Total pages in book: 184
Estimated words: 176002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 880(@200wpm)___ 704(@250wpm)___ 587(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 176002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 880(@200wpm)___ 704(@250wpm)___ 587(@300wpm)
Josh was right about whispers and rumours. There’s no doubt that Briony knows what Tiff and Josh do for a living, and hence probably me by association.
“Yeah,” Tiff says, all out natural. “He’ll be back later this evening, all ready for snuggles with his honey bun.”
They both beam at me, and my cheeks burn up.
“I’m really glad you’ve come along,” Briony tells me. “Amy was such a bitch. If she hadn’t pissed off so quickly, I’d have told her so myself. Anyway,” she takes up her pad for our orders, “what can I get you?”
“Usual for me,” Tiff says, and I scan through the menu, picking out a spicy chicken stuffed crust that sounds particularly divine.
I’m not sure my stomach will be able to take it when we leave, though. I feel kind of sick, with my head spinning.
Josh is probably there by now. He’s about to get it on with another woman. She’s likely got her pussy spread, begging for his amazing dick. And he’ll be giving it to her… like a Duracell bunny.
“Briony’s great,” Tiff tells me, interrupting my thoughts, thank God. “I’ve known her for years now. So has Josh.”
I try to throw myself into the conversation, banishing the thoughts about Josh and another woman’s pussy.
“Do you know many people around here?”
“Yeah. It’s pretty close knit. Sometimes for the better, a lot of times for the worse. I’d rather that some of the other residents didn’t know I can take two fists for a decent paycheck, but there we go. Word travels.”
I wonder if it will travel like that about me, too…
At least it won’t be yobs on bikes accosting me around these parts. I don’t think you’d see those guys anywhere near Belgravia.
Loaded up with pizza boxes and a bag of freebie sides Briony threw in, Tiff keys in the entrance code to their block and we head back up to Josh’s apartment. I feel quite at home here already, and Tiff makes the homeliness even more natural by putting the food on the side like we own the place and grabbing some plates from the cupboard.
“There’s some prosecco in the fridge, I think,” she says, and I grab it and uncork it while she lays out the pizza and sides.
I hand her fizzing glass over and she raises it straight in the air.
“To you and Josh. And to Belgravia. We’ll all be pleased to have you.”
“Thanks.”
I’m glad Tiff is here with me tonight as we sit ourselves down on Josh’s plush sofa and flick through the TV channels. If she wasn’t alongside me, my brain would be on overload, pulse racing at the thought of Josh with his client. The clock would be tick, tick, ticking at the rate of one agonising second an hour.
I spoke to her plenty last night when Josh was with us, but one on ones are always different – a touch more personal, when you’re out to forge a genuine friendship of your own. She’s great, laughing and joking, and distracting me with chat, but no matter how I seem to sit on the sofa, I just can’t get comfy, and it only gets worse. I’m edgy. All wriggle, wriggle, wriggle as we talk, until finally she reaches out and puts a hand on my knee.
“It’s alright,” she says. “I know it must be flipping you out, knowing he’s with a client right now. But it’s for money. Believe me. It means sweet fuck all.”
“I know,” I reply. “I mean, it’s exactly the same for me when I’m on proposals, and it won’t impact how I feel about Josh… it’s just.” I sigh. “I don’t know.”
“Be honest,” Tiff says. “Say it straight. Voice your thoughts, because you do know. You just don’t want to admit it to yourself.”
Wow, she’s direct. Her gorgeous cat-flicked eyes boring straight into mine.
My insecurities want to choke me, addressed so directly.
I brace myself, and let my words run free.
“I guess I’m scared she’s better than me. And I’m scared he’ll realise I’m not good enough, or smart enough, or cool enough, and that he’s got it better with other people.”
“No,” Tiff says. “It’s not other people, is it? It’s not about every client on his proposal list. It’s other women. Especially one on one. The direct comparison.”
She’s right. It is. The thought of him fucking five guys at once has nothing on him fucking one solitary woman. I’ve got to be honest with myself. It’s the lingering fear from Connor. Of him wanting someone else more than me.
Only he didn’t, did he? Not when it came to it. The pathetic asshole tried coming right back.
“His client tonight is hot, sure,” Tiff says. “Check her out on the forum, if you want. Loads of entertainers talk about her.”
My stomach lurches at her words.
“But,” she continues, “she’s also a pain in the fucking ass. She’s a whiny, entitled bitch, who harps on about everything she could possibly perceive as negative in her grandiose lifestyle. Unless you plug her mouth up with cock, that is. Thank fuck she likes deepthroat.”