If I’m not going to put myself first and protect my heart, how can I ever expect a man to do the same? No. I need to leave.
But as I towel off and curl up on the bed, I already miss him. I miss his laugh, and how big he is when he wraps around me. I miss his arms, holding me tight, and I miss the lie that I’d started to believe was blooming between us.
That’s the f*ck
ing kicker.
Even as I tell myself it was a fantasy concoction, I miss it so much it feels like a knife cleaving me in two.
I fall asleep, but my phone wakes me up while it’s still dark. My flight isn’t until midmorning. I grab at it, heart pounding. If it’s Scott, will I answer? Will I be able to stop myself from answering?
Fingers shaking, I lift it so I can see the screen.
It’s Hailey.
My heart cracks again.
When I don’t answer, she texts.
H: Scott called me. He said you had a fight. Setting aside the fact that I didn’t know you two were together…are you okay?
A: We’re not together
H: Awww, sweetie, I’m sorry
A: Nothing to be sorry about, it’s fine
H: You’re in England
A: Leave it alone
H: Okay
A: I might need to hide at your place for absolutely no reason
H: We’ll pick you up, let me know what time your flight gets in
I send her the details and turn off my phone. I don’t want to stay with my sister, really, but I can’t go home. Scott will come there sooner or later, and I’m not sure I’m strong enough to ignore him.
—twenty-six—
Scott
Jeff stares at me across his massive desk. “You want me to do what?”
“You don’t need to do it yourself. Just get someone to do it.” I’ve given him a list of tasks I need taken care of here in England. I’m leaving for Washington on an afternoon flight. Ali’s on a morning flight, which I couldn’t get on, no matter how big the bribe. It’s bad enough that I can’t get there to be waiting for her. I’m not losing another day or two just to handle some basic administrative details.
“You want a bathtub removed from your flat and shipped to the U.S.”
“Yes.”
“They sell bathtubs back home. Not sure if you’re aware.”
“Humor me.” And it’s the only part of my flat I care about anymore. If a flame thrower could be taken to the entire building, that would make me happy.
“Fine.” He glances at the rest of the list. “You’ll need to provide our attorneys with an affidavit allowing them to act on your behalf with the banks.”
“We can do that over breakfast.”
He scowls. “I take it this means you aren’t coming to see the nanotechnology lab tomorrow.” We were going to take a helicopter up to Leeds. I thought Ali would enjoy it.
Acid rises in my throat at the damage my secrets caused her. “Not this time.”
“Shame. When we begin the process to go public with Mayfair Enterprises, I’m going to buy the lab from the company. I’d enjoy bringing you into this new venture.”
“Not my dream, bro.”
“Fair enough.” He rocks back in his chair. “I really didn’t tell Madelyn anything, you know.”
I don’t know if I can believe him or not. I do know he didn’t hurt me on purpose, but my brother can be thoughtless. Selfish.
Apparently it’s a family trait.
“Not really my priority right now.” I press my thumb against the throbbing vein in my temple. “How long until we can rouse one of your lawyers from bed?”
“You should get some sleep yourself.”
“Not an answer.”
“I can get them up now if it’s that important.”
Has he not been f*ck
ing paying attention? “It’s that important.”
He picks up the phone. I don’t miss the eye roll. I don’t care.
An hour later, three lawyers are in the boardroom with me, listening to the entire clusterf*ck
tale of my investigatory role when I was here last, how I was found out by John Glandsworth while he was sleeping with my fiancée, accused of spying on the government, and run out of the country with my tail between my legs because of my family name.
“And why wasn’t this…taken care of two years ago when the dust-up occurred?” one of them asks me.
A dust-up. I was a f*ck
ing spy, and because of my family’s wealth, it’s no big deal. “I didn’t want any favors from my father.”
From the corner of the room, where he’s been writing on his tablet, Jeff snorts. “But from your brother…”
I didn’t want to owe him, either. “Desperate times and all that.”
“I can’t believe all it took to bring you back into the family fold was a woman.”
“I wouldn’t say I’m back in the fold.”
“Then why did I summon Mayfair family solicitors—”
The lead lawyer cleared his throat. “Barrister.”
“Whatever,” Jeff waves his hand, and it reminds me painfully, blindingly of Ali talking about the different words the Brits use for things.