Chapter 2
Zane
I awoke Sunday morning to blessed silence. I would have preferred to have Kathryn in my arms, staring up at me with that seductive grin she’d shown me the night before, but I would settle for the empty spot beside me as opposed to the alternative.
I’d stopped sleeping upstairs a long time ago.
I never really slept in. There was always something better to do, somewhere better to be. And the earlier I rose, the less chance I had of actually coming into contact with my wife. Having avoided her questions last night, I definitely wanted to miss her today, so I didn’t waste time coming awake slowly or enjoying the warmth of the covers around me and the sun on my face. I got up, grabbed a pair of workout pants and tank top from the quick access drawers beside the bed, and hurried to the kitchen. I was hungry, and I needed to be in and out of the main parts of the house fast if I intended to dodge Samantha.
But as luck would have it, my wife had started her day unusually early, and she waited for me like a spider sits in its web and waits for a fly to get caught. I stepped a toe into the kitchen and practically heard alarms go off as she greeted me with a very welcoming, “Where the hell have you been?”
I gestured over my shoulder with my thumb and gave her a sarcastic grin. “I just came from the bedroom over there. You can check the alarm system if you want. I’ve been there since about thirty-one minutes after I talked to you last night. Right on time.”
“I know when you got here, Zane. I was awake. And thanks for that, by the way. I almost overslept this morning.”
I narrowed my eyes at her as I took in her appearance. Her bleached hair – once a natural golden blond – was perfect in a cascade of curls from a single point at the top of her head. She wore a full face of makeup and had donned an expensive black suit with sensible but sexy heels that added an extra four inches to her five foot seven height. Her single-D implants had been plumped so she had a clean line of cleavage inside the suit, and the pale blue eyes that pinned me with icicles of disgust from behind the thick smoky eyeliner weren’t puffy or swollen as if she’d lost any sleep.
“It’s not even eight in the morning, and you look ready to walk the red carpet. I’m sorry if I made that a difficult achievement, but it looks like you managed to work through it all right.” I should have kept my mouth shut. That didn’t go over very well.
“Unless you’ve got your thumb up your ass, you have no excuse for not learning to use it to dial my number and tell me you aren’t coming home. I will not let you take my life away from me, Zane.”
At least she seemed to buy my story and wasn’t questioning where I’d been. “And by life, you mean your money.” She tensed even further and I sighed. “I told you I was sorry. Don’t even pretend it hasn’t happened to you.”
“What are you talking about?” She narrowed her eyes as if she thought I was trying to come up with some random scenario I wouldn’t be able to back up with facts. But I had plenty of ammo in this area.
I scoffed. “Drinking. Getting tired. Passing out without making a phone call you had every intention of making. I know you better than that, Sam. We were in college together.”
She rolled her eyes at me. “We were kids then. You’re a grown man, Zane. Act like it.”
I wanted to tell her I would – I would be a grown man and wave goodbye. I would do whatever I wanted and she had no control over me. Then, I would walk out and go straight back to Kathryn’s. We could spend the day in bed together, and I would be free for the rest of my life.
Instead, I clenched my jaw and cleared my throat. “Look, I can’t fix it, and I can’t turn back the clock. It’s not like you’re really suffering from my mistake. All I can do is apologize and ask you to accept it. We can move on from there. I’m sure we both have more important things to do today than argue back and forth about a phone call.” Or any other lie I had told her. “Can we just drop it already?”
She smirked, and when she spoke, her voice dripped with sarcasm. “Okay, darling, because I’m such an understanding wife, I’ll let you go play around at your little club today.” Her smirk became a snarl. “But you be home in time to dress for dinner. I don’t want you looking like some scrub, and we’re having a real husband-wife affair at six o’clock on the dot. I swear on my grandfather’s grave, if you’re late, there will be hell to pay.”
Dinner. It was a rare occurrence, and I searched my brain for the reason this time. It usually meant guests, and on the whole, the only guests we had were…
I groaned inwardly. “Your parents are going to be here?”
“Well, I guess you aren’t as dumb as the box of rocks I dug you out of. But you should have known already. I saved the date on your calendar, sent you a text and an email, and reminded you two days ago. Yes, my parents are coming in today, and I’m picking them up at the airport. I’ll entertain them for the day, but at dinner we’re going to show them just what a happily married couple we are after all these years.”
I shook my head and tossed the peel from my banana – which now wasn’t sitting so well in my stomach – in the trash. “Sam, we haven’t been happy since our wedding night, when you got the keys to your trust fund. Do you really think your parents believe we’re in love? That we’re happy together?”
She flinched, and it was like a switch flipped inside her head. Suddenly, she gave me a sickly sweet smile and slithered toward me. Ten years ago, it would have excited me. Back then, her looks had still held a certain appeal that aroused me. She had been a little more real, with a little less “perfective surgery”, as she referred to it. She’d been a knockout anyway, and I had to admit she’d never gone overboard in the changes she made to herself.
But as she changed, becoming a controlling, hateful person, her beauty had quickly faded in my eyes. She still had the package, but that package was filled with cyanide, and I wasn’t suicidal. Now, the attempt at seduction made me ill. But I let her draw a perfectly manicured nail down my chest and think she had an effect on me. It was easier than completely rejecting her. “Come on, that wasn’t the only good part of our wedding night, was it?”
I leaned back against the fridge and pretended to think. “Didn’t we have the best champagne ever that night? It’s a little fuzzy. It’s been ten years, and I drank a lot of that champagne.” That part was true; it had served me well, and I was able to ignore my in-laws throughout the entire reception.
“I guess I’ll just have to remind you of the best part tonight, then,” she said, pushing her hips forward in what was supposed to be a come-on. “I promise, if you do this for me, I’ll make sure there is something good in it for you.”
I should have told her to get my car detailed if she really wanted to do something good for me, but it would have just continued the fight, so I let her believe she could use sex to sway me. “I’ll be here. And I’ll put on my happy little boy smile so they can see just what a good husband I am.”
I slid from between her and the fridge, wishing I’d had more to eat but glad I had a stash of nutrition bars in the gym just for such occasions.
As I warmed up, I couldn’t help but think how inconvenient a marriage of convenience could be in the long run. The longer I was stuck in this prison, the worse it got.
My time with Kathryn had erased the tension and stress I’d been fighting for ten years, and in ten minutes, Samantha had successfully piled it all right back on my shoulders. I worked harder than usual through my exercises, and lifted more weight than usual.
The fact that Sam’s parents were on their way to Houston added insult to injury. Of all the times that I had to pretend to be the perfect husband, this was the worst. I would dress in the ‘right’ clothes, use my fake ‘the parents are here’ laugh, and let Sam pull my strings like a marionette. I wondered when she would learn to throw her voice and play ventriloquist, too.
I was so angry I doubled up on reps on several exercises, unable to get all the pent up frustration out. And still, I ended up throwing my towel at the mirror and scrubbing in the shower with such brute force I could have taken my own skin off. It was still early, not even ten, when I’d dressed, done my hair, and put on cologne. I was going to the club, just not the one Sam thought. I needed some time and space, so I was headed to the Purple Dragon.
I’d just clear it with a couple of buddies I had at the Machine, including one of my vendors, so I knew there were people to cover for me. I didn’t want Sam to know about my bartending gig. If she found out, I would lose the one source of freedom and the only control I held over my own life.
The Machine wasn’t something my in-laws found appealing, but it made me a successful businessman, and that was acceptable. The Purple Dragon and bartending would have them turning their noses up at me, and Sam couldn’t allow that. She’d already taken a chance on marrying me instead of some rich, puffed up Ivy League graduate that would have gotten down on his knees and kissed Daddy’s shoes. I had to be respectable.
I looked at myself in the mirror – the light gray button down with the cuffs rolled to my elbows and the tailored dark gray slacks. I grabbed the blazer that matched and threw it over my shoulder. It worked for all the roles I’d be playing today, at both clubs and even through dinner. Sam hated my hair, as did her parents, but as long as it was gelled and well maintained, no one complained about it out loud.
As I left, I grabbed my phone and checked my messages. I had hoped to hear from Kathryn at some point this morning. But there were no missed calls and no texts. I was a little disappointed, but I realized not everyone rose with the sun, especially when they’d been up half the night screaming in ecstasy. The thought helped me recover a little of my initial joy, and I stepped out the door, thinking maybe it was for the best she hadn’t contacted me yet. The way my day was going, Sam would have found a text or answered the call. That was the last complication I needed.