thought I’d go back to the house and check on Siobahn and then go grocery shopping. I have two interviews lined up for later this evening with private chefs but I’m probably going to have to cook dinner tonight,” Billie said.

      Billie was obviously busy, and a part of Scarlet knew she should just let her get on with her job. What was she going to say to Billie?

      “Scar?”

      She just shrugged and shoved her glasses back on her face and turned away. The quick movement made her stomach churn.

       Crap.

      She didn’t want to throw up here. She couldn’t.

      But she felt the bile in the back of her throat and put her hand in front of her mouth.

      “Bathroom?” she said to Billie.

      “Shit. Too far,” Billie said, quickly realizing that Scarlet was going to throw up. Billie grabbed her hand and they started running away from the crowd as the first chukka of the polo match got under way. Billie drew her behind the side of the barn in the nick of time and Scarlet was sick while Billie squeezed her shoulder and held her hair out of the way.

      When her stomach was empty, Billie handed her a water bottle and she rinsed her mouth and spit before standing up and turning to her friend. She’d lost her sunglasses somewhere and she needed them.

      She liked the illusion that she was invisible hiding behind the large-framed glasses. And as she saw the surprised look Billie’s brown eyes, she knew she needed to hide. Her friend wasn’t going to buy any excuse. She knew for a fact that Scarlet had been on a detox, eating and drinking healthy.

      “You’re pregnant?”

      Scarlet swallowed, her throat dry and sore. “Yes. But it’s complicated.”

      “The father is that Mauricio guy?” Billie asked, taking a few steps away from Scarlet and picking up her sunglasses from the ground.

      She handed them to Scarlet and she put them on. “I thought so. But the guy has a twin brother. They switched places that night.”

      “Okay, obviously we are mad about this. What do you want me to do? I can reach out to our press contacts and start a smear—”

      “Not yet. I don’t even know this guy. He invited me to join him and his family for brunch after the match. I was hoping you’d come with me,” Scarlet said.

      “Oh, hell yes, I’ll be there. What’s his name?” Billie asked, pulling her smartphone from her pocket.

      “Alejandro Velasquez,” Scarlet said.

      “Shit, are you kidding?”

      “Do you think I’d joke about that? Why? Who is he?”

      “Well, let me do a quick internet search to confirm it but I’m pretty sure he’s a tech genius who owns a billion-dollar software company.”

      “So why would he do something so immature, like pretending to be his brother?” Scarlet asked. “B, what am I going to do? You know my family... I thought—”

      “I’ll do some research while you watch the match. Then at this brunch thing we can see what kind of family he has, what kind of people they are. Maybe the switching-places thing was innocent. Whatever happens you’ve got me by your side,” Billie said as she hugged Scarlet.

      She wasn’t alone. Why, then, did she always feel that way? Billie was the best assistant she’d ever had but, in a way, she was just like the nanny Scarlet and Tara had shared growing up. Paid family. Though she knew Billie wasn’t with her just for a paycheck.

      “Thanks, B,” she said. “This has completely screwed with my head.”

      “That’s saying something. Nothing ever rattles you.”

      She had to smile at that. She had built up a resistance to the kinds of situations that would freak out most people. But this... Maybe it was the fact that Tara wasn’t here for her to talk to about it. Tara would be able to make her laugh about it even though a part of her was hurt.

      Scarlet couldn’t help but think that maybe he hadn’t worried about lying to her because of who she was. Because she was the kind of person who’d lived her life going from one scandal to the next. She had a reputation. So lying to her hadn’t worried him.

      She hoped that wasn’t the case.

      But then she’d learned that hoping was a waste of time. She’d hoped her dad would stop marrying younger women and actually be a parent to her and Tara. She’d hoped that Tara would stop using and get clean. Now she was hoping that Alejandro Velasquez was a decent guy...

      Alec had grown up playing polo with his brothers. The Velasquez family had been horse breeders for generations, and Alec’s dad had been playing on a team with Tio Jose and their cousins since they were children. So riding was second nature to Alec. His four-player team generally consisted of Alec, Mo, their eldest brother, Diego, and the youngest Velasquez, Inigo, with either Malcolm Ferris—Mo’s best friend—or their dad often subbing for Inigo, who was gone a lot of the time on the Formula 1 circuit. Technically Inigo wasn’t supposed to play when he was home because of insurance concerns, but the Velasquez men had a problem with following the rules.

      Diego was always number one—the goal striker. He’d always had a good eye for hitting goals, so it made sense for him to play in that position. Alec and Mauricio traded off being number two, the forward, and number three, the pivotal player who switches between offense and defense. Then number four protected the goal. Malcolm was really good at that position and since they’d grown up playing with him, he knew everyone’s strengths and weaknesses.

      But when the third chukka ended, Alec knew his brothers and Malcolm weren’t pleased with his performance. It didn’t help СКАЧАТЬ