Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 63862 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63862 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
“How do you feel about Italian?”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Your stomach just growled.”
“That was just… indigestion. You’re giving me a stress ulcer.”
“In that case—” he said, hitting the call button that had Madison immediately moving out from behind her desk.
“What are you doing?” I asked, my spine stiffening.
“Madison, would you see to setting up Layna with a full spa day?”
“What?” I asked.
“Full-service,” he clarified.
“Of course.”
“I don’t—”
“Within the next hour.”
“I will arrange it,” Madison said, nodding, then let herself back out of the room.
The frantic way she reached for her phone and typed on her computer told me that this was a big ask and was going to require some wand-waving.
“I don’t want a spa day.”
“You just admitted you’re stressed.”
“And the one way to remove my stress is to sign the papers.”
“How about we discuss the papers,” he said, biting off that last word, “this evening. After your spa visit.”
“Why can’t we—”
There was a small beep from the intercom on his desk, making his head turn to glance toward the waiting room.
“I would rather talk to you, but I have a meeting,” he explained.
My gaze followed his, finding a very serious group of three men and a woman (all in their fancy suits with briefcases in hand) standing at Madison’s desk.
I might want an expedited divorce, but I didn’t actually want to screw with his business. Especially since, clearly, dozens (if not hundreds) of people relied on him for a paycheck.
“Fine,” I grumbled, chugging my coffee, placing the mug on his desk, then getting to my feet.
By the time I did, Harrison had his sleeves down and his jacket back on.
“Madison will text you the details about the spa.”
“How does she… never mind,” I said, sighing.
He had my number.
Of course he did.
He seemed to know everything about me. And I knew so little about him.
Maybe I should spend my afternoon figuring out as much as I could about the man I was now married to for the next few weeks or months.
Harrison went to the door, opening it for me. But we walked out as a pair. I wasn’t sure if he synced his step to mine or if I’d done mine to his subconsciously. Either way, we arrived at the group at the same time.
“Lila, Marcus, Ed, Elliot,” he greeted them, offering his hand to each.
“Harrison,” Marcus greeted.
His gaze cut toward me.
“Oh, of course. This is Layna,” Harrison said, his hand going to my lower back. “My wife.”
I didn’t know who was more shocked, his associates or me.
Because while I could see him talking to his subordinates about me, it felt crazy for him to introduce me to business partners. Especially knowing I was doing everything in my power to dissolve this absurd relationship.
The men’s gazes went to my face; the woman’s, to my hand.
“It’s nice to meet you,” I said, my voice tight. “I’ll… let you get to it,” I added, stepping out of Harrison’s hold.
“I’ll see you later,” Harrison said.
“Uh… yeah,” I replied as I moved into the elevator.
What the hell was that?
Before I could even wrap my head around it, though, I was walking through the lobby again, and my phone was dinging with my spa reservations.
“Mrs. Valentine?” a voice asked once I stepped outside.
I was really starting to dread people using my name. Each time someone did, it was a new situation that felt like it knocked the world off its axis.
“Yeah?” I asked, turning to see a man in a black suit standing near the curb.
“I’m John. Your driver.”
Of course he was.
CHAPTER TEN
I didn’t actually intend to go to the spa. But the second the driver got me into the backseat, he set off in that direction.
And, well, a massage didn’t sound horrible.
Especially if it was already set up.
“So, how does this work?” I asked John when he opened the door for me at the spa situated in an unassuming gray building with blacked-out windows and a suit-clad doorman.
“How does what work, Mrs. Valentine?”
“I’m supposed to meet with Harrison later.”
“I will bring you to wherever you’re meeting.”
“Okay. But how do I get in contact with you?”
“I’ll be here.”
“Here?”
“Waiting for you.”
“You’ll just be… waiting for me to finish at the spa?”
“That’s my job,” he said. “I’m your personal driver.”
“What about Harrison?”
“He has his own driver.”
That tracked.
“This is insane,” I mumbled to myself.
“Hm?”
“Nothing. Well, I’ll see you in a bit, I guess.”
“Mrs. Valentine,” the doorman of the spa greeted me as I approached.
“This is getting out of hand,” I mumbled, but offered him a smile as I passed through.
The whole spa smelled comfortingly of lavender and vanilla, and I was quickly whisked away to a private room where I was given a robe to change into and a list of all the spa options.
Apparently, Harrison had paid for all their services.
To an eye-watering sum of money. Which made me feel like I had to have all the treatments done, so it wasn’t a waste.