Chapter 2
Ava and Elizabeth leave the penthouse together the next morning at eight on the dot, and Joseph leaves shortly after to visit some old friends. So once Cathy has finished clearing up the breakfast things, I send her on her way, leaving me alone to start making plans. My first job is to call Larry Hanna, a counsellor who plays at The Manor from time to time, although I haven’t seen him for some time. Mind you, I haven’t seen much since I met Ava.
“Ward,” he says, his voice deep and suggestive of his age and background. Aristocracy. “How the devil are you?”
“Sober,” I grunt, and he laughs. “I need some help.”
“With?”
“A wedding venue license.”
There’s a small pause. “For The Manor?”
“Yes, for The Manor. Don’t worry, The Manor is still The Manor.” For now. “I’m getting married, and I’d like to have the ceremony and reception there.”
“At your sex club?”
My shoulders drop.
“And you’re getting married? To whom?” A gasp. “Oh, the young little interior designer? I’ve heard about her.”
“I bet,” I mutter. “Her name is Ava.”
“Ava. Nice. And what does the whip-wielding, hard-hearted bitch make of this?”
I sink on the stool, reminded that Sarah is a big something I need to deal with. “Larry, can we get back to the matter at hand, please?” I need to remember this man has something I need.
“I can put you in touch with the right department. They’ll have you complete some forms, make an application fee, and then they’ll send an inspector to look at the space and ensure it meets regulations. They can only approve one area for ceremonies, not the entire venue. Then they’ll take it to the councilors meeting, usually held on the last Friday of the month, and a decision will be made.”
“That sounds quite long-winded.”
“From start to finish, usually three to six months.”
I baulk. “Months? Larry, I need it to happen much quicker than that.”
“How quick?”
“Within the next week.”
He laughs, and the rich, baritone sound irritates the shit out of me.
“I’ll wave your membership fees for a year,” I say flatly, and his laughter stops in a second.
“That’s bribery.”
“I don’t believe any money is passing hands. I’ll make it two years if you find me a registrar too. Call me.” I hang up and get to ordering Ava’s wedding present—the big one and the little one, a car and a watch—and then sort a new bed for our suite at The Manor. And, actually, I email some decorators too. One for The Manor’s extension, and one for my office. In half an hour, both are lined up. I’m winning this morning.
Next.
I smile, looking down at my list of things to do. My smile falls. Fucking hell. “Wedding planner,” I say, pulling my laptop close and hitting up Google. The list is endless, and I figure the ones at the top are likely to be the best and most popular, so I start there. Yes, that might mean they’re also fully booked, but I’ll make this well worth their while. Besides, half the job is done for them—venue, registrar, dress. I even know a baker and a florist. So, really, they’ll be more of a coordinator. A very well-paid coordinator.
The first answers, and I ramp up my charm to top level, getting up from my stool and wandering. “Hi, Tessa, my name’s Jesse Ward.” God damn it, this would be much easier in person. I could flash my smile and biceps. “I’m looking for a wedding planner.”
“I’m afraid I’m fully booked for the next three years.”
I laugh. “Fucking hell.” She must be really good. And exactly what I need. “We’re getting married a week on Saturday.”
Now it’s her laughing.
“It’s twelve days’ work,” I go on, not deterred. “For one hundred grand.” And she shuts up. “There’s no budget,” I add.
“I think I might be able to figure something out.”
I bet you can, Tessa.“Great. My wife to-be will be home this evening. That work?”
“Absolutely.”
“Perfect. I’ll send you our address.” I hang up and go to my list, crossing out everything on it—it’s now Tessa’s list—and leave only two more things. I dial John, my stomach doing a little flip.
“Is she there?” I ask.
“She’s here.”
I nod and breathe out. “I’m on my way.”
I sitoutside The Manor for an eternity, staring up at the building that’s been my life for the best part of twenty years, feeling... I don’t know. Weird? I can’t put my finger on it. Empty? Detached? Abs?—
My phone rings, and I recoil at the dash display. Coral? I laugh sardonically. Seriously?
I reject the call and get out, heading up the steps, opening the door and listening. It’s not busy—standard for this time of day. Swallowing, I walk on, vigilant, watching every door, waiting for her to appear. I find John first, coming out of my office, his wraparounds unusually sitting on his bald, shiny head. “All right?” I ask as I approach.
“She’s not good.”
I look at my office door. “Is she in there?”
“Yes, she’s in there.”
“What have you said?”
“I’ve said you’re marrying Ava.”
“And what did she say?”
“Nothing. She cried.”
“Have you told her I know she used your phone to text Ava?”
“I haven’t said anything.” Except that I’m marrying Ava. He lightly pats my shoulder as he passes. “I’m around if you need me.”
“Thanks,” I say quietly as he wanders away, leaving me to fend for myself, putting his shades back into place.
I face the door.
Take in air.
Reach for the handle.
It’s times like these I miss the drink most. Pushing my way in, I find her at my desk leaning over a file, a tissue in her grasp. She looks up, blinks, and sniffs, pulling a smile from nowhere. The last time I was with her, she was thrashing me with her whip. The last time I saw her, I had succumbed to her for the second time in my life. And each time I have yielded to Sarah, whether it be to her body or her whip, the aftermath has been excruciating. She’s toxic. I’ve always known it, but when it was only me that she poisoned, it didn’t matter. I didn’t matter. I deserved everything, even if I knew deep down Sarah was in love with me. But now Sarah’s venom is affecting Ava. She’s trying to destroy our love. And I can’t have that.
I clear my throat and motion to my chair, making Sarah get up. She puts herself on the other side of my desk as I lower, avoiding her eyes. “How’s your back?” she asks, shocking me.
I lift stunned eyes to hers. “My back looks like I relented to your fucked-up fantasies and let you at me with your whip.”
She shrugs. “Better than getting drunk.”
I grit my teeth. How? How can she still sit there and be so vindictive after what she’s done? Because she’s Sarah. And it’s an act. “How’s your neck?” I retort, observing she’s opted for a high-necked halter-type bustier to cover the scattering of bruises left behind after Ava had her by the throat.
“I’ll live,” she muses, crossing one leg over the other.
“You sent Ava a message from John’s phone telling her to come here so she could see you thrashing me,” I say, wondering how the hell she ever thought she’d get away with it. And I also wonder if she even cares that she hasn’t. Does she think I’d stand for that level of betrayal? Because if she can do that, what else is she capable of?
“What?” she says, laughing. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Ridiculous?” I counter. “No, Sarah. Ridiculous is you thinking I could ever love you.”
She recoils.
“After everything you’ve done, you honestly still think I could love you?” I lean forward. “I’m marrying Ava. And you need to leave.” I get up, and her wide eyes lift with me.
“What?”
“Leave, Sarah. There’s nothing here for you. There never has been, because my heart has never been open to you.” I head for the door.
“Jesse, wait.” I feel her hand on my arm, and I roll my elbow back, getting her off me, my skin burning under her touch. “I didn’t do anything. You’re wrong.”
“And you lie?” I say on an angry whisper. “After everything, all the shit you’ve caused, the damage you’ve done, you don’t even fucking own it?”
“Don’t do this, Jesse, please.”
“This is all you, Sarah.” I wince, knowing that’s a stretch. I gave her the rope to hang herself. I gave her the opportunity to fuck me over. So this is on me too. Fuck. I pull the door open.
“She can’t make you happy!”
I swing around and stalk toward her, raging, and she backs up until she’s virtually lying on my desk. “She already fucking does!” I bellow. “My heart beats for that woman, Sarah. What the fuck don’t you understand about that?” I withdraw, heaving, as Sarah cowers on the desk. “Admit it,” I demand. “Admit what you’ve done, Sarah. Own your fucking truths.”
“Like you have?” she asks quietly. “How much is there for her still to know, Jesse?”
“Are you threatening me?”
“No,” she blurts. “No, I love you. But will Ava if she knows the extent of our darkness?”
“Ava knows everything she needs to know.”
“And when you fucked Freya and Nala in here?”
“She knows.” Not who, that doesn’t matter, but she knows.
Sarah can’t hide her shock. “You told her?”
“She knew because she knows me, Sarah. Like she also knows we”—I wave a finger between us—“fucked once.”
Her face is not a picture I want to remember. Hurt. Anger.
Realization.
“But she doesn’t know about Rosie and Rebecca?” she asks quietly. “Or Jake?”
I shake my head. “And she won’t. You’ve done enough damage, Sarah. Let me have this peace.”
Her face falls, and she looks at the carpet. “Please.”
“No. You can’t be in my life anymore. I don’t want you in my life anymore. I hate you, Sarah. I hate you with a vengeance because you tried to take the one woman I’ve ever loved away from me.” I turn and walk out, shutting the door behind me, nodding at John as I pass. He turns with me, flanking me. He say’s nothing, but he’s there. Always there by my side.
And this time, all the way to my car.
He opens the door for me, and I slip in, starting the engine. I look up at him. “I told her I hate her, John, and I meant it. I want... need her gone.”
He nods, understanding. His loyalty is something I have never doubted, even when he’s called me a motherfucker. Deserved on some occasions. But this man has been by my side unconditionally for years. Longer than anyone else.
“I need you next to me on my wedding day.”
He reaches up to his glasses and removes them, giving me his eyes. “Where else would I be?”
I swallow the lump in my throat, nodding, as John shuts the door.
I pull away calmly.
Where else would I be?
And wipe my cheek with the back of my hand.