Chapter 3
Chapter Three
MERRY
I stretch in bed, the Egyptian cotton sheets crisp against my skin even after a night’s sleep. Light pours through the French doors that overlook the pool, enticing me out of bed.
Padding across the cool marble floor, I open the double doors, letting the sun warm my face. The smell of bacon floats on the breeze from the main house on the other side of the pool.
My stomach rumbles as I inhale, filling my lungs as if I can already taste it. Alex must be cooking up a storm in there, though I don’t remember him being much of a cook when we were married.
“Sleep well?” Alex rises from the pool like an Olympian Greek god with his hair slicked back, rivulets of water running over his toned body as he climbs out in one slick move.
My eyes rake over his chiselled abs, as if sculptured by Michelangelo himself. I’m sure he asked me a question, but for the life of me, I couldn’t tell you what it was.
He takes the few steps towards me, his bare feet leaving wet footprints along the paving, his shorts dripping water onto his muscular thighs.
His finger reaches up to my chin and lifts it, closing my gaping mouth. “How was your first night?”
“Spectacular.” Though I’m not talking about my night; my mind’s still fixated on his body.
A shiver travels the length of my spine, and suddenly I’m aware of my nipples standing to attention under my nightshirt.
Oh crap. I’m in my nightshirt, which is basically a t-shirt that barely covers my thighs. I cross my legs, remembering how I ditched the bottoms in the night because it was too warm.
My ex-husband’s eyes travel down, darkening as they meander over every curve of my body, then zero in on my breasts. “Smash the patriarchy?”
“Huh?” I tug at the hem, willing the fabric to stretch over my dimply thighs.
He points to the faded slogan on my t-shirt. “I can’t believe you still have that old thing.”
Glancing down at the faded graphic, a memory of us invades my mind. It must have been twenty years ago. I’d just got home from a rally, Finn was at a friend’s house, and Alex flew in from the States after being away on business. All I remember is him running his hands underneath the t-shirt, caressing my bare skin as his lips devoured my mouth.
I wonder if he’s remembering it too, the way his lips curl into a smile. I tug at the neck as if fanning myself, my cheeks incredibly hot.
“You okay?”
“Don't mind me. I'm just having a tropical.”
His brow furrows.
“A hot flush.”
“Oh.” He rocks back on his heels with a smirk. “Do I still have that effect on you?”
I glare at him. Even though he's right, I'm not about to admit it. “No, but the menopause does.”
“Right.” His shoulders drop along with his smirk. “Breakfast should be ready now. Come over to the house.” He takes a few steps towards a sun lounger and collects a towel.
“Wait. If you’re here. Who’s cooking breakfast?” I point a finger between him and the big house.
“That’s Blanche, my housekeeper. She wanted to cook an English breakfast for you.”
I vaguely remember Finn talking about Blanche. She was practically his nanny when he came to visit. I shouldn’t be surprised Alex still has a housekeeper. With my busy schedule, I employ a cleaner. “Let me get changed and I’ll be right over.”
“You look fine as you are.” With the towel, he rubs his short hair, mostly grey at the sides, his eyes still taking in all my curves as if committing them to memory.
“I’m not meeting your housekeeper, braless.” My arms fold across my chest, trying to hide how low my breasts hang without a bra.
“I’ll see you over there when you’re ready, then.” He turns around and the muscles in his back are just as hypnotising as his abs. He’s clearly been working out.
I turn back into the bedroom with a huff. He probably has his own gym. Gazing at myself in the full-length mirror, I smooth a hand over my messy hair and rub my eyes. I was dreading meeting Alex in person again after all this time, and now he’s seen me at my worst.
The thing is, I’m not embarrassed like I thought I would be. I really don’t care. It’s not like I’m vying for his affection. The man dates thirty-year-olds as if he’s still in his youth. He wouldn’t look twice at me even if I wanted him to. Which I don’t.
Maybe a little.
Who am I kidding?
After dressing, I push the back door open to the big house and gingerly step over the threshold onto pristine white marble tiled floors.
“Merryssa, it’s such a pleasure to finally meet you.” A large elderly woman wraps me up in a hug.
Alex peers over his newspaper at the breakfast bar. “Merry, meet Blanche. Blanche, this is Merry.”
“I’ve heard so much about you. I feel like I know you already,” she says with a smile as she lets me go before squeezing me to death.
“Really?”
Alex sips on a black coffee.
“I’ve made a full breakfast. Please help yourself. There’s fresh coffee in the pot.” She waves a hand over the buffet set before me. “If you want me to make any special requests for dinner this evening, I can pick up the ingredients from town today.”
My eyes widen, wondering if she cooks all his meals. “I’ll have a think. Thank you.”
“I’ll get on with the rest of my duties, but please let me know if there’s anything you need.” She disappears into another room as I fill my plate with bacon, sausage, and egg.
“Lovely woman,” I say, climbing onto a stool across from Alex at the breakfast bar.
“Blanche has been with me since our divorce.” He sets the paper down on the counter.
My chest tightens as if something is squeezing my heart. The decision to put myself first and ask for a divorce was the most difficult thing I’ve ever had to do. I often question if I made the right decision, and if he’d have come home and begged me to reconsider, I probably would have.
I remind myself I did it for Finn. Alex has always put his career first. I know he was just trying to make a better life for us, like he had something to prove, but it was hard on Finn when Alex would fly out at the drop of a hat because he needed to be in Dubai or the US.
Things were much more stable after the divorce. Boundaries were set, and Finn knew when he was going to spend time with his father and when he would be with me. It was much more structured and forced Alex to schedule time with his son, rather than fleeting moments between deals.
“I’m surprised you’ve kept a member of staff so long. You must pay her well.” I snort out a laugh, knowing I couldn’t work for him. He can be extremely bossy and overbearing at times.
“Blanche is like family. She’s used to me.” He takes another sip of his coffee. “So, what are your plans today?”
I chew the food in my mouth and swallow it down. “I have some work to do. Then I’m meeting Shelly for lunch with her mum for her final dress fitting.” I pour a glass of orange juice. “I thought it was lovely that she invited me. Having a son, I thought I’d miss out on all the bridal fun.”
“She’s a thoughtful girl. Finn couldn’t have picked a better match. She’ll look after him.”
My spine bristles. “I hope I’ve raised a son who will also take care of his wife, and not some male chauvinist pig.”
“There's the woman I married. I wondered how long it would take for the claws to come out.” With a chuckle, he sets his coffee down, clinking against the saucer. “I hope you’re giving them all a run for their money in parliament.”
“Of course.” I shuffle in my seat, a smile curving my lips. “What are your plans today?”
“I have a few meetings.” He checks his watch. “I have to leave in a few minutes.” He sighs. “Max Cross wants to renegotiate the terms for the sale of his land. I swear, I’m losing patience with this man.”
“Where is it?” I blow into my cup of coffee.
“A place called Candy Cane Key. I’ll take you there, if Max Cross ever agrees on the sale. It’s a lovely little town, similar to here.” He checks his watch again. “The car’s here. I have to go. Are you going to be all right?” His brow wrinkles as if concerned. “If there’s anything you need, just ask Blanche.” He pulls out a business card. “This is my PA at the office if you can’t reach me, and I have a driver, Gaz. Or Gary if you want to call him by his proper name.” He hands me another business card. “He'll take you wherever you need to go.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“All right. I’ll see you tonight. We’ll have dinner together. We can either eat out or Blanche will cook us something. I’ll leave it to you to decide.” He leans down and presses his lips to my cheek.
I stop chewing my food, letting it sit on my tongue for a moment as I try to remember how to breathe.
It’s like he’s forgotten too, as he pauses inches from my face, like he’s just realising what he’s done. This living together is too nostalgic. Is it the t-shirt I was wearing this morning that’s put him in a spin?
He clears his throat, then straightens his spine as he fiddles with his tie. “I’ll see you tonight.”
I swallow the food on my tongue before I choke on it. “Okay.”
He turns on his heel and strides out of the kitchen, but the scent of his aftershave lingers in the room, making me dizzy. It’s as if I’m drugged on it. I haven’t forgotten what it was like to be married to this man. His work always came first. But so did mine. Looking back, we were both as bad as each other.
After eating, I open the dishwasher and lift my plate from the breakfast bar.
“No, no, ma’am.” Blanche scuttles across the room, dropping a laundry basket onto the floor. “Let me do that for you.” She takes the plate from my hand and loads it into the dishwasher.
“It’s okay, I can help you.” I lift an empty glass and place it in the top rack.
“Mr. Fitzpatrick wouldn’t like it, ma’am. Please let me do this for you.” She shoos me away from the dishwasher.
“Well, Mr. Grumpy isn’t here.” A giggle leaves my mouth as I lift Alex’s plate from the breakfast bar and hand it to her.
“Thank you, ma’am, but I can do this.”
“I know, but I want to help you.” I hand her Alex’s empty coffee mug. “So what’s Alex like to work for? Is he a scrooge?”
“Oh no, ma’am. He’s very generous. When Alex told me yesterday that you were staying here, I wanted to make your first day here as comfortable as possible. I wouldn’t trust Alex in the kitchen, ma’am.”
I giggle again. “He’s still bad, then? He’s the only man I know who can set fire to grilled cheese.”
She shakes her head with a smile. “This kitchen has been redecorated three times because he got distracted with a phone call and left something cooking. He works too hard.”
The doorbell rings. “That’ll be the flower delivery.” She rushes to the front of the house, wiping her hands on her apron.
I stand with a gaping mouth as three delivery men carry flower arrangements through the house.
Blanche directs them around and sends one of them across the pool into the guest house with a huge red and green bouquet that resembles Christmas.
“Does Alex always have the house full of fresh flowers?”
“Oh, no ma’am. He ordered these yesterday, wanting to brighten the place up for you.”
Madison brings a tray of prosecco into the luxurious fitting room at Happily Ever Afters.
Celeste and I take one and clink our glasses together in cheers, while Shelly steps behind the curtain with Daphne to try on her dress.
I look around at the white and gold room with large ornate mirrors and plush seating for guests. “What a beautiful space you have here, Madison.”
“Thank you. I love planning weddings. Each one is so unique.”
Celeste points her glass in Shelly’s direction behind the curtain. “Our Shelly’s will certainly be different with a marquee on the beach.”
“It’s going to be a beautiful day,” Madison says while opening a box of tablecloths in a sea-green colour. “Finn’s spared no expense, which makes my job a lot easier when I don’t have to keep to a budget.”
Celeste places her hand on mine. “You’ve raised a wonderful man. Our Shelly would have been happy to marry on the beach in her shorts and t-shirt and toast s’mores afterwards, but Finn said he’s only getting married once and he wanted to do this properly. Ain’t that right, Shell?” she shouts through the curtain.
“Yes, though I think shorts and a t-shirt would be easier than getting into this dress.”
My face beams with pride at hearing her talk about my son. “How did you and Marley meet?” I ask Celeste.
Her smile widens as if recalling the memory. “We were both volunteers at the nature reserve when we were in high school and we’ve been together ever since.”
“That’s lovely.” I take another sip of the prosecco, the bubbles tickling my nose.
“How about you and Alex?”
My mind wanders back to our first encounter, which wasn’t that different to how Finn met Shelly. It must in the genes. “I was protesting in London. A small patch of green space was up for sale with planning permission to build an apartment block. Alex bought the land and gifted it to me in exchange for a date.”
“How romantic.”
“It was. I turned the patch into a small park with some benches with the help of the community. It’s a stone’s throw from my home and the place I always go to think, work, eat lunch.”
Behind the curtain, Shelly says, “It’s too tight. I can’t breathe anymore.”
“I don’t understand. I went to the measurements,” Daphne says.
I look between Celeste and Madison, their brows wrinkled as we silently wait for more of their conversation, but all that I hear is a sob from behind the curtain.
Celeste rises from her seat and pokes her head behind the hanging velvet fabric. “Everything all right?”
“It doesn’t fit, Mom.” Shelly pulls the curtain to the side. The back of her dress gapes open where Celeste places a hand, wrapping her in a hug.
My heart sinks for her. This was meant to be a happy occasion.
Daphne fiddles with the back of the dress. “Don’t worry, Shelly. We can fix this. This is the whole point of having a fitting so we can iron out any problems before the big day.”
Shelly sniffles into her mum’s shoulder. “But we only have a few days. I just wanted to look nice for Finn. He’s spent so much money on this wedding. I wanted to make him proud and look my best, you know. He always sees me in shorts and t-shirts.”
I stand and place my prosecco on the table. “Sweetheart.” I take the few steps towards the cubicle, unable to sit on the sidelines any longer. I pull my daughter-in-law to be into my arms. “Finn is already proud of you. The way he talks about you, he couldn’t be prouder. He wouldn’t care if you turned up on that beach wearing pyjamas as long as he got to call you his wife.”
Madison comes into the cubicle. “She’s right. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. And I’ll tell you a secret that he told me. He’s only spent so much money because he wants to make this wedding the best for you. His request to me was to give you whatever you asked for. He doesn’t care what type of napkins you have or tablecloths. And I don’t think he’s gonna care what you wear, as I don’t think you’ll be wearing it for long.”
My lips lift in the corner. “Not the mental picture I want when I think of my son.”
“Oh sorry, ma’am.”
A small laugh bursts through the tears on Shelly’s face.
Daphne gets her tape measure out, running it around Shelly’s waist. “It says here your waist is several inches bigger than it was six weeks ago.” She opens her notebook, finding Shelly’s details. “I don’t understand. I measured you several times, so I know it’s right.”
Celeste smiles, tucking a blonde curl behind Shelly’s ear. “I’m blaming Phoebe from Just in Queso. Her tacos are just too delicious to resist.”
Shelly’s smile pushes her cheeks up, forcing the swell in her eyes to drip onto her face. “Finn does like a taco.”
I bet he does. The whole world knows how much he likes tacos from the photograph that was published in the London Daily . I think “Shell Diving” was the headline.
“Shelly. You don’t think you could be pregnant?” Daphne says.
My heart flutters. Hope swells in my chest like a balloon that I don’t want to burst. I always wanted more kids, but with the menopause, that ship’s sailed. The next best thing would be to have a grandbaby. Even better that I can give them back and just get to be the grandma who spoils them rotten.
Shelly’s teary eyes grow as big as the ocean.
“When was your last period, honey?” Celeste says, her face animated with excitement.
“I don’t know. I’ve had so much going on with the turtles and the wedding, I haven’t kept track.” Her hands rest over the lace on her stomach, a smile stretching across her face. “I have been feeling nauseous, but I thought it was just wedding nerves.”
The balloon in my chest inflates a little more. “Madison, we’re gonna need another glass of prosecco and a nonalcoholic one for Shelly.”