Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 82767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
“But you aren’t,” I stated.
“I’m glad to be safe. I’m glad to be free of that life, scraping to make ends meet, trying scam after scam to try to make it, then drinking the profits. Being betrayed by other people trying to do the same thing. But I felt like a fraud then, and I still feel like a fraud now.”
“You don’t belong in either world,” I nodded.
“Exactly,” he said, and smiled at me sadly before adding dramatically, “So, that is the tragic story of poor Keegan, who is now forced to sit in his million-dollar condo and tap a keyboard with more money than he can spend, shackled by expensive tailored suits, tortured by beautiful gold-diggers and forced to endure endless Champagne receptions.”
“Those Champagne receptions are not all they’re cracked up to be,” I smiled.
He got up and offered me his arm, and we walked in silence along the deserted streets, with just the occasional couple or group of friends passing by with calls of hello. We hadn’t far to go, and soon we reached the hotel. He paused before we went in. We still hadn’t mentioned what had happened at the pub, and I hoped he wasn’t going to. I needed time to think. I was glad when we went inside and made our way silently up to our floor. A tiny seed of excited hope had come to life as he spoke of his past, hope that maybe he was innocent in all of this. But what hope was there, really? If he was entirely innocent, then I was the one in the wrong.
“I’m sorry,” he said when we reached the door to my hotel room, putting his fingers to my chin and lifting my face gently so I was looking up at him. “I’ve made you sad.”
I wanted to tell him that it wasn’t him who had made me sad, it was my own thoughts about what a mistake I had made ever going to Clover House. But I couldn’t, and so I reached up and kissed him. I told myself this was the last time. It was one last kiss. He returned it gently, and I pulled away as I felt him press harder against me, passion rising too quickly in both of us.
“Goodnight,” I whispered, fumbling for my room key and disappearing as quickly as possible into the room, where I let myself fall onto the bed, tears filling my eyes. But who I was crying for, I wasn’t sure.
Chapter 28
KEEGAN
I LAY ACROSS the couch in my room, staring unseeing out at the lights of the city spread out in front of me. I was arguing with myself. One minute I had made up my mind to go and knock on Effie’s door, and the next I had come to my senses and realized what a stupid move it would be. In the back of my mind, I wondered if she was playing me. One thing was for sure, she was hiding something. It might not be anything bad, but there was something that she was holding back. I could see it in her eyes, and tonight I was sure at one point that she was going to tell me what it was. But again, she had shut me out. It was incredibly frustrating. And the irony didn’t escape me that this must be what it was like to date me.
How many women had complained that I blew hot and cold? That I was emotionally unavailable? Nobody once considered that I was like that because I wasn’t going to unleash this shitshow of emotion onto them. Nobody wanted that baggage. I figured the fact that Effie clearly had her own baggage was what made it somehow easier to share the whole pathetic backstory with her. And she had seemed to genuinely care. She had listened and understood. I thought again about how close she was to me right now, just next door. But which Effie was in there? How many versions of her were there? One minute she was the efficient assistant, the next she was the caring confidante, and the next she was clinging to me, pulling me closer to her body and arching herself into me like she needed me inside her.
This last thought was the one I chose to focus on, and I closed my eyes in the delicious torture of the memory. I’d been hard since the moment she kissed me outside her door, kissed me so intensely that I felt sure I was going to be allowed to follow her into her room. My head flashed with a hundred images, fantasies, of how the night should have played out. And then I reluctantly pushed those thoughts away and went back to the view outside my window.
Effie had distracted me from the issue I had promised myself I would spend this time in Dublin thinking about. It was time to make a decision I had put off too long. I had to choose whether I was prepared to sit out my time at Clover House like some kind of automaton, or if I was going to refuse to let the fact that I was tied to it until I turned thirty-five stop me from pursuing what I really wanted. I had spent months weighing up my options. At first I planned to cut and run, leave Clover House, and forfeit the trust fund. But I knew that I would regret that in time. So, I had come up with another way. A plan to protect my own financial future, my way. But I had to be careful; nobody could find out what I was doing. It had kept me awake for many long nights, but now that I was back home, things seemed clearer.