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)
“Nice to meet you,” she purrs.
I blast her back with my smile. It’s forced. “And you.” I’ve changed my mind. I’m done already. “Please, the bar staff will see to you.” Translated: fuck off.
But Peterson and his wife don’t get the message, both of them moving in closer. I know what Peterson is thinking. He’s thinking there are a lot of rooms in my manor and eventually all of them will need renovations.
“Thank you.” Irene’s arm brushes with mine. “This hotel is just wonderful.”
She should be taking in this wonderful hotel if she finds it so wonderful. But no. She’s taking in me. Until Ava pipes up.
“Hello, Irene,” she says, edging closer to me. Trample mode activated. “How are you?”
“Delightful. Ava, you look stunning.”
My wife blinks her surprise, and I motion past Peterson to the end of the bar where Mario has poured champagne into dozens of flutes. “Help yourself,” I say, and he promptly pulls his wife away.
“Interesting woman,” I mumble. Terrifying. Gaudy. Really fucking loud.
“She makes Patrick’s life miserable.”
“I can imagine.” That will never happen with us.
Ava moves on her stool, looking past me. “Here’s John.”
I turn, my water halfway to my mouth, but it pauses at my lips when I register his expression. I’ve known this man for twenty plus years. I know when he’s happy, even if he’s grimacing. I know when he’s amused, even when his lips are straight. I know when he’s pissed, even when I can’t see his eyes. And I know when he’s stressed, even though there is not one crease on his smooth face.
He's definitely stressed.
Fuck.
“A word, Jesse.”
A word? Shit, what’s happened? I currently have Ava handcuffed to me, and I know she will kick up a royal stink if, after everything I’ve said, I uncuff us.
I stare at John, begging him to help me out on how to handle this. He stares back. He can’t help me. Fuck. Then he discreetly tilts his head, twitchy, indicating the entrance.
Jesus, is Sarah here? The last thing I want is her walking into the bar. That thought has me reaching into my pocket swiftly and taking the key to the cuffs. It doesn’t meet the lock. Ava wrenches her arm away, cutting into both of our skins. I grit my teeth.
“What are you doing?” she asks, snappy and high-pitched.
I don’t look at her. Don’t want to see the questions in her eyes. “John wants a quick word.” I need to handle whatever needs to be handled and get us both the fuck out of here before our wedding day is well and truly ruined.
Too late, brother.
“Oh, no.” Ava laughs. “You don’t get to release me when it suits you.” She gives our wrists an extra, assertive yank. “No way, Ward.”
“Ava,” I say softly, trying to get the key in the lock. “I’ll be back shortly.”
“No,” she yells, and I flinch, glancing around, seeing a few people looking this way. Yeah, happy couple right here. “Where are you going?” she asks me before repeating her question to John. “Where is he going?”
“S’all good, girl,” he says, as soft as I’ve ever heard him.
“No.” She shakes her head, her lips straight, her face furious. Can I blame her? “It’s not all fucking good.”
“Watch your mouth,” I whisper on a hiss, getting closer to her, trying to conceal her fury from the room, as well as soak up any more bad language she might throw my way. “I’ll be a few minutes.” Less if I can help it. “You’ll stay fucking put, Ava.” I hate to take on a stern tone with her, but whatever’s waiting for me, I really don’t need Ava coming to find it.
She gazes at me, hurt, and it fucking kills me. I look away from her silent form, releasing her, and leave hastily. I spot Elizabeth looking my way, her eyes questioning, so I give her a little nod, maybe to tell her everything is fine, maybe to tell her to step in and go to Ava. I don’t know. My head is spinning.
“What’s going on?” I ask as John and I stride away side by side, through the summer room where the band’s started playing.
“Coral.”
I shoot my shocked eyes his way. “Coral?” Surely not?
“She was at the gates. I managed to keep her out until evening guests started arriving.”
“Fuck.”
“Indeed. I took her to your office. It was that or have her find you in the bar.”
I reach up to my collar and yank it loose. “I thought it was Sarah.”
John laughs. “No. I think she’s too drunk to even walk, let alone get herself here.”
Should I be grateful?
“Hey, man,” Sam calls as we breach the entrance to the corridor to the office. “Where are you going?”
“Just a small issue to be sorted.”
“Oh fuck,” he mumbles.
The female population is in mourning.
I frown at thin air. Hilarious, Jake.