Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 122506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 408(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 408(@300wpm)
“Have you tried?”
“Of course I have.” Haven’t I?
“Well, can’t say I blame her.” Matt sniffs.
“Remind me not to come to you for sympathy.”
“No, I mean from what you said about her last fella. She’s gonna find it hard to trust anyone after the way he fucked her over. Maybe even confuse caring for control. Or who knows, maybe you confused one for the other . . .” His words trail off, his expression bland.
“I’m not him,” I retort. “I’d never hurt her.”
“But how does she know that after all the shite that’s written about you on the internet?”
“Everyone knows it’s bullshit.”
“Ah,” he says, holding up a pondering finger. “Is it, though? You’ve been a mad shagger as long as I’ve known you.”
“Thanks.”
“If you’re different from her ex, you need to prove it to her. All the ways he fucked her over, you have to show her you’re not like that.”
“By not sticking my dick in other women? Too easy.”
“She was jilted, arsewipe. That’s going to throw anyone’s center off balance. Meanwhile, that fame chaser is telling the world Mila’s not good enough, that you’re still that mad shaggin’ man whoor.”
“You don’t read that Little Bird bullshit, do you?”
“Well, you obviously have. So much for the ‘I don’t give a fuck what people say about me,’” he retorts with a dismissive wave.
“I’m just keeping an eye on it. For litigation purposes.”
“Oh, aye. That’s bound to help,” he answers heavily.
“It might. It’s just inconsequential bullshit.”
“It’s easier for people to believe the bad, though. Especially if that’s been their experience.” He pauses for a beat to study me. “Have you done anything that might make her doubt or mistrust you?”
“No, I—” I would hardly give Machiavelli a run for his money. I might’ve manipulated one or two outcomes. But that’s not what I was doing when I suggested a house-clearing company, and she almost bit off my head. She called me controlling. And maybe it seemed that way, but . . .
“You’re either a really bad liar or just relationship dumb.”
“I thought you came to help.”
“This is me helping!”
I rub my hand through my hair. “Can you just fuck off elsewhere? Please?”
But Matt just folds his arms and stretches out his legs. “Take Oliver. A shrewder fucker I’ve yet to meet. Every move he makes, he’s already calculated three possible outcomes and at least that many moves ahead. But look at the mess he made of things with Evie. That eejit ended up chasing her halfway across the world, taking himself off to a jungle where he could’ve easily been bitten by a snake or sold to rebels to be ransomed back to us piece by bloody piece.”
“I wouldn’t have paid,” I mutter.
“So I say again, what might you have done to make her mistrust you?”
“Nothing.”
“Apart from the shit you pulled with Evie, giving her ‘Mila’s business card.’” He encloses the final three words of his statement in physical speech marks.
“That wasn’t underhanded. I didn’t even know if Evie would bother looking her up.”
“Sure.” His expression twists. “You would’ve made some sign to Evie, and she would’ve gone off on one of her do-good quests like a terrier down a rabbit hole. She would’ve found out what her ex had done, and Bob’s your uncle—as well as your driver—and Mila is suddenly Evie’s wedding woman.”
“Her wedding woman. Coordinator. Whatever. Nothing to do with me. Like I said, I just gave Evie Mila’s card.”
“And a hint. And that’s all it would’ve taken.”
“Stretching, Matt.”
“Is it, though?” He pulls a superior expression. “It put her in your path. The question is now, What are you gonna do to keep her there?”
I’m still pondering the question long after he’s left my office, when I pick up my phone. And do the opposite to his advice. It might look like another case of control, of manipulation, but it’s desperation that turns me mildly Machiavellian. Or so I tell myself as I make that call.
I might lose everything. But I’ll risk it all for her.
Chapter 32
Mila
“It was lovely to meet you both,” I say, shaking hands with the couple of my fourth introduction meeting this week, this one nothing to do with my marriage to Fin but a referral from a wedding I planned last year. They’ve also booked a date, woo-hoo!
“Thanks for making time to meet us at the venue.”
“It’s such a perfect hotel,” I offer. “Space for the ceremony, the gardens, the private cocktail bar. It really does have it all.”
It is a lovely place. And I’d found myself standing outside for a moment or two before coming in, and my reflection in the glass doors made me smile. My hair, though a little wild, looked good on me. My new pantsuit smart and functional but also stylish. I’d looked good, and I’d felt good too. And it had made me realize I hadn’t felt like that in a while.