Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
I scowl down at my phone, the reaction instant. Aidan’s got some special sense about the perfect time to mess things up further. Like a homing pigeon who returns to roost on negative press.
Sorry mate the tabloids got out of hand I didn’t mean it maybe we should talk x
“Fucking hell.” The words fall out before I can shove them down as I continue to frown at my phone’s betrayal for letting me even receive this text. In all the chaos, I didn’t block Aidan’s number. Which obviously was a mistake.
I shove my phone away.
There’s a question in Stefanos’ eyes, but he’s too polite to ask. Instead, he focuses on the meal, and I try to forget all about Aidan. When we sit on the sofa with some wine, I finally confess.
“That was Aidan. My ex. Sorry to get upset.”
His eyebrows climb. “The same Aidan behind your, er, media coverage?”
“Ugh. Yeah. That one. The very same.” I sigh.
“You’re not going to respond?”
“We’ll see. I don’t think he deserves a response after what he did. I mean, I don’t want to go on about it.”
“Hardly. I would be upset too if my ex-boyfriend went to the press about me.”
“It’s not just that.” I falter. “He broke up with me by text. On our six-month anniversary, like he’d been planning this. It’s all too well orchestrated, the timing of his interview, to be coincidental.”
Stefanos gives me a sympathetic look. His face softens. “I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault.” I quickly look away and refocus on my wine. I take a long sip. “In hindsight, I should have picked a better boyfriend.”
“You didn’t know he was going to do that when you started dating, right?” Stefanos points out.
“I guess. Feels like I should have known, though.”
“How could you have known?” Stefanos asks. “You hadn’t dated him before.”
At that, I can’t help the laugh that comes. “True. Maybe I should have. Maybe he should have filled out an application to prove his qualifications for dating. That he was a reasonable human. My mistake.”
“I suppose that’s what dating sites are for.”
“Nah. Apps are too much window shopping, not enough substance.” I shake my head, resolute. “And I don’t want general questionnaires. What I need to know is if a guy is going to be a dick. Or not. And how.”
“Custom questionnaire, then.”
I grin. “Yeah. Like… well, I don’t know. The most important part is if they’re going to be an arsehole, followed by are they going to sell me out to the press?”
“Very reasonable questions,” he assures me.
Which makes me wonder then if Stefanos has had his heart broken before. I stop short before I cross-examine him. He’s gazing at me, contemplative.
“What would you ask?” I peer at Stefanos.
“Probably the same, honestly. Maybe… phrased a little differently.”
I tsk at him, and he smiles in response. “I’d evaluate their design choices too. To learn more about their personality.”
“Good to know. Like what?” he asks.
“Like… wall-to-wall greige-on-griege action. I can’t. I can do monochromes if I must, but life is too short for all beige.”
He grins, gesturing around, without any beige to be seen.
Everything in here is white, or nearly. White kitchen, white marble counters and floors, white sofa and throws.
The artwork is colorful, though, and the windows flanked by long white curtains look out at the sea are like paintings.
“What about this? Is my personality blank?”
“It’s intended to make the views stand out. Very successfully,” I say with authority. “For the record, you have a great personality.”
Stefanos laughs. “That’s the creative consultant side coming out of you.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. I like it.” The way Stef looks at me feeds something hungry in my chest, like I’ve been waiting for some kind of assurance.
Not that I need assurances. But it does tell me that he listens to what I say, even if he doesn’t understand creative consultancy work, which is fair.
Most people don’t. Aidan didn’t, for starters.
Freja’s perplexed by my work. Mamma gets it, though. And, of course, Ethan.
“And… and, well, there are textures here too, see.” I point out the linen curtains, the cotton throw blanket, a light wool area rug. The sleek marble.
Stefanos nods, taking it all in. Then I sigh and sip my wine.
“Did we do something wrong in here?” Stefanos asks, anxiety creeping across his face like he’s made an irreparable design choice.
I blink, my mind already racing back and forth on other topics. Like Aidan. “Sorry. No. I love it. I was just thinking of what an arse Aidan is. Sorry to bring him up again. I can’t believe he messaged me.”
Again, Stefanos waits patiently for me to explain, too well-mannered to pry.
“You could come up with your top ten reasons it’s a bad idea to date Aidan and leak it to the press. Or better yet, why you’re a great catch.” Stefanos offers with a grin.
“God, don’t tempt me. I’m so sorry for going on about my ex.” I shake my head. “I shouldn’t waste my time here talking about him.”
“You wouldn’t be upset if it didn’t matter to you,” he points out.
I groan. “Well—”
Then I stop short because I don’t have any witty or, frankly, any other non-witty comebacks. Instead, I’ve got to admit he’s right. Even if I don’t like it. “Yeah. I guess.”
“I had a bad breakup a couple of years ago,” he offers. “My girlfriend from uni.”
“Oh?” Who would have the nerve to have a messy breakup with Stefanos? It doesn’t seem reasonable. I can’t help the curious look I give him, wanting to know more.
“Her name was Emily. She ended up going off with some other guy. Everyone knew about it but me, that they were sneaking around together behind my back. Then I felt like such a fool.”
Unable to help it, I bristle. “She’s the fool, not you.”
“Yeah, maybe.” Stefanos shrugs, glancing down at his wine.
“It all felt awful for a long time. Then eventually, it got better. But I don’t really date much.
I mean, I guess being dumped wasn’t the sign from the universe I needed.
Since then, I’ve been busy with different things and on the move a lot.
There hasn’t been time for much dating. You know how it is with royal schedules, and mine’s nothing compared to yours. ”
“I’m sure it’s not nothing. But it makes sense you’re busy.
” Something sinks in me then, something that has no business at all to sink because Stefanos is a prince, and I’m a prince, and there won’t be any more prince-on-prince action, not after Auggie.
Plus, I’m the one freshly dumped right now.
And I definitely shouldn’t be thinking about dates except for the dates my friends plan to set me up on to redeem my profile from the bad press when I get back to London.
So we sit there considering each other in the quiet for a long moment.
Then I offer, “Aidan wants to talk to me. I don’t really want to talk to him. I’m angry.”
“I’d be angry, too, if I were you. Honestly, I’d be worried if you weren’t.” He grins. “Then someone would need to stage an intervention.”
“Are you offering?”
“I might be.”
I laugh, feeling a bit cheered. “Yeah, I guess. It’s like I had one feeling left, and he stomped it out. I mean, I should have blocked him. I should still block him.”
“Then block him, if you want. Nobody would blame you.”
I pull out my phone, swipe into my contacts.
Something makes me hesitate. Really, the sensible thing to do would be to block Aidan and delete his details and forget about him forever.
Yet I can’t quite bring myself to do it.
I shove my phone away, knowing I’m only setting myself up for more head games. Maybe later.
Maybe I just need a chance first to let the idea of blocking him sink in. Or maybe some secret part of me wants to believe he’s still going to send a legit, heartfelt apology. Which I know it isn’t. He probably just wants more content.
“Do you want to go out? Get some fresh air? See a little of Kerkyra at night? It’ll give you some inspiration for your work, I think.”
I perk up. “I’d love to.”
And I shove any more thoughts of Aidan away.