Chapter Eleven
They’d arrived at the business event, and God, did Freya feel out of place. She stared at the incredible house she was in, or more accurately, the mansion. It was huge, three stories high and as wide as she could see. The event, from what Elijah had told her briefly, was about fundraising for a cervical cancer center. The wealthiest of men and women were at the event, and they hoped to raise enough that they’d be able to break ground by next year.
The decorations were extravagant and lavish, with crystal chandeliers, butlers in livery, soft classical music being played, and people dressed in gowns and tuxedos. It was like money dripped from the ceiling, and that was the biggest reason Freya felt like she didn’t belong. Her father may have had money, but he’d never gone to functions like this. He was modest in most ways, and she’d liked that kind of lifestyle.
She’d been here for the last half hour, with Elijah by her side the whole time. They were currently moving up the massively wide staircase, Elijah holding her hand, and a champagne glass in her other.
A young man dressed just as impressively as everyone else here, strikingly handsome, and who had a thick European accent, walked up to them and started speaking with Elijah. Freya stared at Elijah as he spoke with the man, and she couldn’t help but feel her body heat at the remembrance of what they’d shared in the limo. She thought about how he’d touched her, whispered filthy words to her, and the promise of what he could give her between the sheets. She wanted to leave the event now, go to his cabin, and just let him claim every part of her.
God, she needed to calm down or she’d end up embarrassing herself.
The upper level of the mansion looked like it had been cleared out for the event. Table and chairs dressed in crisp white linen now covered the flooring that was covered in thick, gold-hued plush carpet. There was a balcony lining the top of the landing, beautiful scroll worked wrought-iron bars that looked like they sparkled with crystals because of the lighting from the chandeliers.
It was a gorgeous atmosphere, and she felt lucky she was able to experience it, especially with Elijah.
Elijah moved closer to her, took her arm and slipped it in the crook of his. He placed his hand over hers, continuing to speak to the man about a merger. After about five minutes the men parted ways, but before they could move as well Elijah turned her in his arms and pulled her close. He tipped her head back with a finger under her chin, smiled down and her, and leaned in to kiss her softly. It was sweet, but arousing all in the same breath.
He broke away, breathed out harshly, as if he were having trouble with the act, and then led her over to one of the tables marked “Reserved” in elegant script. It had only been a few weeks they’d shared together, but they had been incredible weeks, ones she hoped she experienced more of with him.
He pulled out the chair for her, and she felt her face heat as she blushed. “Thank you,” she said, and took the offered seat. He leaned in and kissed the top of her head, and then took a seat beside her. More people came and sat at their table, and before too long waiters in black and white livery were setting plates of exquisite looking food in front of them.
They ate for the next half hour, the people at the table striking up conversation that was mainly about the fundraiser and not so much on a personal level. But Freya didn’t say much anyway, and just listened.
“Will you dance with me?” Elijah asked after they’d finished eating and had a glass of wine. His face was close to hers again, and his cologne swirling around her was intoxicating, drugging almost.
“No one has ever asked me to dance.” She swallowed back her embarrassment, but then chuckled when he cocked a brow, as if surprised. “I might humiliate you with my inexperience, and the fact I’ll be stepping on your toes the whole time,” she teased. Of course she could dance, but lightening up the atmosphere was fun, and she liked doing it with Elijah.
He brushed his thumb along her jawline. “As long as you’re the one stepping on my toes, I’d be the luckiest man to have you in my arms.”
God, where had this man come from?
He stood, held his hand out for her, and after she got her knees to stop shaking from her affection for Elijah, she slipped her open palm in his and stood. Elijah led her to the center of the open floor that was clearly for dancing, and as the soft classical music played around them, she let herself fully embrace it all.
But as she rested her head on his chest, let herself just slip into the wondrous embrace that Elijah provided, and was about to close her eyes, everything stilled in her. There, across from her and only a few feet away, was Meghan sitting at one of the tables. She was dressed in a gorgeous red gown, diamonds in her ears, around her neck, and covering her fingers. A man sat beside her, at least in his seventies, although looking good for his age. He also screamed wealth, which was the type of man Meghan went for.
“Oh my God,” Freya whispered, not meaning to say it out loud, but knowing she had when Elijah pulled back and looked down at her with confusion.
“What’s wrong?”
For a second she couldn’t speak, especially not when Meghan started laughing. She tilted her head back, the diamonds on her neck catching the light. And then she turned her head slightly, lifted her hand to get the waiter to notice her, and for a second their eyes locked on the other. Meghan blinked a few times, straightened, and realization covered her face.
“Freya, sweetheart?” Elijah turned and looked over his shoulder, and the shock on Meghan’s face when she saw the man Freya danced with was Elijah was like a slap to Freya’s face.
It was like time stood still, like neither could move or speak. Hell, they couldn’t even breathe. Then, because this wasn’t awkward enough, Meghan said something to the older man, stood, and started walking over to them.
“God, of course this is getting worse,” Freya whispered, and when she tried to move a step back from Elijah she was surprised that he kept her close to him.
“Fuck her, Freya.”
That had Freya smiling. Yeah, fuck Meghan. But that was easier thought and said than what their reality really was.
“Oh my God, I wasn’t sure if that was you two, but here you are, in the flesh,” Meghan’s nails-on-a-chalkboard voice was as loud and clear as ever, and it reminded Freya of all the times she’d been in the house with her.
“Meghan,” Elijah said in a tight voice, but still kept Freya close to him.
Meghan stared at both of them for a few seconds, and then there was realization on her face.
“What the fuck?” Meghan said in a soft, but still screechy voice. “Are you two…” She let that hang in the air, and when Freya and Elijah didn’t deny anything, Meghan snorted, shook her head, and a look of disgust covered her face. “Is this what you two were doing when I wasn’t at home?” she looked pointedly at Elijah. “Were you fucking her while married to me?” Meghan raised her voice, and Freya noticed several people looking over at them.
“Keep your damn voice down,” Elijah said, and pulled Freya behind him. “And I’d never do that while I was married, and to a teenager. You’re sick.”
Meghan crossed her arms over her chest, glared at both of them, and then shook her head again, as if she couldn’t believe any of this. “So then how did all this come about with you two?”
“It’s not your business.” Freya was the one to speak. She moved away from Elijah, knowing that she wasn’t that teenage girl that on a deeper level felt inferior to this woman.
“Wow, not the shy, timid little thing you were back in the day, are you?” Meghan said and smiled, but it was far from friendly.
“What Elijah and I do is none of your business. In fact, us breathing hasn’t been your business for over four years, Meghan.”
Meghan pursed her lips, and looked over Freya’s shoulder at Elijah. “Robbing cradles now, Elijah? I didn’t think that was your style.”
“Robbing graves, Meghan? That is so your style.” Freya pointedly looked at the elderly man Meghan had been sitting with, the one that screamed money. She also shouldn’t have stooped to Meghan’s level, but the bitch had this coming.
“Excuse me? So because you’re grown now and have Elijah at your back you think you can speak to me this way?” Meghan scoffed. “If it wasn’t for me staying with you after your dad died, forced to take care of his kid, you would have been homeless.”
Freya just stared at Meghan, and a part of her, a part that she really didn’t want to rise, couldn’t help but feel sorry for this woman. “I feel very sorry for you, I really do.”
Meghan’s eyes widened before they narrowed.
“You’re a lonely woman, and always will be. The fact that you look for love in the wrong places, in the places that are covered in dollar bills, makes me feel so incredibly sad for you, Meghan. One day you’ll have nothing but the money you so desperately needed in your life surrounding you. You’ll have no one, Meghan, because no one will love you.” Freya turned and looked at Elijah. “I don’t know about you, but I think I’m ready to go.”
“You uppity little girl,” Meghan ground out. “How dare you speak to me that way, and how dare you just stand by and let this … child—”
“Meghan, marrying you was the worst mistake I ever made, and staying with you all those years was like a hell all in itself,” Elijah said, this thickness in his voice clear. “And when that divorce was final, I swear this weight was lifted off of my shoulders, and this freedom filled me. I didn’t think I’d ever have that kind of pleasure fill my life again.”
Meghan made an outraged gasp, but Freya was too stunned by what Elijah said to pay attention to her.
“But then I saw Freya again.” He pulled Freya close to him and wrapped his hand possessively around her waist. “And I realized that the greatest feeling wasn’t when I got that divorce from you finalized, but when I realized I loved Freya.”
And the world turned upside down, the earth opened up, and she knew if Elijah wasn’t holding her she’d fall right in. The way he sounded told her he spoke the truth.
“But the past doesn’t matter anymore, Meghan, because I’m looking forward to my future, and that future is with Freya.” And then Elijah turned, and he and Freya walked away from a stuttering Meghan, out of the mansion, and into the waiting limo. She knew, just knew, at that moment that this was the man she’d be with, that this was the man she wanted to be with. She loved him, and she hadn’t realized how much until this very moment.