Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100423 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100423 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
My headache returns. I really can’t do Meredith today. If her mother and mine were not best friends, I wouldn’t have to walk on eggshells like this. I take a quick breath and keep my voice even. “We are friends, Meredith, but we don’t have to hang out all the time.”
Her face falls, just a flicker, but I see it—hurt, maybe, or frustration. I don’t care. I’m truly not in the mood to handle any of this now. “Okay,” she says with a huge smile. “I believe you, but … can I at least come visit you at Montrose? I hear you’re planning to spend quite a while there.”
I immediately shut her down. “You know the rules.” My eyes are hard. “I don’t accept personal visits while I’m there anymore. Not from anyone, I’m afraid—not even you.”
She flinches, a sharp little twitch. Her lips part, glossy and trembling, and I brace for the comeback—Meredith always has one, some clever twist to keep the conversation alive, to keep us alive, even after I buried whatever we had. But nothing comes this time.
“Okay,” she says, her voice sounding small and wounded. She blinks fast, like she’s pushing back tears.
For fucks sake, Meredith, save it for someone who doesn’t know better. I take a bite of the muffin and chew callously.
“Alright,” she whispers. The word sounds like surrender. Good. She draws a shaky breath, her fingers twisting the edge of her coat. “I just…” She hesitates, her gaze dropping to the floor, then back up to meet mine, searching for something she can never have. “I miss you and I just want to see you well, Hugh.” Her voice catches on my name, a plea wrapped in nostalgia. She steps closer, close enough for me to catch her perfume. I stare at her impassively.
“Keep in touch? Please?” she pleads.
I don’t soften, and my jaw is tight with impatience as I regard her begging, hopeful gaze. The diamonds on her ears catch the morning light and glint, a reminder of everything she is—everything I now know I don’t want. I want to tell her to stop being such a drama queen, such a narcissist. She’s not the first woman in the world to be dumped, and just because she misses me doesn’t change the fact that we’re done. But I don’t. I look at her coldly and let the silence answer, let it carve the distance wider, until her shoulders slump, the fight draining out of her like air from a punctured tire.
Her goodbye is a tap on my shoulder as she used to do when we were together, and then she heads for the door. The door shuts behind her, so quietly I almost don’t hear it.
My mind shifts to Lauren and, annoyingly, the comparison hits, unbidden but clear as day. Meredith’s is what Lauren’s is not and will never be. Overindulged, selfish, always draped in the latest designer gear, a polished hedonist chasing the next thrill. I didn’t mind it once, thought I’d marry her because, hell, why not? I had to marry someone and produce some heirs to carry the family name and fill Montrose with laughter and life. We’d known each other forever, moved in the same circles, and she knew all the intricate and subtle rules of our society.
Besides, I didn’t expect any woman to hold my interest, not really. But spark turned out to be far more important than I had thought. Everything about her was so shiny, predictable, and boring. When I returned to the manor, started riding, and training my hawks again, I knew she was totally wrong for me. I didn’t want endless dinner parties, balls, and holidays in the Med; I wanted to return to the rudimentary.
So I broke it off.
As for Lauren, I know only that she intrigues, attracts and challenges me. I have to admit that I am drawn to her grit. Hauling junk out of that wreck of a cottage, covered in dust, jeans, no luxuries and of course the guts to tell me to go fuck myself.
I admire her.
Athena comes back into the room and looks through the last document I signed. “I just quickly want to confirm if you saw the clause in the San Corp agreement? I’m not sure how you feel about it so I wanted to point it out.”
My chest tightens, frustration flaring as I realize that I have indeed missed it, distracted, too caught up in a woman who shouldn’t matter this much. I hate being sloppy.
“Send all of them to Montrose,” I say, pushing the contracts toward her. “I can’t focus here. I’ll sign them later today, and you can send someone to pick them up.”
Athena nods and gathers the papers. “Yes, Sir.”
“I’ll be leaving now before more people realize I’m in town,” I call out as I head to the bedroom. After a quick shower, I get dressed in black jeans and a T-shirt and leave the house. I’m excited to return to the manor, I realize as I head down to the garage. I choose the Range Rover rather than the Aston Martin. Tossing my bag in the back, I slide into the driver’s seat and fire it up. The engine growls to life, and I pull out, the townhouse shrinking in the rearview as I hit the open road.