Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 115737 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115737 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Breaking away from the group, I find my phone and text Lizzy, asking her where they are.
‘I couldn’t get out of it.’ Jack’s voice hits the base of my spine and licks its way to the top, making me shiver. But not in the way it usually does, when I get tingles and have to take a breath and contain my need to devour him. He rounds me and puts himself before me, searching my eyes. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘What happened?’ I ask.
‘She insisted on coming. What could I do?’
I shake my head and move away from him, watchful and wary of our surroundings. ‘I don’t know,’ I admit. ‘Jack, you have to talk her out of arranging lunch with me.’
He laughs, low and sarcastic. ‘How the hell am I going to do that?’
I wilt when I realise he can’t, and it’s mighty unreasonable for me to expect him to. ‘I was so looking forward to tonight.’ I instantly regret letting my thoughts speak. This isn’t his fault. I shouldn’t be making him feel guilty.
‘I know, Annie. I know. She mentioned you ran into each other.’
‘Outside my flat,’ I confirm. ‘She was picking your suit up from the dry cleaner’s.’ I motion down his grey three-piece with my glass. ‘Looks nice, by the way.’
He smiles mildly. ‘You look beautiful, and I can’t even fucking touch you.’ His eyes burn into mine, so much hunger clouding them. ‘I need to see you later. Tell me I can see you later.’
‘How?’ I ask. ‘You’re with your wife.’ I don’t mean to sound resentful, but the truth of it is, I am.
‘I’ll find a way,’ he promises.
‘Now’s not the time to become careless, Jack,’ I warn. ‘Richard knows, and if we’re not careful, your wife will soon figure it out too.’
‘I need to see you,’ he grates, daring me to deny him with his hard stare. ‘Just answer your phone when I call.’ He breaks away, slapping a smile on his face.
‘There you are.’ Stephanie croons, slipping her arm through Jack’s when she joins us. ‘Talking boring work?’
‘As always,’ Jack confirms, looking down at her glass. It’s empty again.
‘Well, enough of that.’ She turns her full body to him and places her lips on his cheek. I vomit in my own mouth, my stomach churning terribly. ‘You need to show your wife a good time.’
My phone chimes in my hand, and I rip my eyes away from the unbearable sight of another woman all over the man I love. ‘Excuse me,’ I murmur, heading back into the gallery as I read Lizzy’s text. I’m going to get so drunk.
I find Colin, thank him and make my excuses, not prepared to allow his evident disappointment make me feel too guilty. He holds on to me, temping me with more fizz, but I stand firm, not letting him succeed in persuading me to stay a bit longer. Nothing would convince me to.
I head to the toilet to freshen up my lipstick, and as I enter the ladies’, the first thing I see is myself in the mirror. I look as terrible as I feel. Pale and traumatised. Bracing my hands on the edge of the stone vanity unit, I breathe in, trying to give myself a pep talk.
Bang!
My eyes shoot past my reflection to the row of cubicles, scanning from side to side, listening carefully. What was that?
Bang!
Sounds of shuffles and whispers come from beyond the door of the far cubicle, and I force myself into stillness, or I try to. My heart isn’t listening to my silent demand to pipe down.
Then the hushed whispers turn into low moans. My blood freezes, the sounds working their way into my brain and cementing themselves there, making sure I’ll never forget them.
Stephanie’s moans.
Moans of ecstasy and pleasure. ‘Take my dress off,’ she pants. ‘Take it off now, Jack.’
My stomach convulses and I double over, physically retching over the sink. Then the shouts start. ‘Oh, Jack! Yes. Take me here. Take me now.’
‘Stephanie,’ Jack growls.
I run out of the ladies’, the combination of heaves from my nausea and body jerks from the instant tears making me stumble and trip as I go. I feel like I could vomit. Panicked and knowing there’s no way I can go back in the ladies’, I fly into the disabled toilet and slam it shut, bracing my hands on the toilet as I try to regulate my breathing. I feel lightheaded and dizzy. I feel sick and betrayed.
A hopeless sob pours free, and I clench my head to try and crush the tormenting sound that’s looping on repeat in my head. ‘No,’ I sob, falling apart, my body racked with ragged emotions. I have to leave. Now.
I wrench the door open and run out of the gallery, and I don’t stop until I reach the end of the road. I flag down the first taxi and dive in. I’m going to find the girls and I’m going to drink myself into oblivion. I hope it’s enough to take me away from this nightmare. I’ve never ventured there. I’ve not allowed my mind to, but when it’s screwing behind a door in front of you, it’s hard to ignore. I feel hurt. Totally devastated. And fury is burning a hole in my senses. I can’t stop it.