Paper Castles by Terri Lee

gestures reminded Savannah of a B-list actor playing the part of the philandering husband.
    He swooped down and kissed her on the cheek, an unmistakable floral scent mingling with his cologne. “There’s my beautiful bride,” he said, holding out his hand. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”
    She lifted her eyes to his, not saying a word as she placed her fingers in his grasp. She got up, unsteady on her feet, and leaned on Price’s arm as they made their way to the dance floor.
    “Who were you talking to?” she asked.
    “When?” He pulled her into a slow dance.
    “Just now.”
    “No one. What are you talking about?”
    “I saw you, Price. With a woman. You walked outside with her, holding hands.”
    “I don’t know what you think you saw, but I’m not doing this tonight.”
    Savannah almost choked on the gall this man possessed. Kissing her with a tongue that begged her to trust him one minute then sneaking outside for an illicit rendezvous the next.
    The entire club was full of eyes. Couples swirling, dresses twirling, all laughing as they sped by. Laughing at her. Pointing fingers as the merry-go-round spun out of control.
    That’s not what I heard .
    “Where is she?” Savannah said. “I want to tell her she can have you.”
    “Calm down, Savannah,” Price said through clenched teeth, his lips curled in a smile. “I think you’ve had enough to drink. We wouldn’t want your dirty little secret to get out now would we?”
    She looked up into his eyes and spoke through her teeth as well. “My dirty little secret is already out. Everyone knows I’m married to a man who can’t keep his zipper up.”
    “Touché, darling.”
    His condescending tone was the trigger. Her arm reared back and Price caught her by the wrist before she could make contact, fingers digging into her soft flesh. She didn’t know if she was more surprised at herself or the message Price’s grip was sending her.
    “Don’t even think about it,” he said.
    “I’m doing more than thinking about it. Let go of me or I’ll scream this place down.”
    She didn’t flinch during his quick assessment of her intentions. Cold eyes swept over her face. He lowered her arm to her side, still holding her wrist in check. His eyes darted around the room searching for witnesses.
    “Listen to me,” he said, his mouth at her ear. “We’re going to walk over to the table. Get our things, say good-bye and leave before you make a fool out of yourself. And me. In front of everyone I do business with.”
    He was as cold as she was hot. He ushered her from the dance floor, his grip relaxing only when they reached the table.
    “We’re heading out,” he said. “Savannah’s not feeling well.
    She fumbled with her coat and purse. Millie looked over at her with a big question mark on her face, her head cocked to one side. Savannah leaned down and kissed Millie on the cheek, whispering, “I’ll call you later.”
    Price was so sure she would play her part accordingly. She did, but not for his sake.

“Y ou’re a bastard, Price.”
    “And you’re drunk.”
    “Not drunk enough.”
    The fight spilled from the car and oozed through the front door like an oil slick. Savannah was on fire, anger raging through her veins, consuming everything in its path.
    Throwing her purse on the hall table, she stormed into the living room tearing at the buttons on her coat. It went flying toward the sofa, missed, and landed in a defeated heap on the floor. Crystal decanters rattled as she poured amnesia over ice.
    “That’s just what you need, another goddamn drink,” Price said.
    “Don’t try to change the subject.”
    “I wouldn’t dream of it. We’re having so much fun.” Price collapsed in his chair.
    “Who is she, Price?” Savannah turned on him. “Since everyone else knows about her, why shouldn’t I?”
    “What are you talking about?”
    “You know what I’m talking about. Who is she?”
    “How the hell should I know? You’re the one making