Chapter 43 TJ
TJ
“Do you know him?” I ask as I drop my iPad over West’s legs while he’s sitting on the living room couch, reading a book.
He shoots me an annoyed look. “First, ouch,” he says, glancing at my iPad, which displays a CB London article about Cornelia that claims she’s dating Benedict Glounger, the Netflix actor. “And second, should I?”
“Well, she met him at your nightclub.”
He raises an eyebrow. “And how do you know that?”
I give him a look that clearly says, Where else would she have met him?
While we all get invited to red carpets and other events with celebrities, Cornelia avoids them like the plague.
Mostly because there’s always a good chance her mother will be there, or one of her mother’s past lovers.
Instead, she sticks to society events, which her mother doesn’t care for as much.
The only place she goes where there are constantly celebrities is West’s nightclub.
“Fine,” he concedes, inspecting the article and the pictures. “So this is the lad Cornelia went home with after the masquerade party?”
What? This is news to me. The one fucking time I leave a party early, and this happens.
“So, you do know him?”
“I don’t know him,” West responds.
“But he was at your party,” I argue, growing frustrated as I tap my foot.
He looks up at me, stretching lazily on the couch. “Contrary to what seems to be popular belief, I don’t know everyone who was there,” he says, looking at me, amused. This just annoys me more. Can’t he see that I woke up to the worst possible news and I’m not in the mood for this back-and-forth?
“But while I don’t know him personally, I do know his manager,” he adds, flashing me a smile I instantly recognise—the same one he uses when talking about someone he’s slept with.
“Perfect, I want to meet him, so you can arrange it.”
“Do you also want a private tour of Santa’s workshop?” West says sarcastically. I roll my eyes. “And aren’t you a little too occupied with whatever’s going on between you and Weberly?”
“There is nothing going on between Weberly and me,” I reply firmly.
“If you say so.” His tone makes it clear he doesn’t believe me. “But she’s the only girl besides Cornelia who has stayed over more than once.”
“I do say so. Nothing has happened, and nothing will happen.”
“Fine.”
“So, about that meeting?” I ask, steering the conversation back to my main focus.
West lets out a big breath. “This is why I don’t do relationships or feelings.” He pulls a face when he says feelings, like saying the word might make him sick. He really doesn’t do either. Just a few days ago, he broke up—or more like got rid of—Laura, saying she was getting too clingy.
I believe that one day that’s going to change when he meets the one.
I’ve told him that before, but he looked at me like I’d wished a curse on him.
Cornelia has this theory that he dates older women because he’s afraid of intimacy and responsibilities, and with them, the relationship will never amount to more than a few one-night stands.
He does have responsibilities with his art gallery and nightclub, but those are self-imposed, and he loves them.
It’s a solid theory. Other times, I just think his real love is art and having fun—a less complicated love than mine.
But I wouldn’t change mine for anything.
“So, the meeting?” I press him again.
He stifles a laugh. “You’re like a dog with a bone.”
I don’t deny it.
He sits upright on the couch. “Let’s be honest, you don’t want to meet him; what you really want is to scare him away.” He’s absolutely right.
I shrug. “Possible. But you can’t tell me you’re not at least a little curious about him.”
West thinks about it for a few seconds before sighing.
“Fine. I’ll see what I can do. But if you want to meet him, it’s going to be with everyone—not the two of us showing up at his place and threatening him to stay away from her.
” I let out a disappointed groan. There goes my first choice. “We’re not some kind of gang lords.”
“We literally did exactly that with Hugh Douglas. We also did it to Henry Whitmore to keep him away from Annabelle. And we broke Co…,” I remember him.
“Yes, but they were an arsehole,” West interjects flatly. I could have gone on for a while if he hadn’t. “And Cornelia didn’t appreciate what we did to Hugh. How do you think she’d feel if we did it to someone who isn’t one?”
She didn’t because the arse used to act like he was gay to get close to the girls—especially her. He wasn’t. Cornelia and Annabelle were furious until we got concrete proof and showed it to them.
“He could be.” Though I don’t think she would date someone who is one.
“If he’s one to my standards, then I’ll be the first one to suggest it.”