1. Ford
FORDCHAPTER 1
A gainst all odds, See Yourself’s fundraising event at the Four Seasons was turning out to be a huge success.
The Grand Ballroom was packed, the mood sophisticated without being stuffy.
Emzee was going to raise a ton for her charity and I couldn’t be happier for her.
Despite the snafus we had encountered during the planning process, the last-minute catering and sound system issues that cropped up earlier today, and the fact that my ex Claudia had barely managed to do her job, the event had gone off without a hitch thus far.
Yet somehow, nothing was turning out the way I thought it would.
Not with the event, of course—surveying the tables, all I saw were happy faces and raised flutes of champagne, which meant people were going to be writing some pretty big checks before they left—but there was definitely something going on with Emzee.
I’d barely seen my wife since we arrived.
In fact, it almost felt like she was avoiding me.
This should have been our triumphant debut, but whenever I managed to catch a glimpse of her mingling with the guests, I could tell that her smile was forced.
Was it just her anxiety?
I knew crowds made her uncomfortable, but at the same time, shouldn’t some of the stress that had been dogging her leading up to this night be gone now?
Her big event was finally happening, and happening well.
If there was a time to celebrate her accomplishments, this was it.
But every time I started toward her, she’d disappear back into the fray.
“Ah, young Ford Malone, there you are!”
I turned to find Nathan Watson—a real estate developer and old friend of my father—standing behind me with a plate of canapés.
He pulled me into a half hug with his free arm.
“Good to see you, Mr. Watson,” I coughed out as he slapped me heartily on the back.
“Pleasure’s all mine,” he said, brandishing his plate.
“Quail egg on toast?”
I waved it away.
“Oh, no thank you. Afraid I overindulged on smoked oysters already.”
“Rookie move! You’ve got to save room to try them all,” he said with a laugh.
“Figured with the hefty donation I’m making, I might as well eat my weight in puff pastries.”
“My wife will be pleased on both counts,” I told him, straightening my rumpled tux.
“Speaking of which, I was just about to go find her.”
“I saw her over by the orchestra a moment ago,” he said.
Looking across the room, I thought I could see the top of her head.
She was so short, it was hard to tell, though.
“Thanks for the tip, sir. Enjoy your evening.”
With that, I glided away.
It’s not that I wasn’t a well-trained master in the art of idle chitchat with bougie types, but Emzee’s vanishing act was giving me my own case of anxiety.
As I ducked around trays of champagne and onion tarts and pricy cheeses and paté, I suddenly realized that she was possibly still jealous about Claudia’s involvement in the fundraiser, and my ex’s recent failed attempts to woo me back.
Could it be? Even after what happened with my parents in the library earlier, when I’d walked in on them trying to blackmail her and break up our marriage?
I’d rushed into the room to defend Em, and then the two of us had fucked in a frenzy in the guest room afterward, which I had to admit was actually probably what people referred to as making love.
Because, yeah. We’d both said the words.
Fully recommitted to each other with our bodies and our pledge to stay together.
For the first time, it had seemed like our marital vow to become one was finally real.
Even before that, I’d been convinced that our relationship was on the mend after I flew to New York to get Emzee back from a conference she’d jetted off to.
It had seemed like a turning point for us.
I’d done my best ever since to sweep her off her feet, to show her that even if our relationship had started out as a legal arrangement, we could make it a real marriage.
Did she still not get it?
It was the two of us against the world—and it always would be.
As for Claudia, she would always fall into the “world” category.
Hovering at the edge of the platform where the five-piece orchestra played classy versions of Top 40 pop hits, I scanned the room once again.
Where the hell was she?
I went over to the bar and tried texting her one more time, but either she wasn’t looking at her phone (likely) or she was purposely ignoring my texts.
Fuck.
All I wanted was to steal her away to a corner, pour her a glass of champagne, and toast to a successful evening.
And at the end of the night I’d take her home, strip her out of that sexy dress, and reward her for all of her hard work.
Reward her over and over and over again.
I couldn’t get enough of her.
How responsive she was to my touch.
How she knew exactly what I wanted and was eager to give it to me.
That’s how I wanted this evening to wrap up.
But for now, I couldn’t even manage to get near her.
My ex, on the other hand—I’d spent most of the night trying to avoid her.
Every time I turned around, she was making eyes at me.
With her huge blue ballgown and that blown-out blonde mane, she was impossible to miss.
“ Ford ,” a voice purred from behind me.
Speak of the devil.
“Claudia,” I said, turning around with a whiskey in hand.
“Enjoying yourself?”
“Immensely.” She put her talon-like nails on my shoulders, using them to keep me in place while she forced a lingering double cheek kiss.
I did all I could to not push her away.
She was being ridiculous, per usual, but I wasn’t about to cause a scene.
“You’re welcome, by the way,” Claudia said, gesturing around the room like a magician showing off a rabbit fresh out of a hat.
She was flushed with pride, and even though I was annoyed at her, I couldn’t blame her for feeling like she’d done a good job.
She’d taken us to tour all the best venues in town, had used her relationships to get us a great deal, and even if she’d been less than helpful today, she’d still managed to put together a great event in service of Emzee’s charity.
I was grateful for that.
“Thank you,” I told her, easing her hand off my shoulder.
“Everything turned out perfectly.”
“I know,” she said with a satisfied grin.
“Where’s wifey, by the way?”
The flirtatious gleam in her eyes didn’t fade, which immediately made me suspicious that she was responsible for Emzee’s distance somehow.
“It’s funny. Now that you mention it, something has been up with her tonight. You know anything about that?” I doubted I’d get a straight answer out of Claudia, but it was worth a try.
“Maybe it’s her period. How would I know?”
I gave her a look, and she gave me an irritated raise of her brows.
Clearly this conversation wasn’t going the way she was expecting.
“I saw you walk out of the guest bathroom right before her back at my parents’ house, and she’s been acting off ever since,” I pointed out.
“What happened?”
She flashed me an inelegant eye roll.
“Is it against the law for two women to use the same bathroom? Seriously, stop trying to pin this on me. I have nothing to do with your marital woes.”
My drink was empty, my adrenaline was pumping, and my intuition was telling me that my ex was full of shit.
“You said something to her.”
“What on Earth, Ford? You’re the one who left her behind to go out for drinks with me, remember? Take some responsibility. And by the way, I seem to recall that when you and I were together, we simply communicated our problems and then worked through them. Like adults.”
Smiling sourly, I said, “Look how good that worked out for us. There are some things you just can’t fix, Claudia.”
Such as the fact that she was a selfish, petty, self-centered social climber.
That she had wanted to be with me not because of me, but because of how good we looked together.
How well-matched our family wealth was.
How compatible our elite social circles were.
It had taken me a long time to realize that I didn’t want what Claudia had to offer at all.
The kind of person I wanted dedicated her time and effort to helping other people.
She was whip smart and sexy and sweet and she had always liked me for me.
Or at least, the person I tried to be.
Emzee made me want to be a better person.
“Whatever,” Claudia said.
“All I’m saying is, maybe you weren’t ready for marriage. Maybe she wasn’t.”
I didn’t like the look in her eyes.
It was one I’d seen before.
Whenever she had a secret or some good gossip and was just waiting for it to explode so she could watch the ugly aftermath.
Of course, she was usually the one who did something to make it explode.
“You are the last person,” I told her, leaning in close, “that I need relationship advice from. Last time I checked, you were still single.”
Her eyes widened, and I knew I’d hit a nerve.
With a huff, she spun on her stiletto and flounced away.
Good riddance.
I got a fresh drink and circled the room again, to no avail.
As much as I hated to admit it, what Claudia had said—about me and Emzee not being ready for marriage—did make sense.
How could it not? We’d gotten married basically on a whim.
My whim. I’d coerced her into marrying me temporarily, just to piss my parents off and keep them off my back about the whole getting-back-together-with-Claudia nonsense.
Not that Claudia (or anyone else) knew that.
And yeah, Emzee had been resistant from the beginning.
I’d blamed her hesitation on a dozen things, but I’d never considered that she wasn’t actually ready to be married.
Especially since I was the groom.
It was no secret that she’d been in love with me since high school.
Then again, it was obvious she had a lot of trust issues when it came to relationships.
She’d never been in a long-term one before.
In fact, our seven-year friendship was probably the longest non-family relationship that Emzee had ever had.
Of course I’d done nothing but take advantage of it, since day one.
My gut twisted.
Maybe I’d moved too fast with all that Love Talk earlier today.
Maybe it was too much, too soon.
Maybe it was too much to ask of a girl with all her trust issues, assuming she’d simply drop them just because I defended her to my parents.
I probably just needed to give her some time to process.
Between my declaration of love and the fight with my parents and the fundraiser, she had to be feeling completely overwhelmed.
Suddenly, I realized that it was the first time I’d come to her defense because I wanted to, and not out of guilt over what had happened to her in high school.
Not that she could ever know what really happened back then.
Now that would ruin everything.