CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Four weeks later
“Remember we have the Van De Beer luncheon on Saturday,” Griff said between bites of toast.
At the mention of Kiersten— his ex-girlfriend’s— family I swallowed a piece of croissant too fast and coughed.
Griff leaned over, his eyebrow raised in concern, as he patted my back. “You alright?”
I spluttered, reaching for my cup of tea in hopes the hot drink would force the piece down better. It did and when I could finally speak I made a face. “Since when do we have a Van De Beer luncheon to attend?”
“I didn’t tell you? I’m sure I told you.”
“You didn’t. I would have remembered.”
“Oh.” He shrugged. “Well it’s James Van De Beer’s niece’s twenty-first birthday. They’re having a party at his home in Wellesley. We’ve been invited.”
“I see.” I didn’t really. Amelia said Kiersten had withdrawn her ‘campaign’ against me and although Griff and I hadn’t spoken about it, Amelia and I assumed it meant Griff had had that word with her father after all.
“We spoke,” Griff continued. “James and I. A few weeks ago. I assume since we’ve heard nothing more from Kiersten that he told her to back off. And he also invited us to his niece’s birthday party as an apology. An invitation to a Van De Beer event goes a long way to garnering approval from the rest of society.”
“I can’t believe this crap still goes on in this day and age. These society customs and rules are extremely outdated.”
“In some ways, you’re right. But men and women still do an awful lot of networking at these events. They still have a purpose. And gossip can affect business whether we like it or not.”
“Fine.” My stomach flipped at the idea of attending a party with Griff’s ex. “I take it Kiersten will be there.”
“She will.” His tone went tight. After months of living together, almost six weeks of which we’d spent extremely intimately, I knew what that meant. He didn’t want to talk about it.
Well I did.
The passion between us had not diminished in the slightest. If anything, the closer we grew as friends, the hotter the flame between us seemed to burn. When I’d woken up that very morning with my period, Griff had joked that maybe it was for the best since we’d been abusing each other’s equipment lately.
I’d laughed.
But I’d also been slightly concerned by how much it disappointed me that we wouldn’t be having sex for a few days. My frustration and want for him had not waned in the least. In fact, since my last period and lack of access to my husband, my need it had gotten worse. It was actually ludicrous how much I craved him. My emotions, as they always were during my cycle, were dictated by my hormones. I was feeling more than a little apprehensive about meeting his ex-girlfriend.
The thought made me feel territorial and strangely weepy.
Damn period! Men just didn’t understand how it could make you feel so unlike yourself.
“Will there be any more of your ex-girlfriends at the party?” I asked, attempting to sound casual.
Thankfully being informed about each other’s relationship history had been part of the interview preparation for his father’s lawyers. So I did know the names of his ex-girlfriends and how long he’d been with them so I’d always know if I’d just been introduced to one.
“Hmm, let me think. I should know that since Mrs. Van De Beer includes me in all her event planning.”
I rolled my eyes at his sarcasm. “Your wit is astounding.”
“And you’re trying to push a subject I’d rather leave well enough alone.”
I narrowed my eyes as he read a newspaper while he ate. Our life together, outside of the intense physical relationship we shared, had grown quite comfortable and easy. I slept in his bed every night, even though all my stuff was still in my bedroom. We ate breakfast together, he went to work, I either job-hunted, wrote, or spent the afternoon with Amelia and her friends, Griff and I would have dinner together on the nights he could get away for an hour or so, and then in the early hours of the morning he’d wake me in the middle of the night for sex.
Not going to lie, I often sought him out during the day and early evening too for a quickie in his office.
Every weekend thus far we’d gone to some event or other, and we found that our intimacy made it extremely easy to keep up the pretense of a love match.
Not that I really felt like I was pretending anymore.
The interviews with his father’s lawyers had been extremely nerve-wracking but I got through them. In the end, Griff was granted his inheritance. I think it helped that Griff and I had been left in a conference room together for a while so, of course, he started feeling me up. One of the lawyers walked in when Griff’s hand was up my dress and he didn’t miss it. He seemed amused by it and clearly bought into the idea that we were truly newlyweds.
All of that was great.
Our lives were great.
I was happy.
Of course, there was that voice at the back of my mind that kept reminding me this wasn’t built to last, and although Griff was caring and affectionate, he had shown no signs of wanting to commit to me beyond our arrangement.
And I wouldn’t push.
But it did leave me with my insecurities and, unfortunately, those insecurities were only heightened by my hormones. “The fact that you don’t want to talk about her makes me think there’s something to talk about.”
Griff threw his paper shut, pushed back his chair and stood.
“Where are you going?”
“You think I don’t know that tone?” He raised an imperious eyebrow at me as he buttoned his suit jacket. “That’s the ‘Scarlett has her period’ tone and is ‘feeling aggravated and wants to aggravate me too’. We’re not discussing my past relationships when you’re not yourself.”
Ugh, that was at once perceptive, sensible and offensively high-handed. “Don’t be condescending.”
“I’m not in the mood to fight, Scarlett.”
I practically pouted. “You usually are.”
“Yes, well, I usually can fuck the temper out of you.” He gave me a pointed look. “So if that’s off the table, I’d rather not.”
Of course. We were just about sex after all! I took that as a direct hit and felt the burn of tears in my eyes.
Stupid hormones.
I glanced away so he wouldn’t see. “Fine.”
Unfortunately, he did see. I felt him stand near me, reach for my chin and force me to turn back to him. His expression softened at the sheen in my eyes.
Angry, feeling vulnerable, I jerked my head from his touch. “My period makes me teary. It’s nothing.”
In answer Griff grasped the back of my head in hand and crushed my mouth beneath his. I tried to pull away at first but soon I was moaning into the delicious, hungry kiss. When we broke apart we were both a little breathless. He kissed my nose and straightened, looking down at me with a serious expression. “I’ll give you this and then I don’t want to discuss it ever again.”
I frowned.
“My ex’s don’t matter. Not just because I never felt anything more toward them than momentary desire and casual friendship. But because sex with you has, as you once put it, erased them. No one has ever taken what I wanted to give and given what I wanted to take the way you have, Scarlett. For now I’m happy with what we have, and I have no interest in looking at any other woman. Understood?”
I nodded, pleased and at the same melancholy.
“Now, I trust you. I expect you to trust me in return.”
“I do,” I promised. “I’m sorry… I’m just… you know these events make me a little edgy.”
“I know.” He squeezed my shoulder. “But you always do beautifully.”
I gave him a small smile. Something flickered in his gaze, something like unease, but he quickly smothered it and told me he’d see me at dinner.
***
“I think you’re being too negative about the situation,” Amelia said as we strolled out of Nordstrom on Newbury Street. It was a lovely October day. The sun was shining but it was cool, meaning I finally got to wear the Ted Baker trench coat Anna had picked out weeks ago. I absolutely adored it. It was a purple-blue with pleated skirt and the silk lining was a riot of colorful florals that made an appearance every now and then as I walked against the gentle breeze.
We’d decided to have lunch at the Four Seasons after a morning of shopping. And by shopping I meant Amelia shopping. I’d never met a woman with a bigger shoe collection.
I’d just told her about my conversation with Griff that morning. “He made it clear, twice, in his way that he still thinks we’re temporary.”
“Yes, but has he talked about slowing things down? Has he talked about the future and your divorce since you started sleeping together?”
I frowned. “I guess not.”
“Has he confided things to you that he hasn’t to other people?”
She knew he had. I hadn’t told her what those confidences were but I had told her that after sex we’d often lie in bed talking about our pasts. Memories of his mother. Memories of both my parents. Things his father had done to him. Things my sister had done to me.
I’d never shared more of myself with anyone in my life.
Once upon a time I thought I had with Eric but I realized I’d only ever given Eric all my good and innocence. I never complained about the things my sister did— I always made excuses. I never blamed my parents for making a difference between me and my sister and thus exacerbating the situation (something it had really only taken me now to admit). And I’d never asked for the things I wanted when Eric touched me. When I looked back, my sweet guy, had actually been a pretty selfish lover. It didn’t matter to me. I wanted to give him everything he needed that would make him happy, especially after his diagnosis.
But I wasn’t afraid of that part of myself when I was with Griff. I could give in to any and all my desires around Griff. I could give in to my frustrations and temper.
He had seen every side of me.
And he still wanted me.
“I should never have started this with him, Amelia,” I said, suddenly feeling cold deep in my bones.
“Why not? You two are perfect together.”
“We’re not. That’s the problem. I’ve given him every part of me…” I stopped and looked at her with bleakness in my gaze. “This is going to tear me apart.”
She blanched, understanding that I meant the inevitable end to my relationship with Griff. “It won’t. Because he won’t let you go. I know it. Even Quentin has said so. Griffin needs you, Scarlett. When the time comes to say goodbye, he won’t be able to.”
My friend took my hand and squeezed it in comfort.
God, I hoped she was right.
“Scarlett?”
I jerked around at the sound of my name, dropping Amelia’s hand, and I felt a mixture of regret and unease when I saw Bryce McKellan walking casually down Newbury toward us.
“I thought that was you.” He grinned as he came to a stop.
I’d felt bad avoiding Bryce these last few weeks but I was uncomfortable with the way he’d flirted with me the last time we’d talked. “Bryce. Hello. Amelia, this is Bryce McKellan. He’s a club member. Bryce this is my good friend Amelia Danvers.”
Bryce held out his hand to her. “Quentin Danvers’ wife?”
“Yes. It’s nice to meet you.”
“You too.” He released her hand and looked at me, suddenly seeming a little nervous. “Scarlett, I’ve been hoping to see you around the club. I hoped we could talk.”
Oh God. “I uh—”
“You know there is a sale on in Chanel. I’ll catch up with you at the restaurant,” Amelia said, skipping lightly across the street in her four inch heels before I could stop her.
Damn.
Bryce gave me a sheepish smile. “No need to look so worried. I actually want to apologize.”
“Oh?” I turned and began walking down Arlington in the opposite direction of Chanel toward the The Four Seasons on Boylston.
Bryce fell into step with me. “So… you know Pete Svenson?”
“Yes.” Just hearing the name made me stiffen. The man had been smart enough to avoid me at all cost these last few weeks but that didn’t mean I wasn’t aware of him and keeping my eyes peeled for any trouble he might cause.
“He mentioned in passing that he thought perhaps you and Griff were having problems.”
That little slug!
“I never thought anything of it, of course, until we met. Until we hung out.” He threw me a sad smirk. “I read all your signals wrong. I realize now you were just being friendly. I let my attraction for you override my good sense. And I’m sorry for making you feel uncomfortable and for causing any problems between you and Mandeville.”
Relief suffused me. “I appreciate that. Griff and I are fine. Pete, you say?”
I knew he was playing games with us.
“Yeah. Guess he was wrong.” Color rose on Bryce’s cheeks. “That day in library proved that.”
“Yes, well, I don’t think it’s appropriate to discuss.”
“No, of course, not. God, no. Shit. You must think me an ass, flirting with a married woman. I would never normally do that but that place… man it took me straight back to high school. I felt like an unpopular nerd all over again and you were there being so nice and easy to talk to and beautiful and… well I’m sorry.”
Sympathy flooded me. “Don’t be. I get it. I live there.” I laughed. “I know it can be intimidating.”
“Yeah. I’m getting the hang of it now. Networking. I just… I’m just glad I got the opportunity to apologize and I hope we can be friends.”
Now that I knew he understood where we stood? Definitely. I’d liked talking books with Bryce. “We can still be friends.”
“Great.” He beamed. “Well, I’ll see you around then.”
“See you around.”
Despite the realization that Pete really was trying to be a manipulative little bastard, I actually felt better than I had ten minutes before as I walked to the restaurant to wait on Amelia. I didn’t like how I’d left things with Bryce. At least one thing had happened that day to lift my mood.