Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 163475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 817(@200wpm)___ 654(@250wpm)___ 545(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 817(@200wpm)___ 654(@250wpm)___ 545(@300wpm)
Seriously, is open communication in a marriage really too much to ask for?
“Sorry I’m late.” Jeremy smiles and falls into the chair.
I give him a weak smile.
His face falls. “Are you okay?”
“Been better.”
“Why, what’s happened?”
“You can’t tell anyone.”
He holds his hands up. “I wouldn’t, you know that.”
“Sebastian’s ex-wife threw in a bombshell when I stopped the blackmailing situation.”
He frowns, waiting for me to go on.
“She said she’s fourteen weeks pregnant with Sebastian’s baby.”
“What?” He gasps. “They’ve still been sleeping together?”
“Apparently, it was the night he and Bart were drugged in Bath. Helena says that he called her and asked her to come to him, but Sebastian says he remembers nothing.”
His eyes widen in horror. “Can men even ejaculate when they’re unconscious?”
“Apparently.” I drag my hand down my face.
“Fucking hell.” He takes my hand over the table. “Do you believe him?”
“Am I an idiot if I do?” I wince.
He shrugs.
“I honestly don’t believe he would do this.” I think for a moment. “And not just to me, but in general. I know he loves me, and I really can’t see him calling her. Especially not for sex. They aren’t even on speaking terms. But then, if he was drugged…”
Jeremy’s eyes widen as another train of thought crosses his mind, “Hang on. So, did Helena drug them?”
“I don’t know. I hadn’t even thought of that.”
He frowns. “Because if she drugged them, that means Bart’s wife is telling the truth and…” His eyes widen. “Bart did order the prostitutes himself like she is saying.”
I hold my temples. “This is one big fucking nightmare.”
“Hi,” a voice interrupts us.
“Oh, hi.” Jeremy fakes a smile. “Oliver this is April.”
“Hi, April.”
“Hi.”
Oliver pulls out a chair and sits down. “I’ve been meaning to call you.”
Damn it, not now Oliver, whoever you are. I’m in the middle of a serious crisis here.
Oliver chats on and on, and I really have to get to work.
Ugh…
“I have to go.” I smile.
“I’ll see you tonight, darling,” Jeremy says.
“Tonight?”
“We have the welcome dinner.”
I frown, confused.
“You know, the celebratory dinner. It’s at Market Street in the ballroom. Black tie? You haven’t forgotten, have you?”
Oh, crap, I completely had. “That’s right,” I lie.
Great, another dress I have to find today, for fuck’s sake. I don’t have time for this black tie bullshit.
“I’ll see you tonight?” I ask.
“Sure, baby.” Jeremy stands and kisses my cheek. “Sorry,” he whispers in my ear.
“Nice to meet you, Oliver.” I smile and make a dash for the door, I text Sebastian.
What time is tonight?
A reply bounce’s in:
I don’t expect you to come.
I narrow my eyes. Don’t piss me off, fucker.
Don’t be cute.
What time?
I wait for his answer.
Seven.
Fuck, he’s infuriating. Hot headed twat.
I click out of my phone in disgust. Don’t mess with me today, Sebastian, or I will end you.
“Are you ready?” Sebastian asks.
I hold my hands out. “Do I look ready?”
Sebastian glances over. His eyes skim down the length of me in my evening gown. “How would I know?”
I roll my eyes. I was going to try and make up with him tonight—apologize for not being empathetic enough to his circumstance—but it isn’t even about the Helena secrets now. It’s about him being a fucking pig. I’m not standing for it.
“Where’s my charming husband who tells me that I look lovely?” I ask.
He shrugs. “I don’t know. Perhaps he’s sleeping on the couch.”
I narrow my eyes.
And he’s about to get smothered with said couch cushions.
I fake a smile. “Witty.”
We walk to the door, and he puts his arm out. “Are you ready to act excited to be on my arm tonight?”
I link my arm through his, and he opens the front door. “Not as excited as I am for a drink,” I reply dryly.
He rolls his lips, unimpressed. “You’re turning into a raging alcoholic.”
“Any wonder why.”
We walk down the stairs to see the four guards waiting on the bottom floor. They all drop their heads in tandem, none of them daring to make eye contact with me.
Yellow bellied chickens.
My temper gets an injection of fury.
Damn this man.
He has the entire house staff running scared of his temper, and now he has the hide not to talk to me. Well, he’s too late, because I’m not talking to him.
“Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Garcia,” one guard says.
Good evening,” we both reply with a fake smile.
We walk out to the front of the house. “Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Garcia,” Kevin says, holding the back door open. Sebastian takes my hand to help me in.
“Hello, Kevin.” I smile as I get into the back seat, and Sebastian gets in behind me. The door closes, and we sit in silence throughout the drive.
I get vivid recollections of how much Sebastian Garcia could infuriate me back in the day. Nobody could wind me up like him.
Nothing’s changed.
Calm, calm, keep fucking calm.
The car pulls up at the ballroom. We get out, and Sebastian takes my hand. We fake more smiles and walk through the crowd as if we are the happiest couple of all.