Evangeline nced at <b>her </b>phone and saw several missed calls from Soren.


    He’d been reaching out more than usualtely, for reasons she couldn’t quite figure.


    out.


    She wasn’t in the mood to deal with whatever he wanted tonight. With a sigh, she set the note he’d left back on the table, ignored his calls, and headed for a shower.


    But as soon as she stepped out of the bathroom, her phone rang again.


    Soren’s name shed on the screen.


    If she didn’t pick up now, she probably wouldn’t get any peace for the rest of the night.


    Resigned, Evangeline answered.


    “Home already?” Soren’s voice was cold, as usual.


    Evangeline toweled off her damp hair. “Yeah.”


    “Did you see the note I left you?” he asked.


    “I saw it,” she replied, her tone even.


    Apparently, herck of enthusiasm irritated him, because his voice grew taut. “Why didn’t you call me back?”


    “It’ste.” She nced at the clock.


    Soren gave a low, humorlessugh. “So you know it’ste. Doesn’t it seem a little. inappropriate for you to being home at this hour?”


    Evangeline shot back, “What’s so inappropriate? Is this worse than you staying out all night like you used to?”


    Today had <b>been </b>exhausting–whether it was Fawkes Enterprises sending people to steal information, or Soren appointing Poppy as the project lead, Evangeline’s patience had worn thin. Her frustration slipped into her words.


    Soren was caught off guard by her retort.


    She’d never talked back to him like this before.


    He was used to her quietly swallowing her hurt, never making a scene. Now she was suddenly spitting out old grievances like firecrackers<b>, </b>and he found it almost


    14


    <b>10.79 </b>


    amusing.


    He didn’t get angry–instead, a small, wry smile yed at his lips.


    “It’s different,” he said calmly. “It’s dangerous for a woman toe home alone in the middle of the night. I’m a man–it’s not the same.”


    Evangeline bit back the reply on the tip of her tongue.


    Divorce was right around the corner; she saw no point in debating the supposed dangers of men and women being outte.


    “What do you want, Soren?” she asked, cutting to the chase.


    He let the previous topic drop. “In eight days, it’s my grandmother’s seventieth birthday. My parents asked me to organize the celebration.”


    Evangeline caught his meaning before he even finished.


    At Carlisle family events, Soren had a habit of bringing other women as his guests.


    As his wife, she’d been forced to stand by while people whispered and stared.


    At first, she’d simply endured the dirty looks and gossip, staying silent until the party was over. But then, one evening, one of Soren’s dates got especially bold and confronted her directly.


    That time, Evangeline lost herposure and threw a drink in the woman’s face–earning herself the ridicule of the other guests.


    Helena had torn into her for it afterwards. After that, Evangeline started making excuses to avoid the parties altogether.


    But this was Old Mrs. Fawkes’s seventieth–a milestone she likely wouldn’t be invited to again after the divorce. She didn’t want to miss it.


    Soren must have known she’d insist on attending; that’s why he was warning her in


    advance.


    “I understand,” Evangeline said. “You’re bringing Poppy as your date. I don’t care. Don’t worry I won’t cause a scene.”


    –


    She thought her answer would satisfy him. To her surprise, Soren frowned. “Evangeline, there’s no need to turn Poppy into some imaginary rival.”


    Imaginary rival?


    Evangeline gave a small, humorless smile.


    19:22


    Poppy had always yed her cards well around Soren.


    Evangeline didn’t bother arguing the point.


    Soren switched topics abruptly. “I’ve scheduled a meeting with the designer tomorrow. Stop by–the designer needs your measurements for the dress<b>.</b>”


    Evangeline recited her measurements for him without hesitation.


    <b>19:22 </b>