Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 109608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
I’m an only child.
Graduated at the top of my class from Columbia with a major in business and a minor in fine arts. I would have guessed the opposite.
I work for my family’s company in marketing, which gives me peace of mind that I was doing something with my life. The downside is that Carter had been brought on in accounting, apparently by my request. That makes no sense to me because I can’t figure out our relationship. It doesn’t sound like we had a particularly good one, and he talks about the cheating being within the guidelines. Really weird.
In my heart of hearts, cheating is a no-go. Not only can I not handle it, but it feels wrong, hurtful, and disrespectful to your partner.
As I sit here trying to bridge the gap of who I am now and my beliefs to who I was in the past, so many things don’t add up to being in love with him. Much less putting him in positions of power in my life. “If I had a job,” I start, “why was no one questioning when I wasn’t showing up for work?”
“Well, ‘showing up for work’ is relative to the situation. The company is run out of France.”
“France?”
She nods as if she’s just shared the juiciest secret. Looking at her eyes, I can’t tell if they’re more playful from the bonding time or if she just loves to gossip. Either way, I’m here for it. “Yep. Your family owns an olive oil company in France. It’s a stunning property that’s been in your family for generations, like two-hundred years or something.”
France . . . my mind wanders the imagery of the countryside that’s popped into my head. “I like it there.”
“You love it there. You always called it your happy place.”
“Why was I living in Rhode Island if my happy place is in France?”
“I’m off.” We both turn to see Carter in the foyer. When he sees us sitting in the living room, he adds, “Thought you were going to rest? I knew I shouldn’t have texted Allison. Leave it to her to barge in like—”
“Like I’m her best friend?” Allison shoots me a got him look, a small smirk playing on her lips. As if she didn’t make it clear before that she’s not his biggest fan, she’s crystal this time. “You’re not wrong there.”
It’s safe to say they mutually dislike each other.
I say, “It’s been good to catch up with her again.”
He spins the key ring around his finger, his eyes darting to her like she might spill the beans. I have no doubt that if she has beans on him, she’s spilling them. “Well, don’t wait up.”
Staring at him, I reply, “I wasn’t planning to since you’ll be staying at your place.”
The chime of the keys clanging together in his palm breaks the silent standoff between us. His eyes stay fixed on mine, but the humor he thought he had in the situation has gone. “Maybe I should stay.”
Whipping around, Allison asks, “No, we’re good. Right, Tues—C?”
With both sets of eyes glaring at me, I shift and take another sip of wine. “We clearly have a lot to talk about, Carter. I look forward to that tomorrow, but tonight, I’m spending time with Allison. She’s filling me in on everything I missed.”
“She’ll get you drunk and feed you lies, Céline. You know how she is.”
Allison tenses and fists her hands. “You know what—”
“I can think for myself.” I step in before a war breaks out.
“Isn’t that what got us here?” he barks, the veins in his neck bulging. “I’m already late meeting the guys. We’ll talk tomorrow.” He walks out the door, letting a gush of cold wind and snow rush in.
Chilled, I turn to the fire, holding my hands out to warm them. The flames remind me of Loch’s eyes and the way the fire inside him licks at my body when I’m lying naked. He looks at me like I’m his whole universe.
Though Loch comforts me momentarily, a shiver runs up my spine that the guy who just left has probably seen me naked. Ugh. That’s a memory I hope I never retrieve.
“He’s such an asshole,” Allison says. “You really need to toss him to the curb.”
“Why haven’t I?”
With puffed cheeks, she exhales loudly. “Only you knew why and now you don’t know at all.”
“Truer words have never been spoken.”
I drink more wine and curl my legs beside me. “It’s a mystery. That’s for sure.”
She scoffs. “He’s so frustrating. He loves playing mental games—”
“That’s exactly what I was thinking earlier. The verbal sparring with him is exhausting.” Holding the glass on my leg, I catch the fire reflecting in the crystal. “I’d like to get back to France.”
“Me too. We should go.”
Laughing, I add, “I meant back to what we were talking about. If France is my happy place, why’d I stay here?”