“Okay.” I get up from the table. “You’re right. I’ll get ready.”
“Fab!”
“Thank you for not telling Dan why I’m here.”
She smiles as we leave the kitchen together to get ready for a quiet drink and a chat.
He’s constantly on my mind, and I’m trying my hardest to put him to the back, but when we walk into Baroque and the first person I see is Jay, the doorman, I give in. He frowns at me as I walk past, dropping all conversation with a fellow guard, but I proceed to the bar without a word.
“Wine?” Kate asks, as she muscles in at the bar.
“Please.” Casting my eyes around, I immediately spot Tom and Victoria. I tap Kate on the shoulder and she turns her head slightly. “Did you know they would be here?”
“Who?”
I nod in the direction of Tom and Victoria, who are dancing over. They have no idea what’s happening in my life. “Barbie and Ken,” I quip dryly. I can tell by Kate’s eye roll that she didn’t.
“Love the dress!” Tom croons, stroking my midriff.
I look down at the tight black dress that I borrowed from Kate. “Thanks.” I take the glass being handed over Kate’s shoulder.
“You okay?” I ask Victoria.
She fluffs her hair and sweeps it over her shoulder. “Amazing.”
Oh? Not good or great, but amazing? “That good?” I ask, wishing she could transfer some of that amazing over to me.
“Yes, that good.” She giggles.
“She’s in love again.” Tom nudges Victoria in the side, spiking a heavy scowl from the pretty blonde.
“I’m not, and that’s rich, coming from the man-whore here!”
Tom looks genuinely shocked, and for the first time in days, I laugh. It feels good. Kate joins us, and with a lack of free tables, we just stand near the bar, chatting. He’s still floating around in my mind, of course, but my cunning best friend is doing a great job of distracting me for a while.
That is, until I look up and see him.
My heart doesn’t speed up…it stops. I’ve not seen him since Monday, and if it’s even possible, he looks more devastating than ever. I know immediately that Jay has called him, and I also know I’m probably going to be hauled from the bar, but that doesn’t stop my eyes from slowly dragging up his jean-clad legs, onto his white shirt, up his neck, and finally onto his face—the one that sends my eyes delirious with pleasure, even when I’m mad with him. He doesn’t look mad, though, and he doesn’t look like he’s been drinking. He looks fresh, healthy, and as spectacular as ever. And every other woman in the bar thinks so, too. They have noticed this breathtaking male, who’s striding across the bar, some even following him. His sparkling greens land on me briefly and my heart resumes beating…very, very fast. His face is expressionless as he stares at me for a few seconds before he slowly pulls his gaze away without so much as an acknowledgment to my presence. Then he continues to the bar with a flurry of women in tow.
I’m crushed, my racing mind thinking up all sorts of explanations for his quiet absence over the last four days—where he’s been, what he’s been doing. He’s clearly not mourning his loss. He looks arrogant, confident, and sickeningly handsome—just like he did on the day I met him. They are all familiar traits to me, but right now, they are all enhanced.
Uncertainty and raging jealousy are strangling me, and I’m still staring at him, watching as he assaults the women surrounding him with that fucking face, making them disintegrate on the spot.
Oh yes, there he is, my husband, looking like he’s just landed from planet fucking perfect. My eyes narrow as I watch a woman in a red dress stroke his arm, and I literally hold myself back from physically removing her. I’m very aware of the silence in our group, so I drag my eyes away from my bastard of a husband and see Kate watching me closely, Tom dribbling along with the other hussies, and Victoria scuffing her ridiculous heels on the bar floor. I shake my head on a little laugh and take a massive swig of the wine I’ve been carefully sipping, flicking my eyes briefly over in his direction. He knows I’m watching. If he wants to play games, then I’m willing, and I don’t plan on settling for anything less than gold.
“Let’s dance.” I down the rest of my wine and slam the glass on the bar before pushing my way through the small crowds until I find myself on the dance floor. When I turn around, I find my three loyal friends have all joined me.
Kate looks nervous. I make a snatch for her wine, but she swipes it away. “Don’t be stupid, Ava,” she warns in my ear. “I know you’re still pregnant.”