Chapter 7
Tyler
The restaurant was perfect for first dates.
I hadn’t been here before, but it came highly recommended from a friend.
As soon as I sat down, I gave myself a silent pat on the back for following the advice.
It was a quiet contemporary place with a modern style that was prevalent in most restaurants, but this paired that with dim yellow lighting that made it feel timeless.
If the wine was anything to go by, the food was going to be good…
and expensive. I wasn’t complaining. A first date with a potential future wife should be worth the price of at least an Armani suit.
“This is my first time being here,” my date said as she darted her gaze around the room, fidgeting in her seat.
“I’ve never been in a place like this before,” she chuckled.
Her nervous laughter was cute. After a long string of dates with jaded models, socialites, and actresses, Lauren’s artifice was almost refreshing.
“A friend of mine recommended it. Let’s hope the food is good,” I said, glancing down at the French menu.
They didn’t even bother putting an English translation; it was that pretentious.
After a quick peruse, I picked my dish and waited for Lauren.
Her small, manicured hand ran down the menu as she silently mouthed the words.
If we hadn’t met at the French embassy, I would have asked if she wanted me to order for her.
I bumped into her in the foyer and sent all the documents in her hands flying.
And even though I was the one in the wrong, she had apologized.
Later, I saw her again at the meeting I was attending with the ambassador.
He wanted to ‘revamp’ the embassy, and a friend of his had recommended our firm.
Lauren just so happened to be the compliance officer, there to make sure every renovation would be above board.
She barely said anything during the meeting, but her sweetness caught my attention.
A couple of weeks later, we met again at a friend’s party. June, a client, was throwing a birthday party, and the only person worth talking to was Lauren Hayes. And that conversation led to this date. The first time we were officially going out.
“Are you really going to run in New York’s next marathon?” I said after the waiter came to take our order.
She nodded. “I told you that? I was yapping at June’s party. Gosh. What was I on?”
“June is known for spiking cocktails.”
“Really?” Her green eyes popped out in shock.
It’s run-of-the-mill New York party shit, but I guess it might be odd for someone who didn’t run in our circles.
I nodded. She shook her head, chuckling.
“Yeah, I’m training for it, but I am not sure if I can make it.
Everyone in our runner’s club has participated at least once, and I am the only one who hasn’t. ”
The red dress she wore hugged her fit body in a way that accentuated her curves and showed off her defined arms. She was pretty.
Not sexy. Not like Saffron’s sinful body.
Hers was the type to fit in an athletic ad, while Saffron would easily be in a lingerie ad like she had so many times.
And why was I thinking of my shitty wife again?
“Is that what you do in your spare time? Running around Central Park?”
Lauren giggled. “When you put it like that, I sound like a madwoman. But apart from terrorizing people having their picnics, I also do some pro bono work for a climate action charity.” Intelligent and caring.
She was exactly what I was looking for in a wife, with none of the baggage my other wife didn’t have.
Not only did I learn Lauren was a lawyer, but she was also a dedicated environmentalist. I wasn’t passionate about causes, but having a wife who would dedicate herself to the betterment of humanity was a plus in my book.
However, as the dinner went on and we talked more about our interests, the spark I expected to get did not come.
The rush of blood to my nether regions was not happening.
Instead, I was thinking about how amazing Saffron looked in the little pinstriped suit she had on as I ate my Filet de B?uf Rossini.
Talk about figure-hugging. It was a modest pantsuit, very professional, but on her, she looked like a pinup model.
She had the ability to make even a nun’s habit sexy.
I had to clench my hands so I would not rip the suit off her and spread her legs on the small round table and fuck her senseless.
Ever since I met Saffron again, getting her out of my mind has been difficult.
It had been a couple of months since that fateful meeting, and every time I encountered something remotely having to do with her, she popped into my mind.
I cut into the beef with too much aggression than intended, freaking out Lauren, who looked up from her plate.
“Sorry.” What was I doing, thinking of her instead of the wonderful woman in front of me?
Worse, I was comparing her to Lauren and finding Lauren wanting, which was insane.
Lauren was; smart. Check. Hot. Check. Fun and a good conversationalist. Check and check.
Better than the spoiled woman I was shackled to.
I should focus on Lauren and forget about Saffron.
After dinner was done, we strolled leisurely around the city, chatting casually, my hands in my coat and hers in hers.
Our platonic dinner did not warrant touching, at least not yet.
The streets were a little busy, but few people were on the sidewalk, which made walking in the cool spring evening breeze fun.
She was fun to talk to, but her love for running could be a little over the top.
I knew no one who was that into athletics beyond keeping in shape.
“I love the way my body feels. How my heart thumps. The wind blowing in my face as I fly past people,” Lauren said with a wistful smile on her face. I had made the mistake of bringing up her hobby again after a long bout of silence, and she had spent the last twenty minutes talking about it.
“The music at least eats up the miles, at least for me. Or do you listen to podcasts?” I crossed my fingers in my jacket, hoping she wouldn’t mention some political podcast I hated. Or worse, a celebrity gossip podcast. Her response was the worst outcome.
“I don’t listen to anything when I am running.”
Hardcore. I guess I would have to tolerate living with a running fiend.
Easy compromise. I’ve dated worse women.
We turned around and made our way back to my car.
I drove her to her apartment, bid her goodnight, and went back to my place as though we were in a Hallmark romance movie.
No raunchy sex to be had tonight, not that I was expecting it.
It was refreshing to date someone I wasn’t horny for.
Or someone who was trying to use her body to get me into her bed.
Or someone I couldn’t think of without imagining them naked.
Like Saffron. The sole persistent image of her in my mind was of her spread-eagled on my kitchen counter as I ate her out that night.
And like every time I conjured up that image, my cock responded.
Goddammit. I had to do something about Saffron.
I could not have a hard-on on the way back to an empty apartment, coming from a dinner date with another woman.
It was a good thing that I would not be working with her. After the humiliation ritual Sebastian made me go through, he opted to work with Marble Row onwards. He was still mad at me for not telling him about Saffron and our bonkers marriage, but he has since come around to my way of thinking.
The further I stayed away from Saffron, the better.
I made a mental note to tell my assistant not to put me in any meetings involving Marble Row.
Seb was the one working with them fully, but there were other items, like production schedules, they kept me abreast about, and even those meetings were too much.
As I entered my apartment, my phone rang.
“Seb.”
“You’re going to hate me for this, but I promise you, it was not my intention.”
I threw the keys into the key bowl and shoved myself out of my jacket while trying to talk on the phone. “What now?”
“You’re going to have to take over the hotel project.”
“Uh… I told you I don’t want to work with Marble Row. Or is this another punishment for not telling you about her?” I couldn’t say her name out loud.
I heard my brother wince on the other end. “You’re going to really hate me, fuck.”
“Seb, what’s going on?”
The phone was silent for a moment, and I thought I had lost him. He took a deep sigh. “You’re not the only one with woman trouble.”
“Woman trouble?” He sounded like a dude on some alpha male podcast.
“Remember Kendra?”
I groaned. “Please don’t tell me you’re back with her again. I thought you were over her. How many times do I have to warn you? She’s toxic!”
“I know! I know! We’re not together, gosh.”
“Okay, so?”
“So she, uh…” He rattled the next statement so fast I almost missed it. “She had a child with me, and now she wants me to take care of her.”
“Take care of Kendra? You have a child?”
“Of the child. She left the kid at my door with a note.”
What the fuck. “You have a child!”
“Yes! Or no! I don’t know! How many times do I have to repeat myself? Kendra is gone. She has left a kid on my doorstep she claims is mine and has gone back to France… I think. I have no idea where she is, and I need to deal with this mess. Work is going to have to wait while I take care of this.”
“Oh yeah, sure, man.”
Damn. A kid. I would help my brother no matter what he got himself into, even if it meant working with my blackmailer. Fucking Saffron. No matter how hard I try to get away from her, the universe pulls us together.