She watched Sara like a hawk circling prey. "And this restaurant... the brand of clothes you're wearing... we founded them together back then."
*So that's how it is.*
Sara had noticed Adrian's "soft spots" for certain brands and places. She hadn't realized they were all monuments to Eva. He had never forgotten her.
He just never spoke her name.
Under the table, Sara's nails dug into her palms.
She had lied to Simon.
And she had been lying to herself.
A man might separate sex from love, but she couldn't. Two and a half years of marriage had fostered feelings she had no business having for the man who sheltered her.
She knew the chasm between them. She kept calling him "Mr. Harding" to remind him of his comfort zone—and to remind herself of her place. But in this moment, the ache spreading through her chest told her the truth.
She was in far deeper than she'd thought.
"What?" Eva tilted her head, mock concern dripping from every syllable. "Did Assistant Navarro not know?"
She saw the crack in Sara's armor. Her smile deepened, a ghost of mockery playing at the corners of her mouth.