Total pages in book: 235
Estimated words: 224334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1122(@200wpm)___ 897(@250wpm)___ 748(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 224334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1122(@200wpm)___ 897(@250wpm)___ 748(@300wpm)
Your age doesn’t matter. She loves you.
It’s both a relief and a worry, because if thirty-seven isn’t an issue for her, then maybe mid-forties isn’t either, and that’s exactly where Freja’s ex-husband is. Don’t tell me Van Der Haus meets with all the interior designers of his projects. No. He has an army of staff to do that and feed back to him. I’m not worrying over nothing. This is something. Van Der Haus knows who I am. He knows his wife has frequented the rooms of my manor. That was enough for him to hold a grudge. Now he also knows his wife was in my bed. If he finds out I’m seeing Ava? His ego would never take it. Or does he already know? Has Freja disregarded my threat? Is that why he’s called a meeting with Ava today? These are all questions Freja could answer, if she would only take my fucking call.
My stressed sweat is very real. “So, when are we going dress shopping then?” I blurt after the waiter clears our table, grappling for my coffee to dampen my dry mouth.
“Friday lunch?” she suggests, looking less than enthused.
“That’s cutting it a bit fine, isn’t it?” She’ll find a dress in an hour on her lunchbreak? I remember the last time she found a dress on her lunchbreak. The dress didn’t live long.
“I’ll find something.”
“Put me in your diary for Friday afternoon,” I say as the bill lands. “All afternoon.”
Her frown is so cute. “What?”
I pay, watching her across the table as she slowly figures out what’s going down here. Me. Taking the power. She can’t deny me. She owes me.
“Make Mr. Ward a Friday afternoon appointment,” I reiterate. “Say, one-ish. We’ll go dress shopping and there will be no rush to get ready for the party.” Heaven.
“I can’t book out my whole afternoon for one appointment,” she protests. And Miss Unreasonable is back.
“You can and you will. I’m paying him enough.” I rise from my chair and push it tidily under the table. “You need to tell Patrick that you’re living with me.” I give her an expectant look. “I’m not pussyfooting around him for much longer.”
She accepts the hand I offer, impatience adorning her face. She has absolutely no chance of a win today. “It will make things awkward,” she argues, letting me lead her out. “He won’t be impressed, Jesse. And I don’t want him to think that I’m slacking instead of working if I should have any business meetings with you.”
I hope he does give her a hard time. It’ll only happen once. She’ll quit, I’ll set her up in business so she’s her own boss with no one to please but me, and all will be right in my world. “I couldn’t give a fuck what he thinks. If he doesn’t like it, you’ll retire.”
“You’re going to trample him, aren’t you?”
I smile but don’t answer. I don’t need to. I swap a fifty with the valet for my keys and turn into Ava. “Are we friends?”
She melts into my chest, her face nuzzling into my hand on her cheek. “Yes. Thank you for breakfast.”
“Anytime.” All the time. Maybe I could take her for lunch now. Or to The Manor to continue with her work for me. I know I’m hoping in vain. “Where are you going now?” I ask, latching on to my lip. Yes, I saw who she’s meeting. Problem is, it sent my vision red so I couldn’t see where she’s meeting him.
“The Royal Park.”
“Near Lancaster Gate?” I ask, and she nods. “I’ll take you.” I quickly attach my mouth to hers, kissing her with force, thrusting my groin forward, eliminating any chance of her protesting. I’m taking her. End of. What I don’t know yet, though, is what the fuck I’m going to do once I’m there.
Find him.
Kill him.
I laugh at myself, mainly because I’m not joking. I need to be rid of him, and yet I can’t do a fucking thing without revealing Ava’s and my relationship and that would be a bad, bad move. Unless, of course, he already knows, in which case my clock is ticking a lot faster than I’d like.
I pull Ava to my car, place her in the passenger seat, and round the back, searching for an answer to my predicament. There isn’t one. I drop into the seat, rev the engine aggressively, and pull off fast. Fuck, this isn’t ideal.
“What am I going to tell Patrick?” Ava asks.
“What?” I ask. “About us?”
“No,” she sighs, motioning back to The Ritz. “About our business breakfast. What have we discussed?”
“Tell him we’ve agreed fees,” I say. “And that I want you at The Manor on Friday to finalize the designs.”
“You make it sound so simple.”
I reach for her knee and hold it. “Baby,” I murmur, hating seeing her so subdued. None of this needs to be an issue. Another solution. Another problem. “You make it sound so complicated.”