Total pages in book: 235
Estimated words: 227851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1139(@200wpm)___ 911(@250wpm)___ 760(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 227851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1139(@200wpm)___ 911(@250wpm)___ 760(@300wpm)
She sees me and loses focus, and the door jolts behind her. Is someone actually trying to fight their way in? “It’s that piece of work,” she hisses, slamming her back into the door again. “I told her, I said, no, not today, and she tried to force her way in! She turned up while you were in Spain too. I warned her, Jesse. I told her to stay away.”
I don’t have a moment to wonder who she is.
“I need to talk to him.”
I stare at the wood, my mouth open. “Coral?” I breathe in disbelief. Fuck, no.
“Yes, it’s me, and I really need to talk to you.”
I look back at the stairs, dread overcoming me. “Fucking hell,” I mutter, going to the door. Ava will be here any minute to find out what had me dashing away as we were about to reenact our first sexual encounter.
“I thought it was Clive,” Cathy says, red in the face, a mixture of exhaustion and anger. I wedge a palm into the door to hold it while encouraging Cathy to the side, out of the way of any flying wood.
“I’ll deal with it.”
“Who the hell does she think she is?” she snaps, yanking at her skew-whiff apron as Coral hammers her fist on the other side.
“Please, Cathy.” I’m breaking out in a fucking sweat here, waiting for the bombs to go off inside the penthouse as well as outside. What the fuck is Coral thinking? And what the fuck does she want? “Go and sort out some breakfast for Ava.” The second I say her name, she appears at the bottom of the stairs, buttoning up one of my shirts, her face an uncomfortable shade of impassive.
“What’s going on?” She looks between my raging, uncomfortable form to the door, as Coral—fuck that woman—persistently hammers on the wood. She’s lost her fucking mind.
“Nothing, baby,” I say, calm but breathless, completely backed into a corner, as Ava stares at the door, wondering who I’m trying to keep out. “Cathy’s making your breakfast. Go.” I jerk my head toward the kitchen. I’m a fucking joke, but I live in hope that my wife might one day actually listen to me and do what she’s told. I don’t need her stressed. Yesterday was bad enough, what with the shitshow her brother brought to the mix. This is not how I wanted today to start.
“I’m not hungry.”
“Ava,” I breathe, feeling my patience fraying. Not with her, but with the fucking nutter on the other side of this door who is hellbent of making my life a fucking misery. “You didn’t eat last night,” I point out. “Go and have some breakfast.”
“I said, I’m not hungry.”
Coral continues to try and push her way in, and Ava continues to stand her ground. God, send me strength, I think as I glance at the ceiling, telling myself to keep my cool. “Ava, why the fuck can’t you do what you’re told?” I ask. “Go. And. Get. Your. Breakfast.”
“No.” She comes at me, eyes on the door, and tries to open it while I keep my back pressed against the wood. “Jesse, let go of the fucking door.”
God damn her. “Watch your—”
“Fuck off!” She goes all out demonic on the door, fighting to get it open.
“Ava,” I hiss, outraged, using one hand to try and pull her back before she does herself some damage.
“Jesse, we need to talk,” Coral yells, silencing us both, as well as halting our physical tussle. Oh, Jesus.
Ava stares at the wood briefly before moving an incensed gaze my way. “What the hell is she doing here?” she asks, catching me by surprise and yanking the door open. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Coral hardly gives Ava the time of day, ignoring my wife and focusing on me. This is not going to go down well. “I need to speak to you,” she says, throwing a death glare Ava’s way. “Alone.”
Ava’s amused snort fills me with dread. I’ve seen the aftermath of her losing her rag. Coral’s on rocky ground. “You’ve got more chance of having tea with the Queen. What do you want?”
I move in closer to Ava, getting ready to hold her back. Her cheeks are flushed, and it isn’t because I was a heartbeat away from getting my dick inside her.
“I asked you a question,” she presses, her body buzzing with anger and disbelief.
“Ava,” I say softly, nervously. “Calm yourself down, baby.”
“I’m calm,” she snaps, very uncalmly, removing my hand from her back. “I won’t ask you again.” What the hell is she doing? I’m stepping in before Ava blows a gasket. So I move around her and hold a warning arm out, daring her to pass the line I’ve just drawn.
“Coral, I’ve told you before,” I say, calmly—not feeling it—not looking her in the eye. I thought she was gone for dust. One less problem to deal with. But she’s been showing up while we were away? And Cathy didn’t mention it? How many other times has she shown up, and why hasn’t she called me? Because she knew I wouldn’t answer. Or, perhaps, because she wanted Ava to see her. This isn’t feeling good. But I haven’t got time for her deluded romantic notions. “It’s never going to happen. You need to fuck off and find someone else to stalk.” Don’t tell me I need to get Cook to sort a restraining order too?