FIFTEEN | Icebreaker | Tinsley
FIFTEEN
Icebreaker
Tinsley
I dressed up in a gold satin dress with one shoulder exposed and a high slit up to my mid-thigh. I wore rhinestone gold heels with leg ties—I was dressed to kill. This was all Holly’s idea, and the clothes were one hundred percent from her overwhelming wardrobe. But I had to admit, my best friend had expensive taste.
The panic I once had after receiving Mitt’s text had diminished, and we had created a plan of our own. I’d meet him at the restaurant wearing the hottest outfit Holly owned and bring him a little gift. A present wrapped up with delicate care, hoping to make him come out of the darkness—the chilly place where I couldn’t reach him, but maybe my offering could.
I made a brief stop before I arrived an hour later at the Elegant Empire restaurant with paparazzi everywhere. They wouldn’t leave Mitt’s sight, and as soon as I left the limousine, cameras turned my way. Voices roared like wildfire throughout the light snowy evening and a chill ran down my spine. I hugged the fur coat tighter around me as lights blinded my eyes, and my hand shielded my face to refocus on the restaurant door.
“Mrs. Morgan! Mrs. Morgan! Why are you and your husband arriving separately?” a photographer shouted over multiple voices. “Trouble in paradise?”
I wanted to yell that it was none of their damn business, but what good would that do?
Instead, I continued my walk on the sidewalk toward the main entrance and ignored everyone around me. My focus was solely on the surprise I had for Mitt tucked against my side as I made my way inside the Elegant Empire and away from the hungry vultures who nipped at my ass. A scuffle sounded behind me, and I turned around in time to see a man push through the doorway with flashing lights from his camera, headed straight for me. Frozen on the spot like a deer caught in the headlights, I watched in horror as he stumbled and fell in my direction. But a boulder of a man in a fancy tuxedo saved the day, and he grabbed him by the shoulders. He took no shit and escorted the frantic man back outside.
Close call.
He almost stepped on the hem of the gold dress and the thin fabric would’ve ripped in two. What a complete disaster for all of New York to see—me in my underwear, making front-page news. Holly would be furious with me.
I regained my composure and locked eyes with a server. “I’m here for reservations with my husband.”
“Yes, Mrs. Morgan. He’s expecting you. Please, right this way,” he announced without hesitation and turned around.
The restaurant was empty and not a customer was in sight. Flabbergasted, I followed his lead through the fancy establishment, and I couldn’t understand why the restaurant wasn’t busy. It was dinnertime and New York City buzzed after working hours.
“Are you sure you aren’t closed?” I asked, puzzled by all the empty tables. “No one else is here.”
“Mr. Morgan prefers to dine alone and shuts down the restaurant when he comes here,” he answered with a quick glance over his shoulder and he chuckled. “You have a lot to learn about your husband, Mrs. Morgan.”
“I guess I do,” I muttered under my breath until I found myself unable to breathe.
There was Mitt, rising from his seat in a deep burgundy-gray suit with a white dress shirt underneath and a killer smile. Time stopped while I checked him out and probably had drool at the corners of my mouth. He adjusted his tie and stepped forward with his hand touching the small of my back.
Immediately, shivers of heat crawled up my spine from the contact as Mitt pulled out my chair and he whispered in my ear, “Did you enjoy my limousine, Wife?”
“I did,” I answered with a small smile of satisfaction that turned into curiosity. “How did you get here?”
“I took a dreadful cab,” Mitt responded with a hint of irritation in his tone.
Good.
I gave my husband a hard time, as I had planned, but if Mitt wasn’t careful, there would be much more where that came from. My dearly beloved had no idea I could be a bitter bitch when I wanted to be. He should proceed with caution.
“You should try the subway next time. It’s delightful.”
Mitt softly chuckled but cut the moment short.
“I thought you might not show,” he added.
Lost for words, I turned to him and my eyes landed on his delicious mouth. The pad of his thumb stroked the small dip in my backside, and I was putty in his hand. He had me yearning for more, longing for his kiss and soaking wet between my thighs.
“I almost didn’t,” I admitted after I found the will to breathe again.
“That would’ve been a shame,” Mitt said in a husky tone and came closer, with his whiskers brushing against my cheek.
“Why?” I asked in a soft whisper.
“Because I dropped over half a million so we could be alone.”
Mitt’s response made me dizzy, and I swayed, but my hand gripped the table’s edge. My knees were weak, and I melted at his feet. I was like a snowman basking in the hot sunshine, becoming nothing but a puddle, all because of one man. My husband.
Wait a minute...
My head shot back, and I snapped. “That’s a lie. The server told me you do this all the time.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Yes. It. Is,” I heaved and pointed my index finger against his chest with each word.
Mitt grabbed my defiant finger and brought it to his mouth as he breathed against my skin, “I’ve always come alone, never with a woman. Until you, Wife.”
“Aren’t you forgetting someone, Son?” Cyprus questioned from behind Mitt.
Shit.
I should’ve known Mitt’s father wouldn’t be far behind. My husband’s word had gone up in smoke ever since he revealed his grand plan of only owning me for business purposes. The remembrance stung all over again, and I pulled my finger away from him.
“Cyprus. I should’ve known,” I breathed as I took a step away from Mitt and took the seat he had pulled out for me.
“We have to keep up appearances, don’t we?” Cyprus said with a raised eyebrow as he took his seat and laid his napkin out in his lap. “Especially after your hasty departure from the estate.”
My blood boiled, my hands formed fists in my lap, and I was ready to let Cyprus have it—teach him a lesson by treating him the way he treats others and giving him a black eye to display publicly. One quick punch would do justice, but I was sure I wouldn’t leave a dent. He was a dangerous man with thick skin, someone I shouldn’t mess with, and the look in his evil stare proved my point. I’d be fighting fire with fire, and we’d both go up in smoke.
“It wouldn’t have been so quick if my husband didn’t blindside me.” I smiled and killed him with kindness. “Or have been threatened by you.”
Cyprus grinned. “I appreciate a woman who stands her ground.”
“And I appreciate honesty and not lies, Mr. Morgan,” I said as I peered straight at Mitt, who didn’t even flinch from my remark and he ordered an expensive bottle of wine. “But I can see that everything isn’t as it seems.”
Or was it?
“As you should, Tinsley. We Morgan men have one thing on our minds and that’s money,” Cyprus admitted as he glanced at his son and took the glass of wine from the server. “Wealth that you’ll have at your expense and nothing more. This arrangement is strictly for business. Isn’t that right, Son?”
Mitt remained silent. The sharpness of his stillness was intense. It was a thick cloud of nothingness. The quiet was awkward yet almost frightening until Cyprus cleared his throat and called Mitt’s name again.
“Yes. Strictly business,” Mitt agreed and peered right at me.
Stone-cold hazel eyes were all I got. No emotion, only darkness. My husband’s icy demeanor hurt, but I couldn’t let his poor attitude win. I wanted to take his gloominess and sprinkle him with happiness. My surprise might just do the trick.
“On that unpleasant note...” I announced, and I picked up the gift for Mitt and passed it over to him. “I have something for you.”
A spark of brightness shot through his eyes, but it was brief. The glimmer I had witnessed gave me hope for the man I had longed would come back, and he’d call the deal off. He’d cut all ties with his father, and we’d start fresh. But this was only wishful thinking, and I was getting ahead of myself.
Cyprus glared. “Don’t I get one too? After all, I am your father-in-law.”
Don’t fucking remind me.
“Maybe another day,” I answered, but watched Mitt intensely. “This is specifically for my husband and is a late wedding day gift since I missed out on the opportunity.”
Mitt blinked and gazed up at me through hooded eyes. “I can’t accept it.”
“Yes, you can, after everything you did for me. You were generous, kind, and caring to me.” I turned away from Mitt and smiled at Cyprus. “You raised a wonderful son.”
Every word was utter bullshit, and a jab meant to hurt. A purely fake appearance to twist the blade deeper and yank the weapon from Cyprus, leaving him bleeding out without his son because Mitt would be on my side.
Cyprus stared right back at me, and his lips formed a sinister grin. “Go ahead, Son. Open it.”
I turned my full attention back to Mitt and tilted my head. “Well, go on. What are you waiting for? It’s my gift to you.”
I couldn’t read Mitt as he turned away from me and peered down at his hands as he slowly opened the red wrapping paper. I had prepared each fold with care, and I even included a red bow on top to match. The crinkle of the paper made the excitement of the moment joyful but mixed with nervousness.
What if Mitt hated my gift?
I’d be the worst wife to walk planet earth. My shot to turn this entire situation around would go right out the window. Far worse, this arrangement I had walked right into would go on, and I’d have to move to Plan B.
Mitt glanced from the brown box and up at me. He repeated the motion one last time without a single reaction and opened the box while I held my breath, but my husband’s response never came, fully restricting my lungs. He only blankly stared down at his wedding present, leaving me grasping at straws and optimism, hoping my words would get through to him.
“It’s a compass, so you can always find your way back to me,” I explained tenderly.
Cyprus yawned.
Egotistical bastard.
Seconds ticked by until they turned into a minute. My wild heartbeat sounded in my ears and blood rushed to my head. The palms of my hands were sweaty as I wiped them on my dress and the anxiety engulfed my excitement. Until Mitt looked at me.
“A compass?” Mitt questioned with narrowed eyes. “Do I look like an outdoorsman to you?”
Cyprus snickered.
Embarrassment flooded my cheeks, and I fumbled to speak. “No... But the compass is a symbol of us finding our way to—”
Immediately, Mitt interrupted. “Return it.”
Love.
The affectionate word repeated in my head and slowly disappeared into nothing. All the hope I had vanished because my plan had failed. This was the real Mitt in front of me. Calculated, grumpy, and frigid. He was as manipulative as his father.
Mitt closed the box and shoved the gift back toward me. I only peered at the box as tears blurred my vision, but I blinked them away. They didn’t deserve to see me cry because there was no one to cry over. The person I thought Mitt was, he was only a lie. A man made up to convince me of a happily ever after that would never come, and he damn well knew it.
The silence was deafening until plates of starter food sat in front of us. A crisp salad with healthy toppings and the aroma of the rich dressing filled my nose. I did the only thing there was to do, and I ate my food. As delicious as it was, I fumed on the inside, and I was ready to explode.
I broke the silence. “I think I’m ready to call it a day and head home.”
“You will do no such thing because your home is with me now,” Mitt ordered in a sharp tone.
“Excuse me?” I asked, bewildered by his demand. “You don’t own me, Mitt.”
Mitt replied with fire in his eyes, “I own every single part of you, angel.”
The main course came as the flames whipped between us, and neither one of us turned away. This was a showdown that wasn’t bound to end well, but I wasn’t going down without a fight. I was sick to death of being told what to do, and this was only day one of my marriage in hell.
“He’s right, young lady...” Cyprus mumbled as he chomped on his steak, and his ill manners made me queasy. “You’re in this for the long haul, and a married couple should live under the same roof.”
“I’m not doing it.”
“Do you need to be reminded of the consequences if you don’t listen, Wife?”
Damn him. To hell with both of them.
But I had to play my cards right.
“Fine. I’ll do it. Under one condition.”
“Name it, Wife.” Mitt met my eyes in a challenge.
“I want Albert full time.”
Mitt smirked. “You got it.”
No matter how much I hated the thought of moving in with a man who despised me, this could benefit me. I’d be close enough to Mitt to make my next move and be one step closer to him, begging to sign the divorce papers. I’d be close enough to crawl under Mr. Mitt Morgan’s skin.
“And I want an extra key,” I added.
“Absolutely not,” Mitt grumbled, as his eyes never wavered from mine.
I shrugged. “Then the deal is off.”
“You only laid out one condition, Wife, not two. Now you’re getting greedy,” Mitt huffed with annoyance and fixed his tie.
“Since you’ve settled the living situation, I’ll see myself out,” Cyprus said with irritation and rose from his seat.
“It’s not settled. Far from it,” I snapped with attitude and crossed my arms. “I want an extra key.”
“I don’t have time for this childish behavior.” Cyprus glared at Mitt. “Fix this. Deal with your disobedient wife or else.”
Mitt ignored his father’s threat. The warning made me wonder what Cyprus would do if he didn’t resolve the situation of us butting heads. But his father didn’t stop his eyes from blazing with heat that made my stomach flutter and my pussy purr.
Mitt held an untouchable flame that wouldn’t burn out no matter how hard he tried, and I wanted nothing more than to hate his guts for everything he had done to me. All the deceit, leaving me pining over him and giving a damn. To me, Mitt was far more dangerous than his father could ever be.