Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 138003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 690(@200wpm)___ 552(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 690(@200wpm)___ 552(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
Tod hovers in the doorway, his lanky frame backlit. “I just wanted to say, well, two things. First, I’m sorry I upset you the other day. I shouldn’t have kissed Lavender.”
“You fucking kissed her?” The soles of my shoes scrape against the pavers, a burst of anger propelling me to action.
“N-o!” He jerks back toward the light and the safety of the building. “I wanted to, but I didn’t. She pushed me away before you…”
I curl my hands around the doorjamb and lean in menacingly. “Beat the fuck out of you?” You could do it now, whispers a little voice that seems to shout a little louder since Lavender became part of my life. A temporary part.
His brows become one waving line, like he doesn’t understand.
“You realize Lavender’s presence was the only thing preventing that?”
“Oh.” He steps backward again. “Right. Okay.” Another step. “I’m so sorry. Again. Please believe me, I have apologized so hard—I mean—so much to Ned.”
“Who the fuck is Ned?” I step over the threshold, and his eyes widen.
This is too fucking easy. I must be bored.
“Lavender, I mean. It’s just my… my nickname for her.”
Ned. Sounds like the name of one half of a pantomime donkey. Lavender would be the talking part. For sure, I’d be relegated to the ass.
“Lose the nickname, Tod. I’m thinking Mrs. Deveraux might be more appropriate.”
“Yes. Absolutely. Whatever you think.”
Lying turd.
“So what was the other thing?”
He hesitates, seeming to weigh up his options: run away or stand straight and explain it, man to man.
“I came to say thank you,” he says, his tone now resolute.
Maybe the third choice was insanity.
“I know you’ve done this for N-n Mrs. Deveraux, but I truly can’t tell you what it means to have your support. Your patronage, however I’ve come by it.”
“My what?”
“Primrose just told me you bought the remainder of the exhibition. That it’s a sell-out!” He looks as surprised as I feel. “The news will surely spread!”
“It’s your exhibition?”
But he doesn’t seem to hear my disbelief or disgust as he gushes—fucking gushes.
It’s such a privilege…
I can’t wait to see my work in the foyer of your next hotel…
Annoyance flares inside me. Somebody shoot me—shoot me right fucking now.
I’m bankrolling this asshole? Phoning around like an idiot to get people to buy his shit? Buying it myself!
That settles it. It’s all heading for the trash.
“Tod.”
“I’m so grateful. Some artists wait a lifetime for—”
“Tod!” I bark this time.
“Yes, Mr. Deveraux?” His pale lashes flutter rapidly, and whatever I was about to say dissolves. It would be like kicking a fucking dog.
“Don’t mention it,” I mutter gruffly. “Ever. Again.”
“I just…” His gaze dips, and I cast my eyes heavenward. I swear, if this dick starts to cry, I’ll give him something to cry for. Like a black eye. “I was set on hating you, but I just can’t.”
“I recommend it, Tod. In fact, be my guest,” I add with a flourish. Join the horde.
“No, I can’t. And not just because of your generosity.” He folds his arms across his chest, his fingers disappearing at his armpits. His shoulders lift, his posture hunching as he seems to fold in on himself. “I can’t hate you and have N… Lavender in my life.”
“I’m sure Lavender won’t hold it against you, either.” She’d probably encourage it. After all, sometimes she doesn’t like me herself.
“She married you,” he says sadly. “And I told myself that she did it for me—to save me. But I see now that it doesn’t matter why she did because I’ve missed my chance.”
“Your chance at what?” But I already know the answer. I see it as plain as the hawk nose on his face. He loves her. This man loves my wife, and I feel sorry for the bastard.
“It’s going to be fucking rotten, I know,” he says, carrying on like he doesn’t hear me. Like he doesn’t need me to witness this, his admission. “And it’ll be painful seeing you together, but I have to be okay with it because of her. For her.”
“Tod, listen—”
“Please let me finish,” he says, those sad eyes flicking up. “I think I was waiting, that I couldn’t tell her I love her, not when she’s so accomplished. I had nothing to offer her. But I was hoping tonight would change all that. And it has,” he adds with an unhappy-looking smile. “I’ve had my first taste of success, and it’s so bittersweet. Why couldn’t you have just stumbled across my work? Bought it and left me the girl?”
The next time I say his name, I don’t hold back. In fact, I grab him by his neck. Again. The back of it, this time.
“Listen to me, Tod. You never had a chance, not from the minute I set eyes on her. But let me tell you, if you think you’ll utter a word of this to my wife, if you think I’ll let you fucking upset her, you are fucking mistaken. Got it?”