The Forever Experiment

7. Easton

7

Easton

I step off the escalator leading from the lobby to the conference area of the hotel. I know Maya is attending a number of workshops today, but I’m not sure which ones, and I forgot to ask for her phone number before I walked out of the room earlier.

My mind had been reeling.

I got married last night.

I got married, and I can’t stop grinning to myself every time the thought filters through my mind. I can’t stop thinking about how good it sounded when Maya called me her husband, how phenomenal she looked with that ring on her finger—so much so, I don’t regret dropping the down payment of a fucking house on it.

I know, logically, these thoughts—this excitement—are crazy. I’m a lunatic, always have been when it comes to her. There was a pit in my stomach the entire walk down to the chapel, and a twinge of relief when I was told our paperwork had already been filed, that we were legally married.

Now, there is a tornado raging inside my body, elevating all my internal organs and tossing them around because I’ve got to go explain to my wife that she is, in fact, my wife, even though she doesn’t want to be.

And the worst part of it is, I’m not sure I can say the same. I’m not mad about it at all.

After flipping through the conference itinerary, I chose the workshop I thought Maya would most likely be attending, following the directions to the conference room. I arrive just as the workshop is finishing, and sure enough, I catch Maya walking through the double doors with two men on her heels.

They both appear to be young—fresh out of law school, I’d imagine. One is tall, lean, and boyish, the other outrageously muscular but on the shorter side. I don’t like either of them standing so fucking close to my wife.

Fuck. I have to stop thinking that way.

She’s not really mine, and if I allow myself to get in the habit of referring to her as such, even inside my own head, I’m going to hurt my feelings.

They follow her to the refreshment table like puppies, crowding around her as she pours herself a cup of coffee. She hasn’t noticed me yet, but I see her pretty lips set into a deep frown, eyelashes fluttering with annoyance as one of them speaks to her. With her shoulders tense and body rigid, I can’t tell if it’s the two of them being a bother, or if it’s last night’s nuptials still haunting her.

I step toward the end of the table—not close enough to interrupt her conversation or crowd her space, but close enough to hear the conversation at hand, listening for the right moment to step in and steal her away.

“So, what did you have to do to get chosen to be a keynote speaker? I’d love to do that someday,” one of them asks.

“Did you attend my presentation yesterday? I kind of covered it there,” Maya murmurs as she shakes two sugar packets and tears them open.

“Oh. Well, no. There was another speech we wanted to attend.” The other one shrugs. “There was a panel with some guys who have a lot more experience. You get it.”

Maya stands straight, placing a lid on her cup, forcing a smile. “Totally.”

“Bu–but...” he back tracks. “You’re still very impressive, especially for a woman.”

Maya’s entire body pauses, moving in slow motion as she turns her head to him, brown eyes fucking blazing, yet she forces that smile wider. “Can you help me understand what you mean?”

Poor boy looks terribly confused.

“I don’t…” His brows furrow, and the tall man beside him looks queasy and uncomfortable. “It was a compliment.”

“Oh?” Maya’s voice drips with mock ignorance. “How so?”

“I said you were impressive.” His tone is defensive now, and the friend beside him runs a hand through his hair, eyes darting back and forth between them, as if he can’t decide whether to interrupt.

“‘Especially for a woman.’ I believe those were your exact words. I’m just confused by that.” There is innocence in her tone, not accusation. She’s playing it off like she genuinely doesn’t understand the man, forcing him to explain his behavior, and the guy is scrambling .

A smile plays at my lips; my wife looks damn good putting a boy in his place.

“Babe, I was being nice. Take the compliment.” He snorts a laugh, turning to the table as he grabs himself a coffee cup.

The dismissive action sends me spiraling, and I’m suddenly reaching out to grab his shoulder, spinning him so he faces Maya again. She gasps, just realizing how close I’d been standing, her pretty eyes widening when they meet mine.

“I think what my wife was asking you to explain is why her gender would play any type of role in the level of success she’s achieved.” I wrap my arm around Maya’s waist. “Look Mrs. Atler in the eye and explain that to her, will you?”

His nostrils flare, jaw set tight as he gives me a once-over. Sighing dramatically, he turns his attention to Maya. “Sorry. It was a slip of the tongue. I didn’t mean anything by it, really.”

She levels him with a cool stare. “You should take a while to think about why you feel the need to compare accomplishments of individuals in this industry by gender, or whatever other labels you place upon us, and why the accomplishments of men might be more valuable to you than those of women.” She smiles softly. “Take care.”

She steps out from my hold, running her soft hand down my arm as she does so, tangling her fingers with mine. My heart rate picks up as she squeezes and begins walking out of the conference room.

I let her lead me, and once we’re out of earshot, she laughs. “You know, I was going to play stupid a little longer, really torture him.”

“Watching you get disrespected isn’t something I’m willing to tolerate.”

She pauses, glancing up at me with eyes the color of cinnamon in the light. An affectionate smile graces her lips, and she responds by squeezing my palm again. She doesn’t let me go as we step onto the escalator and head downstairs.

“Were you able to take care of our issue?” she asks, and I kind of hate the way she refers to it like that.

“Why don’t we grab lunch and talk about it?”

Her eyes narrow. “You didn’t intercept the paperwork, did you?”

“You say intercept like I’m Jason Bourne or something.” I snort. She does not match my humor. “No, I’m sorry. I missed him. It’s already been filed.”

“Fuck,” she groans, pulling her hand from mine and tossing her head back. “I’m going to have to handle this myself.”

“There was nothing I could do, Maya.”

“You’re a lawyer, Easton. You argue. Plead your case until you obtain the desired outcome.”

I think this is my desired outcome.

I only shrug. “You’re a better attorney than I am.”

She rolls her eyes, and we’re quiet until we reach a restaurant in the lobby and grab a table. She slips into the booth across from me, and I can tell she’s annoyed. I fucking hate it, so I immediately grab her hands, bringing them to the center of the table and placing mine over them.

“I know you’re stressed, and that’s valid, but I promise you, I’ll do whatever I can to get this figured out for us. I’m here with you,” I say. She swallows, eyes dropping as she nods. “And don’t let the outcome ruin the experience, please. Tell me you had fun last night, Maya baby. I’m begging.”

I think last night might have been the best of my life, second only to the night I fucked her.

It kills me she may not feel the same about it.

Her lashes flutter, and a small laugh escapes her as she shakes her head. “Yeah, I had fun, pretty boy. You’re a good time.”

I bring her hand to my mouth, brushing a kiss over her left ring finger, noticing she must’ve left her ring upstairs in the room. “I’ll take care of it.” I lift my eyes to hers. “Of you.”

“Hand kisses are legally binding,” she repeats what I said last night, that breathy tone from the last time I pressed my lips to her skin back in her voice.

“I know,” I say before kissing her again.