Total pages in book: 235
Estimated words: 227851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1139(@200wpm)___ 911(@250wpm)___ 760(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 227851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1139(@200wpm)___ 911(@250wpm)___ 760(@300wpm)
But perhaps by then, when she’s my wife, we’ll have had some breakthroughs.
Perhaps by then, she’ll finally admit what we both know.
2
Ava and Elizabeth leave the penthouse together the next morning at eight on the dot, and Joseph leaves shortly after to visit some old friends. So once Cathy has finished clearing up the breakfast things, I send her on her way, leaving me alone to start making plans. My first job is to call Larry Hanna, a counsellor who plays at The Manor from time to time, although I haven’t seen him for some time. Mind you, I haven’t seen much since I met Ava.
“Ward,” he says, his voice deep and suggestive of his age and background. Aristocracy. “How the devil are you?”
“Sober,” I grunt, and he laughs. “I need some help.”
“With?”
“A wedding venue license.”
There’s a small pause. “For The Manor?”
“Yes, for The Manor. Don’t worry, The Manor is still The Manor.” For now. “I’m getting married, and I’d like to have the ceremony and reception there.”
“At your sex club?”
My shoulders drop.
“And you’re getting married? To whom?” A gasp. “Oh, the young little interior designer? I’ve heard about her.”
“I bet,” I mutter. “Her name is Ava.”
“Ava. Nice. And what does the whip-wielding, hard-hearted bitch make of this?”
I sink on the stool, reminded that Sarah is a big something I need to deal with. “Larry, can we get back to the matter at hand, please?” I need to remember this man has something I need.
“I can put you in touch with the right department. They’ll have you complete some forms, make an application fee, and then they’ll send an inspector to look at the space and ensure it meets regulations. They can only approve one area for ceremonies, not the entire venue. Then they’ll take it to the councilors meeting, usually held on the last Friday of the month, and a decision will be made.”
“That sounds quite long-winded.”
“From start to finish, usually three to six months.”
I baulk. “Months? Larry, I need it to happen much quicker than that.”
“How quick?”
“Within the next week.”
He laughs, and the rich, baritone sound irritates the shit out of me.
“I’ll wave your membership fees for a year,” I say flatly, and his laughter stops in a second.
“That’s bribery.”
“I don’t believe any money is passing hands. I’ll make it two years if you find me a registrar too. Call me.” I hang up and get to ordering Ava’s wedding present—the big one and the little one, a car and a watch—and then sort a new bed for our suite at The Manor. And, actually, I email some decorators too. One for The Manor’s extension, and one for my office. In half an hour, both are lined up. I’m winning this morning.
Next.
I smile, looking down at my list of things to do. My smile falls. Fucking hell. “Wedding planner,” I say, pulling my laptop close and hitting up Google. The list is endless, and I figure the ones at the top are likely to be the best and most popular, so I start there. Yes, that might mean they’re also fully booked, but I’ll make this well worth their while. Besides, half the job is done for them—venue, registrar, dress. I even know a baker and a florist. So, really, they’ll be more of a coordinator. A very well-paid coordinator.
The first answers, and I ramp up my charm to top level, getting up from my stool and wandering. “Hi, Tessa, my name’s Jesse Ward.” God damn it, this would be much easier in person. I could flash my smile and biceps. “I’m looking for a wedding planner.”
“I’m afraid I’m fully booked for the next three years.”
I laugh. “Fucking hell.” She must be really good. And exactly what I need. “We’re getting married a week on Saturday.”
Now it’s her laughing.
“It’s twelve days’ work,” I go on, not deterred. “For one hundred grand.” And she shuts up. “There’s no budget,” I add.
“I think I might be able to figure something out.”
I bet you can, Tessa. “Great. My wife to-be will be home this evening. That work?”
“Absolutely.”
“Perfect. I’ll send you our address.” I hang up and go to my list, crossing out everything on it—it’s now Tessa’s list—and leave only two more things. I dial John, my stomach doing a little flip.
“Is she there?” I ask.
“She’s here.”
I nod and breathe out. “I’m on my way.”
* * *
I sit outside The Manor for an eternity, staring up at the building that’s been my life for the best part of twenty years, feeling . . . I don’t know. Weird? I can’t put my finger on it. Empty? Detached? Abs—
My phone rings, and I recoil at the dash display. Coral? I laugh sardonically. Seriously?
I reject the call and get out, heading up the steps, opening the door and listening. It’s not busy—standard for this time of day. Swallowing, I walk on, vigilant, watching every door, waiting for her to appear. I find John first, coming out of my office, his wraparounds unusually sitting on his bald, shiny head. “All right?” I ask as I approach.