Badass In My Bed 3 (Badass #3) by Rae Lynn Blaise

 
    My betrayal tastes like expensive champagne.
    My stomach roils as the disbelief in Dylan’s eyes transforms into devastation and then disgust. This wasn’t how I wanted him to find out about my engagement, not that I’d ever planned on telling him. He was supposed to be a neat little fling, a wild ride that ended back in Chicago. But I couldn’t stay away. Greedily, I had to have more and more. Even now I want to rush into his arms and forget about the rest of the world.
    He’s looking at me like I’m a stranger, and agony twists like a knife hilt-deep in my chest. I can take anything except him hating me. I have to explain, make him know somehow that what happened between us was real.
    The patrons around me turn my way, following Blaine’s eyes to his fiancé—me—and I tear my gaze from the rock star twenty feet away to avoid suspicion. I’m trapped by hundreds of eyes and their expectations of me. My heart wants me to run to Dylan, take his hand, and escape from the pretentiousness sparkling all around us like a thousand diamonds, but this isn’t about what I want.
    Boston has never been about what I want. It’s about what’s best for me. Until Dylan strolled into my life, I never hated my decision to accept Blaine’s proposal. But some decisions we can’t take back without everything around us falling like a delicate house of cards. It’s not just my life affected by my next move, so I plaster on a smile and stride to Blaine’s side, doing what’s expected instead of what my heart is screaming at me to do.
    Every hand clapping congratulations might as well be slapping me in the face. I feel every percussive beat against my skin like an accusation.
    Liar.
    Liar.
    Liar.
    Lying by omission is still a lie, and Dylan thought I was single the whole time we were together.
    Blaine wraps his arm around my waist and kisses my temple. He grins at the crowd. Inside, I turn to stone and pretend I’m thrilled to finally be able to share this happy news with my peers.
    The few faces of other members of the symphony nearby look surprised but happy. Maybe not happy so much as relieved. I know what they must be thinking: Maybe Blaine’ll relax with a woman in his life. Maybe now he’s getting laid regularly, he’ll be less intense.
    They’re thinking about all the times Maestro was hard on me in front of everyone, putting me on the spot. He was getting me to publicly demonstrate that I deserved my position, that it wasn’t undeserved preferential treatment.
    If I hadn’t delivered, they’d think I screwed my way to the top or that Blaine gave a coveted spot to someone unworthy. Luckily, I did deliver. Maybe I did get preferential treatment, but I have the skills to back it up and they know it.
    They know it because he made me prove it.
    Some are also surprised, probably because they thought he was gay and our announcement disproves that rampant theory because straight-laced Rachel would never do anything outside acceptable expectations. I’m a good girl, they all think.
    They are easy to read, but what’s Dylan thinking?
    The spot where he stood is empty when I dare another glance his way. Panic tugs me a step forward before I get ahold of myself and search the room with my gaze.
    Porter Lofthouse, Chairman of the Arts Board, steps forward and shakes my hand then Blaine’s before holding his up for silence. He’s Old Boy’s Club from way back, and one of the reasons I’m in this situation. Blaine’s been trying to worm his way into Porter’s good graces for months.
    When the crowd settles, Porter clears his throat. “The board has an announcement we’d like to make as well. Blaine Sanderson has ambition—there’s no denying that. He’s young, and his talent cannot be denied.”
    Blaine dips his head modestly, but his eyes are gleaming triumphantly.
    “We’ve been without a Director for a while—until now.” He turns to Blaine. “Ladies and Gentlemen, it is my honor and privilege to announce