Elizabeth Vidal halted me in my tracks.
“Excuse me,” I said, when I nearly bumped into her.
She grabbed me by the elbow and pulled me over to a dark corner. Then she caught my hand and looked at my gorgeous Asscher diamond. “That’s my ring.”
I tugged free. “It was your ring. It’s mine now. Your son gave it to me around the time he asked me to marry him.”
She looked at me with those blue eyes that were so like her son’s. So like Ireland’s. She was a beautiful woman, glamorous and elegant. As much a head-turner as my mother, really, but she had Gideon’s iciness.
“I won’t let you take him away from me,” she bit out between brilliantly white teeth.
“You’ve got it all wrong.” I crossed my arms. “I want to get you two together, so we can put everything out in the open.”
“You’re filling his head with lies.”
“Oh my God. Seriously? The next time he tells you what happened—and I’ll make sure he does—you’re going to believe him. And you’re going to apologize, and find some fucking way to make it easier for him to bear. Because I want him healed and healthy and whole.”
Elizabeth stared at me, clearly fuming. She obviously wasn’t on board with that plan.
“Are we done?” I asked, disgusted with her deliberate blindness.
“Not even close,” she hissed, leaning into me. “I know about you and that lead singer. I’m on to you.”