Then someone laughed, low and knowing.

"True enough."

"The Winfields have been on the way down for a few years now. She really does need to hold on to Clifford."

"No wonder she's so wound up about it."

The color drained slowly from my face.

After everything fell apart for the Winfields, Clifford was the one who came forward and said he wanted to marry me.

He'd said: "Tamara, from now on I'll protect you. No one will dare look down on you again."

But now.

His friends were tearing open my most humiliating wound, right in front of him.

And Clifford just sat there, watching in silence.

It hit me all at once.

It wasn't that they looked down on me.

It was that Clifford let them.

Peggy seemed to realize she'd said too much, and clapped a hand over her mouth.

"Tammy, I'm sorry."

"That's not what I meant."

"I only said it because I feel awful for you."

Tears spilled down her face, her voice catching.

Clifford finally reached out and drew her behind him.

"Enough."

The way he looked at me had gone cold, like a stranger.

"Tamara. Apologize."

I almost thought I'd misheard.

"What did you say?"

He said it slowly, one word at a time.

"Apologize to Peggy."

"She's already bent over backward to spare your feelings."

A small laugh slipped out of me.

"Fine."

Clifford's expression eased a little.

He probably thought I was finally backing down.

But the next second, I lifted my head and looked at Peggy.

"Peggy."

"Tonight, you keep an eye on him for me."

Her face froze.

I turned back to Clifford.

"As for the apology."

"Let's talk about it after I get the marriage license tomorrow."

Clifford's brow dropped.

"Tamara, what's that supposed to mean?"

I gave the key card in my hand a little wave.

"Isn't the rule that you honor the bet you lose?"

"I should go find my room too."

With that, I turned and walked out.

Behind me, Clifford shot to his feet.

"Tamara!"

"If you really go to Rick James tonight, then don't bother registering the marriage tomorrow."

My steps hitched.

Something pricked lightly at my chest.

But it faded fast, and all that was left was numbness.

I looked back and smiled at him.

"Perfect."

"I wasn't that eager to register it either."

As I walked out of the private room, the laughter behind me picked right back up.

Someone lowered their voice on purpose, but it carried clear as anything into my ears.

"Clifford, your girl really needs to work on that temper."

"Getting the license tomorrow and still throwing breakups around to scare people."

"Relax, she won't let go of me. The state the Winfields are in now, who doesn't know that?"

A burst of laughter.

Clifford didn't come after me.

I stood at the end of the hallway, gripping the key card with Rick James's name on it, and suddenly thought back to a long time ago.

Back then, Clifford wasn't like this.

The year everything first went wrong for the Winfields, I went to a dinner with him for the first time.

Someone deliberately seated me at the very foot of the table.

Partway through, a man said with a smile:

"With the Winfields in the state they're in, and Miss Winfield can still show her face at something like this. Strong nerves."

The whole table laughed.

I clutched the hem of my dress, my face burning.

The next second, Clifford set his glass down hard on the table.

"Wherever Tamara sits is the head of the table."

And then he got up from the seat of honor and came to sit right beside me.

That night, he draped his own coat over my shoulders.

Blocking out all those sizing-up stares.

Back then I really was moved by the sheer, overwhelming love Clifford showed me.

I believed he would love me and protect me, always.

Later, I was the one who brought Peggy into this circle with my own hands.

The first time she walked into that exclusive club in the New York suburbs, her palms were damp with nerves.

She held on to my arm and whispered, "Tammy, everyone here looks so important."

"What if I embarrass you?"

I smiled and smoothed down her gown for her.

"What's there to be afraid of?"

"You're my friend."

"With me here, no one would dare treat you badly."

That gown was one I'd lent her.

That auction was one I'd brought her to.

Every connection I had, I introduced to her, one by one.

Back then, Clifford even warned me.

"Tamara, people in this circle are ruthless."

"Don't just bring anyone in."

I actually thought he was worried about me.

So I laughed, still holding his arm.

"Peggy isn't just anyone."

"She's my best friend."

He didn't say anything more.

But somewhere along the way, without my noticing,

his attitude toward Peggy changed.

The first time was at the auction.

Peggy didn't know the rules and raised her paddle by mistake.

A diamond necklace. Three point eight million.

She went white with fright, and the tears spilled over at once.

I was just about to go and sort it out with the organizers.

Clifford had already spoken first.

"Put it on my account."

Peggy stared at him, dazed.

He handed the paddle back to the attendant, his tone offhand.

"It's only a few million."

"What are you crying for?"

That night, there was an emerald brooch I'd had my eye on too.

Not expensive, but lovely.

Clifford glanced at it and said flatly,

"The Winfields are under a lot of scrutiny right now."

"It's not a good time for you to draw attention."

So I didn't bid.

Later that diamond necklace ended up around Peggy's neck.

She posted about it: "Made a fool of myself at my first auction, but luckily someone covered for me."

In the photo, you could see Clifford's watch.

I stared at that picture for a long time.

And still I told myself.

Clifford was only helping her for my sake.

The second time was at the racing meet.

Clifford loved racing.

Once, the only person who'd ever ridden in his passenger seat was me.

Then one time Peggy stood beside the car, eyes bright, and said,

"I've never ridden shotgun in a supercar before."

Clifford looked at her, then tossed the keys to me.

"You take the car behind."

"I'll run a lap with her."

I stood there, stunned.

He'd already pulled the door open for Peggy.

Over the roar of the engine, Peggy was laughing, so happy.

That same night, she posted online.

"First time riding shotgun, so scared my hands were shaking."

"Someone told me, don't be afraid."

Don't be afraid.

Those words had once belonged only to me.

The third time was before the engagement dinner.

I picked out a red dress.

But Clifford only gave it one glance.

"Too flashy. It doesn't suit you."

I looked down at the hem and, in the end, changed into the white he liked.

Yet half a month later, I saw that red dress on Peggy.

She spun around with a smile and asked Clifford, "Does it look good?"

Clifford looked at her, and for a moment something dazzled in his eyes.

"It suits you."

Later Peggy took my arm and said, as if in passing,

"Tammy, Clifford says I look more alive in red."

"You don't mind, do you?"

I smiled and said I didn't.

But the ache in my chest lingered for a long time.

Thinking about it now.

So this was how a person's place gets given away, little by little.

First a necklace.

Then the passenger seat.

Then a red dress.

And finally, tonight, this key card.

I was standing in front of the elevator when the door to the private room behind me eased open a crack.

Peggy's crying drifted out.

"Clifford, does Tammy hate me now?"

"I really only wanted to help her keep an eye on you."

Clifford's voice dropped lower.

"Don't cry."

"I've just spoiled her too much."

I let out a small laugh.

He used to say no one would ever dare look down on me.

But now.

The first person to look down on me was him.

The elevator opened, and I reached the top-floor suite. Inside there was none of the extravagance I'd imagined.

Just a single floor lamp burning.

Rick James sat in a black shirt by the floor-to-ceiling window, half a cigarette between his fingers.

At the sound of me, he lifted his eyes lazily.

His gaze fell on the key card in my hand.

Then on the redness at the corners of my eyes.

He tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"Since it's a marriage of convenience with whoever it is."

"Tamara, why not try the James family?"

Unhurried, he stubbed out the cigarette and raised his eyes to me.

"Whatever the Delgados can give you, I'll give you double."

"Whatever Clifford won't give you, I'll give that too."

Before I could answer, my phone rang.

It was Clifford.

On the other end there was the sound of running water, and Peggy's soft laugh.

"Come down here."

His tone said it was a given.

"Peggy's stomach is bothering her. Her medicine's in your bag."

I froze.

Before we went out this afternoon, Peggy had wheedled that her little bag was too small and asked me to hold her medicine for her.

I'd even teased her about being scatterbrained.

Only now did I understand—she could turn even feeling unwell into another excuse to run me around.

I said quietly, "Have a server bring it."

Clifford's voice went cold.

"She can't stomach the pharmacy stuff out there."

"Tamara, don't be so heartless."

On the other end, Peggy said in a small voice,

"Clifford, forget it."

"Tammy probably doesn't want to see me right now. I'll just tough it out."

Clifford instantly softened.

"Don't tough it out."

Then he said coldly to me,

"Five minutes. Bring it to my room."

When I got to their suite door with the medicine, the door wasn't shut all the way.

Peggy sat on the edge of the bed in a bathrobe, her hair dripping wet, her face still flushed with the color of someone who'd just pulled back from something intimate.

I handed over the medicine and turned to go.

Clifford walked to Peggy's side and passed her a glass of water.

"Take your medicine first."

The motion was so practiced they looked like the couple who'd been together for years.

I stood in the doorway like a spare part, an outsider.

The next second, Clifford called me back.

"Wait."

He picked an empty box up off the nightstand, his tone even.

"Go down to the convenience machine and grab me a box of these."

At first it didn't register.

Then I read the words on the box.

Condoms.

My whole body went rigid.

Peggy's face flushed crimson in an instant, and she ducked her head and murmured,

"Clifford, how can you send Tammy to buy that…"

But Clifford saw nothing wrong with it.

"She's my fiancée."

"She knows my habits better than anyone."

When he'd said that, he looked over at me.

"Same brand as before. Don't get it wrong."

In that instant, I felt so sick I nearly threw up.

"Clifford, do you hear yourself?"

He frowned.

"Tamara, don't twist things again."

"They're just backup."

"Peggy and I are completely innocent. If there were actually anything going on, I wouldn't be sending you to buy them, would I."

Peggy nodded quickly too.

"Tammy, don't get the wrong idea."

"Clifford just doesn't want everyone joking about this empty box tomorrow."