Total pages in book: 204
Estimated words: 193115 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 966(@200wpm)___ 772(@250wpm)___ 644(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 193115 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 966(@200wpm)___ 772(@250wpm)___ 644(@300wpm)
“I would need to measure the rooms and draw up some schemes.”
I’m surprised how quickly she answers, but I certainly won’t question it. “Perfect. I can get John to take you around the rooms. He can hold your tape measure.” Because we both know if I show you around, it won’t be your tape measure I’ll want to hold. “Tomorrow?”
There’s a slight pause. I don’t like it. “I can’t do tomorrow or Wednesday. I’m sorry.”
“Oh.” Fuck me, Thursday feels like years away. “Do you do evenings?”
“I can do tomorrow evening,” she says quickly. That was another rather hasty reply. Has she adopted the same approach as me? Go on instinct? I smile. “Seven-ish?” she asks.
“Perfect.” It’s not perfect, The Manor will be busy, but if that’s all she’s giving me, then I’ll have to work with it. “I would say that I’ll look forward to it, but I can’t look forward to it because I won’t be seeing you.” I start my car and pull out of the parking space, returning to The Manor a happy man. A very happy man. She backed down. I’m making progress. If she truly weren’t interested, she would not be entertaining this. “I’ll let John know to expect you at seven.”
“Ish,” she adds.
“Ish,” I murmur. “Thank you, Ava.”
“You’re welcome, Mr. Ward. Goodbye.”
I roll my eyes at her continued efforts to keep it business. We’re way past that now, and deep down, she knows it.
I think.
I fucking hope.
5
On Tuesday morning before I head to The Manor, I make an impromptu stop off at Harrods to visit Zoe. She’s delighted to see me, as always. “Have you been on holiday?” she asks as we walk through to the men’s department.
“I was skiing a few weeks ago,” I answer, browsing the rows of suits.
“I can tell. You look refreshed.”
I turn a smile onto her and, of course, she swoons. I can’t tell her my freshness has nothing to do with my holiday. “Ask me why I’m here, Zoe.”
“Why are you here?”
“I need a new suit.”
“Just a suit?”
I laugh as I wander to a display, eyeing the mannequin. “Yes, just a suit.”
“And the occasion?” she asks, joining me.
“The reclamation of Jesse Ward,” I murmur quietly, thoughtfully, looking across at her. She looks confused. I smile. “Something navy, I think.”
“I have just the thing. This way.” She’s off and I follow, taking my phone out of my jeans pocket as I go. “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I mutter, and Zoe turns. I wave her off and answer. “Coral.”
“Sarah’s told me I can’t come to The Manor, Jesse!” The panic in her voice is palpable. I step into the men’s changing room when Zoe moves aside, and she holds her finger up for me to wait. I give her the nod, taking a seat on the chair, one leg crossed over the other. I can see it now. Sarah taking the greatest pleasure delivering the news to Coral. Just like the women of The Manor don’t like Sarah, she’s not all too keen on them either. Especially if they’ve been in my bed.
“You’ve missed your membership payment, Coral,” I say as diplomatically as I can. “Twice. What do you want me to do?”
“Please, Jesse.”
I wince, hating to hear a woman beg. In this instance. “What’s the deal?” I ask. I might regret that.
“Mike. He’s canceled all my direct debits and cleared our joint bank account. Since I told him about us, he’s lost the plot. I’m getting it sorted. Please, just give me time.”
Us? Now is not the time to tell a woman in despair that there is no us. God damn it, how do I end up in these situations? I have a fucking knack for it. I’m not a man to relish adding to a person’s problems, so I’ll probably regret this too, and Sarah will blow her stack, but . . .
“I can give you until the end of the month.” I look up when Zoe enters again, laden down with various suits. I stand and let her start helping me out of my polo shirt, dipping my head so she can pull it off, taking my phone away from my ear briefly. “But you don’t murmur a word to anyone, okay?” I say when my phone’s back at my ear. There will be anarchy. Members missing payments is commonplace. Me allowing them to reap the benefits of The Manor when they haven’t paid for the privilege isn’t. No exceptions.
“Of course,” she breathes. “Thank you. I knew you’d understand.”
I kick off my boots and flip the buttons on my fly, pushing my jeans down my thighs.
Coral’s wrong. I don’t understand. I’m the third in the threesome that’s the cause for her marriage breakdown. What the fuck had I been thinking? And why the fuck am I doing this now?