“But I did take Saturday night off this weekend after our conversation in the garage.”
“Wonders will never cease. Sometime in the next decade you might have worked yourself up to a whole weekend. You know, I just booked a holiday. I’m going to Sri Lanka. Did you ever go in the end?”
I couldn’t remember going anywhere since I’d been to India during university. “No, never. Was I meant to?”
“I remember you saying you always wanted to.”
I squinted. “I did?”
“Yeah. Before we were married you said it was next on your list—we even talked about it as a potential honeymoon before your workload meant we had a three-day trip to Wales instead. I guess you’ve still not made much progress on that list.”
I had no memory of wanting to go to Sri Lanka. No memory of having a list of things I wanted to do or places I wanted to go. I’d thought law had always been my sole focus, but perhaps at some point I’d had other goals as well. “I guess not.”
She shook her head. “I’ll send you a postcard—at least you’ll have a picture to show you what it’s like. I hope one day you figure it out yourself or meet a woman who can get through to you better than I ever did.”
Perhaps I should try to organize my work to have a few more evenings off. I’d enjoyed the night I’d spent with Violet. Talking with someone about something that wasn’t work had been surprisingly fun and the sex had been phenomenal as well.
Gabby stuffed the papers into her bag, and we both walked across my office to the door.
“Take care,” I said. I wanted to give her a hug. It seemed such a weird way to end things. “Enjoy Sri Lanka. I’ll be waiting for my postcard.”
“Good luck,” she replied and gave me a half smile before heading down the corridor.
As I went to shut my door, Violet passed by. I smiled at her but she just looked away and kept on walking.
Twenty-One
Violet
My phone buzzed. Alexander. Again. I flipped the phone face down on the duvet and sat back against the headboard.
“Was that him?” Scarlett asked from the screen of my iPad. After spending most of the evening pouting, I’d finally called her for a video chat and told her about Alexander.
“Yes, the lying, cheating asshole. I should have known better.” I pulled the arms of my soft gray sweater over my hands and crossed my arms.
“I’m glad you opened up to someone,” she said, chopping some unidentified vegetable on the other side of the Atlantic.
“Ha! You’ve got to be kidding, right?”
“I know this is a setback but—”
“A setback? Are you shitting me? I didn’t know he was married. He cheated on his wife. With me. I’m complicit in adultery and it’s all that asshole’s fault.”
More chopping and slicing, for a salad, by the look of it. “I don’t know, Violet. I think you need to give him a chance to explain. Are you sure it was his wife? Maybe they’re divorced.”
“You are so irritating when you’re doing this cup-half-full thing. Don’t you get it? I’m a cheater attractor.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’ve had a hundred boyfriends.” She paused. Boyfriends wasn’t what I’d call them and Scarlett knew that. “Kinda, since David, and none of them have cheated on you.”
I didn’t want to tell her that I hadn’t given them the chance, that I’d tossed them to the curb before they had a chance to get bored with me and find someone else more interesting. “I’m the only one talking sense in this conversation. David was a cheater. Now Alexander. I just want to come home. At least in New York I could attract cheaters and drink diet Dr. Pepper. And it’s Thanksgiving in a few weeks. I could help decorate Mom and Dad’s place.”
“Mom and Dad are in Hawaii for the holiday.”
“Are you freaking kidding me? Do they know they have kids?”
“They know they have grown children who are happy for them to take a well-deserved vacation to one of the most beautiful places on Earth.”
I growled but I couldn’t argue with her. As far as my parents knew, I was going to be in London for Thanksgiving.
“I was going to suggest we all have Thanksgiving at Woolton.”
I sat up straight. Woolton was Darcy’s place in the country. “You were going to fly over?”
“Yes. And I’ll do Mom’s candied yams if you behave.”
I grinned. All wasn’t lost in the world. “I would really like that.”
“Perfect. I’ll make it happen.”
She really could be a great big sister when she wanted to be. “Also, I wanted to talk to you about something I’m thinking about, so it will be good if you come across for Thanksgiving.” I knew Scarlett thought it was a good idea to go back to college, and the longer I spent away from New York, the more it didn’t seem such a ridiculous prospect—more like an opportunity for a do-over.
“What kind of thing?”
I’d prefer to talk to her in person. “Just some stuff I’m thinking about.”
She stopped what she was doing and faced the camera.
“I’ve not decided on anything. I’m looking at all the options, but one of them is going back to school.”
She stayed silent but broke out into a huge grin.
“Columbia, maybe. But I’d need a place to stay and . . .”
“Well, you could stay with us, of course. We’re hardly ever there and if you needed me to lend you course fees—”
“Seriously, Scarlett. I don’t want you to assume this is a done deal. I’m only thinking about it.” I should never have brought it up, except that I wanted to gauge her reaction—see if she thought I was nuts.
“I promise I won’t mention it again until I see you.” With her finger she made a cross on her chest. “And you promise me that you’ll listen to what Alexander has to say.”
I rolled my eyes and edged down the bed, farther under the duvet. “I’m not going to be made a fool of.”
“Of course not, but don’t cut him off without listening—try to stay objective.” She glanced over her shoulder. “I have to go. Gwendoline needs a drink. Just don’t do anything rash without telling me, okay? No quitting your job, you hear me?”
“I promise I won’t resign without telling you first. I love you.”
The screen went dark and I couldn’t help but wish I was with her in Connecticut rather than here in London. How on Earth had I managed to have another guy shit on me after so many years of shit dodging?
The doorbell rang. I flipped my cell over; it was after eleven. The bell sounded again as I forced myself out of bed and my fluffy-sock-covered feet hit the floor.
“Violet,” Alexander bellowed through the letterbox.
I stomped down the stairs and opened the door a fraction. “You’re going to wake the neighborhood.”
“If you’d just answer your phone, I wouldn’t have to be calling through the letterbox.”
I folded my arms across the cardigan I was wearing over my pajamas. “What do you want, Alexander? I’m trying to sleep.”
He frowned. “Can I come in?”
“Of course you can’t come in. I suggest you go home to your wife.”
He drew back as if I’d punched him in the face. “What? No.” The door flew wide open as Alexander pushed his way into the house.