“I know that, I just—”

Noah cuts me off. “Don’t look now, it’s the CEO of Acentix Telecom.” He inclines his head toward a silver-haired gentleman walking our way. “Act natural. Touch my arm or something.”

“I’ll pass,” I hiss just as the man claps Noah on the shoulder.

“Noah Tate, you son of a gun.” He laughs, louder than necessary—the room isn’t that noisy. “How’ve you been lately? Is this lovely creature your wife?”

Noah’s gaze flicks toward me, too fast for anyone else to see. I know what he’s thinking: For now, anyway. But he responds smoothly, “I’m proud to say she is. Olivia, have you met Caleb Tyrell?”

I nod at Mr. Tyrell. “Yes, at all of our client meetings with Acentix.” And yet this idiot still managed to forget me.

“Ah yes, of course. How could I forget such a pretty face?” Caleb winks at me.

Normally I would play along with his corny old-fart flirting. But I have no patience left for putting up with men tonight. I just nod and smile, more stiffly than before.

“Sweetheart, your hand is empty. Let’s go get you a glass of prosecco.” Noah steers me away from Mr. Tyrell under the pretext of us going to the bar.

I set my jaw. Why did he have to jump in like that? Intervening so obviously only makes the situation more awkward than it already is.

Fortunately, Mr. Tyrell doesn’t seem to notice anything wrong. “As much as I’d love to shoot the breeze, I should get back to my own wife before she gets jealous.” With another obnoxious wink in my direction, he ambles away and disappears into the crowd.

“What the hell is your problem tonight?” Noah growls under his breath as soon as the client is out of earshot.

“You just have to be in control of everything, don’t you?” I snap right back. I could have handled myself smoothly in that situation, if he’d only given me a chance. Just because I needed his help with Brad doesn’t mean Noah has to be my white knight all the time.

“Okay, that’s it. If you want to fight, let’s at least take this somewhere private. Then you can make as big a scene as you fucking want.”

I match his dark glare. “Great idea.”

Noah stalks through the banquet hall’s entrance. I follow him as he turns down a seemingly random narrow hallway. Even from behind, he looks almost as pissed as I feel—his shoulders are tense and his stride is even longer than usual, forcing me to hurry after him.

Gradually the buzz of chatter from the banquet hall fades, leaving only the clack of our shoes on the marble floors. When we reach a coat closet, he yanks the door open. “After you.” He follows me inside and shuts the door behind us, plunging us into shadows.

I launch into my tirade as if there had been no interruption. “What the fuck do you think my problem is? I can manage faking a happy relationship for the press, but don’t expect me to enjoy it.”

I can just barely make out Noah shaking his head. “We both know that’s not the whole story. You’ve been freezing me out for days now. If you’ve got something to say, say it. I’m listening.”

What is it with men and not understanding basic communication? “I’ve already made my feelings very clear. You just don’t like the messages you got.”

“Oh, come on.” He sighs. “Throw me a bone here. I know I fucked up royally, and I’m sorry, but things between us have been going nowhere lately. Can I at least get a hint about where I stand? Am I going to stay in the doghouse forever? Just let me know what I should do, how I can fix this.”

“It’s not that easy. Do you think you can just buy me some flowers and I’ll forget all about what I saw that night? The heir clause will disappear out of the contract, we’ll inherit the company, and live happily ever after?”

“You said you were giving up. Quitting the company, or quitting our marriage, or maybe both—I couldn’t exactly ask for clarification while you were tearing ass out the door. But then why are you still here?” Noah’s silhouette throws its hands up. “If you hate me so much, why haven’t we gotten a divorce yet? Are you giving this another chance or not? I’ll stay by your side, or I’ll leave if there’s really no hope left, but I won’t hang around just to be your punching bag.”

I swallow past the knot in my throat, fighting the urge to cry from sheer anxiety and frustration. “I don’t know, okay? Even if I believed everything you said—about how you’d never get me pregnant without my consent—what’s next? What are we going to do? No baby means no inheritance.”

“If you believed me?” He releases an exasperated scoffing sound. “You don’t even know that for sure? Wow, I guess I really am on your shit list.”

I doubt he can see me roll my eyes, but I do it anyway. “Gee, I wonder why. There’s no reason on earth why a woman should distrust a man who lied his ass off about things that could make or break her whole future.”

“I said I was sorry. I made a big fucking stupid mistake, okay? I didn’t speak up when I should have, because I was so scared of losing you and ruining the company and—”

“The company is going to be ruined anyway!” I explain for what feels like the hundredth time. “If you had said something earlier, we could have figured this out together. Instead you waited until the last possible second.”

“Is saving Tate & Cane the real reason why you’re so tense? Because I’m here to help with that.”