Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 126818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 634(@200wpm)___ 507(@250wpm)___ 423(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 634(@200wpm)___ 507(@250wpm)___ 423(@300wpm)
“Don’t pretend you are capable of forming an attachment to anyone or anything other than money, including this delectable little creature.”
He turned to smile at me, satisfied. “Does she know?”
There was no point in pretending I didn’t know what he was talking about.
“Yes,” I lied.
He chuckled. “Nice try. She doesn’t, but she will. And once she does, she’ll dump you.”
“Tinder’s an interesting kid,” I poked back.
“Yeah.” Andrew propped his elbows on the bar, still watching our families. Persephone wrapped her lean arm around a column on the balcony, spinning and laughing. Tinder followed suit, and Tree joined them. Joelle looked on, a grim smile on her face. “I give him all the support and help he needs.”
“Your love and support can’t fix his nervous system.” I tilted my head back, downing my cognac.
“I’m having a real good time fucking up your business, putting billboards next to your office, arranging demonstrations, suing your company for all it’s worth. What do you have to say about that?” He grabbed a drink from the bar and took a sip. “Oh. That’s right. You never curse. How is that working for you?”
I turned to him. I could count on one hand the things that managed to pierce through my armor these days.
Andrew Arrowsmith was one of the few.
So was my wife.
“Let’s cut to the chase, Andrew. Drop the lawsuit, or I will make you lose your job, then your home, then your reputation, exactly in that order. The Arrowsmith fingerprints are all over Royal Pipelines from decades ago. All it takes is one dig inside the company’s records”—I snapped my fingers—“and everything you’ve built will crumble like a stale cookie. The apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree,” I assured him. “My father left you penniless and forced you to scale back on your dream and potential, and if you push me to it, I will make sure your kids won’t be able to afford the clothes on their backs and the bread in their stomachs.”
Andrew took a step forward, getting in my face.
“Don’t forget I have something on you, too, buddy-boy.”
“A condition, not a scandal,” I cemented.
“Condition or not, I bet your father still doesn’t know his golden boy is anything but precious metal. Doesn’t know the extent of embarrassment you’ve caused the Fitzpatrick name. You touch Green Living, and I will make sure everyone in the world knows your story. Your history. The ugly lies and uncomfortable truths. It’s either economic carnage or a private bloodbath, Fitzy. Your pick. But I’ve a feeling you already came to terms with the fact I’m going to destroy Royal Pipelines.”
The women appeared in our periphery before I delivered a comeback. Andrew took a step back, bowing in Persephone’s direction.
“Mrs. Fitzpatrick. May I have a dance?”
If she was uncomfortable, she didn’t let it show. She placed her hand in his. I used every ounce of my self-control not to pounce on him and rip her from his hands.
It was just a dance. Besides, it was great practice for seeing her in someone else’s arms. Which was something I was destined to go through in a few years, after she gave me heirs and officially threw in the towel on my sociopathic ass.
We would turn into my parents.
Civilized strangers, linked by commitments, common interests, and social ties.
I was left alone with horsey Joelle and her unbearable twins.
It was Joelle’s turn to drape herself against the bar, a cunning smile smeared on her ill-fitted lipstick.
“She’s a darling.”
“She will do.”
I should peel my eyes away from Persephone in Andrew’s arms, but I was fascinated by what it did to me. To my insides. My head throbbed.
Mrs. Arrowsmith’s eyes ignited with curiosity.
“That’s not a glowing review for a wife you can’t seem to stop staring at. How’s being a newlywed treating you?”
My gaze glided down her face. No wonder Andrew couldn’t take his eyes off my wife. His looked inbred.
“I thought shotgun marriages were a thing of the past,” Joelle continued, tapping her lips, ignoring her children, who were off running between the legs of the couples on the dance floor. “Everyone is wondering if you two have a little bun in the oven.”
I wish.
Jackson Hayfield, an oil baron from Texas, caught my eye from the other side of the room and saluted me. I saluted back, treating Mrs. Arrowsmith as if she were air. For all I cared, that was exactly what she was.
“It is my understanding that this is Persephone’s second marriage.”
“Do you enjoy talking to yourself?” I wondered, checking my phone for emails. “You seem to be holding this one-sided conversation well. A telltale of your marriage dynamic?” I knitted my eyebrows together.
Her smile faltered, but she didn’t back down.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to come off as forward. I just think it’s so brave, what you’re doing. My husband told me about your condition, and well…” She trailed off, playing with the necklace on her neck.