Chapter 8
“This is fucking horseshit! Crappy, smelly, ridiculous, foul horseshit!” I scream, standing in the middle of my living room and looking out the window all the while feeling my father’s glacial stare on my back.
“Nice to see your language has improved exponentially since the last time we spoke.”
I turn around and stare Lord Jonathan Ryan right in the eyes, regretting the second I opened my door to him. Once upon a time, I couldn’t make eye contact with my father. I’d cower in his presence. But once upon a time, I also cared what he thought of me. That is no longer the case.
He stands before me in all his pretentious glory, wearing a custom-cut, three-piece black suit and Gucci loafers that cost every bit of two thousand pounds.
He’s a tall, slender man with deep wrinkles from years of working long hours for his own firm before moving up to the High Court.
His grey hair is short and trim from his weekly cut that he gets every Monday morning, and he still has that annoying habit of fiddling with his Cartier watch when he speaks.
“Well, I can’t believe that you actually think me dating a slutty footballer publicly is going to improve your image. This makes absolutely no sense!”
He peers down his nose at me. “It makes more sense than you being photographed as a common whore.”
I bark out a laugh. “Oh my God, you sound medieval. This is ridiculous. I won’t do it.” I cross my arms over my chest with determination.
“You will, Belle,” he thunders. “This isn’t up for discussion.”
My jaw drops from the nerve of him thinking he can come in here and tell me what to do.
I speak slowly this time. “Father, I am an adult. I am a doctor for Christ’s sake!
I no longer live in your world. I no longer attend your functions.
I’m not in London Society anymore. I’ve disappeared just like you all wanted.
I don’t see how you think you can come in here and dictate what I do. ”
“Belle Ryan,” he roars, his beady eyes twitching with the volume.
“You are still a member of the Ryan family, and you will do what you must to ensure that I don’t lose my spot on the Court.
I know you only care about yourself, but this is much, much bigger than you and your petty needs.
We haven’t asked anything of you for many years, but this is what must be done. End of discussion.”
He turns on his heel and marches out of my flat without a glance back over his shoulder.
Of course he wouldn’t look back. Looking back would show a sign of weakness.
Looking back would mean he cares how I feel.
It’s then that I realise I’m heaving huge gulps of air.
I glance up and spot Indie sitting at the top of the stairs with a terrified look in her eyes.
“Can you fucking believe him?” I exclaim. “He’s outrageous!”
Her face contorts in sympathy as she stands and rushes down the steps toward me.
“That’s not how you speak to another adult.” I begin pacing in front of the window, my mind racing with the weight of years of resentment pushing down on my shoulders. “He can’t snap orders at me as if I’m his property or his subordinate. Fuck! I can’t stand him!”
Indie perches on the edge of the sofa, clutching a pillow to her chest and nodding silently in solidarity.
“Publicly date Tanner Harris?” A barking, angry sort of laugh explodes from a weird place in my belly. “This is the most preposterous thing I’ve ever heard of.”
“It is.” Indie’s nodding her head up and down in complete agreement.
“Right! It completely is. Fake date Tanner? He’s a pig. An animal. He needs to be caged up and vaccinated. Plus, I don’t care about my family or about him, so why the hell would I do anything for any of them? I won’t! I refuse.”
“You should refuse,” Indie adds.
“Exactly! I do great things, Indie! I save babies.” I ball my hands into fists and curse the heavens for this madness.
How is this real life? How do I do what I do all day long at work and come home to shit like this?
“And then he throws the Supreme Court in my face and makes me feel small and inconsequential. For fuck’s sake.
Just last week I helped repair a blockage in the aortic valve of a twenty-four-week foetus. Why does that mean nothing to them?”
“It’s sad.”
“It is sad.” I want to cry. But I won’t. I refuse to do that as well. My family doesn’t deserve my tears. I swallow down the sadness and turn it into anger. “This is all Tanner’s fault.”
“It is. It totally is…”
I look at her, suddenly feeling like she’s been placating me this entire time. “Why do I think I hear a but coming?”
She cringes and reluctantly replies, “Well, would it be the worst thing in the world for you to do this, Belle? I mean, I’m in love with Tanner’s brother. I love Tanner by association. He’s a pig and he’s horrid, but he’s not the worst bloke you’d ever come across, despite what I know you believe.”
“You’ve seen how he’s been behaving recently, Indie. Don’t tell me you turn a blind eye to it.”
“All I see is a man trying to find his way without his brother by his side anymore.”
“Oh stop,” I groan. “He’s not a child.”
“No, listen. Camden and Tanner are twins. Their connection is strong. They shared a womb. They grew up together and now live together. They played football together up until very recently. He’s just adjusting.”
“Shagging half of London is how he adjusts to spending less time with his brother?”
She exhales. “The Harrises are a different type of family. They are very close. Codependent almost. You and I didn’t grow up that way.
Every day that I’m with Camden, I learn more and more how reliant he is on his family.
Bloody hell, he can hardly wipe his arse without letting one of his siblings know. ”
My lip curls. “Gross.”
“Very. But besides all of that, what about your contract at the hospital? This could be an issue for them. You haven’t been there long and you said you’ve been struggling to keep up with Dr. Miller. What if they catch wind of this? You need good press as much as Tanner and your parents do.”
“I hate you,” I moan and drop down onto the sofa beside her, hunched over and pathetic. She’s being reasonable. I hate reasonable. “I’d like to punch you, but your bloody face looks like an angel and I’m afraid it would secure my seat in hell.”
She laughs and shuffles closer to me. “I’m going to say another thing that will make you want to punch me.”
“What?” I side-eye the shit out of her.
“Doing this fake dating thing with Tanner seems like a very Tequila Sunrise sort of opportunity.”
My jaw drops as I flop back to rest my head on the sofa. “Don’t throw Tequila Sunrise in my face, Indie. That’s our thing. Yours and mine. I thought it was sacred.”
“It is sacred!” she exclaims and tucks up beside me, resting her head on my shoulder. “It was only a few months ago that you pushed me into Camden’s arms claiming Tequila Sunrise propaganda. Remember?”
“And you screwed up everything by falling in love with him,” I mumble, missing the friendship we had when we were both single. I’m happy for Indie. I am. But I can slightly sympathise with what Tanner the Slut is going through.
Indie smiles and I can practically feel the twinkle in her eyes. God, she’s so damn happy all the time.
“I’m not telling you to fall in love with him. I’m just telling you to play the part, have some fun, and keep your bloody job.”
I groan in submission, annoyed that I’m going to be helping my family and Testicle Tanner get ahead. I liked living in the dark and openly hating everyone so much better.
“And you know what else I think you should do?” Indie sits up and looks at me with a conspiratorial slant to her gaze. “Figure out a way to mess with Tanner until his balls feel like they’re going to shrivel up and die.”
My brows lift at my scarily vindictive friend, but it’s not a bad idea. If I’m being forced to date London’s sluttiest footballer—a man I loathe—then I’m going to make it my mission in life to torture him while I do.