Chapter 28 #2
“Not everything … not even close. But I think he suspects—he’s been nearby when I’ve had Josh on the phone, a few times. I’m … I can’t tell him, because then he’ll want to confront Josh, and I just …” She sucked in a shuddering breath. “I don’t want to burden anyone else. And it won’t help anyway.”
She grabbed up a couple of the garment bags and pasted a ghastly impersonation of a smile on her face. “Now, let me play Front Row Barbie with you!”
I plucked the bags from her hand and steered her towards the lounge, pressing her until she sat. “Do you drink vodka?”
Liv’s face crinkled in confusion. “Usually not at ten in the morning on a weekday.”
I waved a dismissive hand. “Time, schmime! It’s happy hour somewhere in the world right now, I don’t think one little shot will hurt.”
“But I’m working …” she protested weakly, but I was already dragging my bottle from the freezer and tipping a small portion into two tumblers. Henry, who didn’t drink at all, had no shot glasses, which didn’t usually bother me, because my pour was more generous than most shot glasses allowed for.
Not today, though. We weren’t getting drunk. We were just taking the edge off for Liv, who was suffering an abusive partner in silence.
I handed her the vodka, collapsing onto the lounge and tossing mine back.
“I had a girlfriend, not long before I met Henry … she was very good at making me feel like I was nothing without her. She’d love-bomb me until I was sure I was the most important person in the world, and then she’d spend days outlining in detail every one of my flaws, or just ignore me completely.
I never knew where I stood, or what she really thought of me … or what I really thought of myself.”
I reached for the bottle, suddenly very much in need of a second drink. “It took me a whole year of that to realise that her words had nothing to do with my worth. But if I tried to break free of her, she’d get nasty.”
Liv sipped at her vodka, her mascara-smeared eyes wide. “But you’re not with her now, so you did get away.”
I shrugged, knocking back my second glass before setting it firmly on the coffee table. The temptation to keep going was strong, sometimes, but I was stronger.
“I did. But not everyone is as lucky as me.” I didn’t mention that Rumi very much hadn’t let me go—I didn’t want to frighten her.
I took a deep breath, choosing my words carefully.
“I think, if you could find a way, Lucian would be there by your side, every step of the way.” And he wouldn’t let some nenorocitule like this Josh guy keep hurting her.
Liv huffed out a sad sigh. “I know, but that’s exactly the problem.
I really like Lucian. I know he can be grouchy at times …
” I snorted, and she let out a watery chuckle.
“But he’s got a heart of gold, underneath the stern facade.
” She giggled, tucking a strand of brown hair behind her ear.
“Not to mention, he’s very handsome—like … a young Alexander Skarsg?rd.”
I made an overly dramatic gagging face. “So not my type! Not that Mr Skarsg?rd isn’t objectively hot, but my taste definitely leans more towards—”
“Tall, dark curls and slutty little glasses?” Liv asked slyly. I raised my eyebrows as she hid her smirk behind her mostly-empty glass.
“They are quite slutty, aren’t they?” I replied just as Liv took her final sip of vodka. She choked, spitting it back into the cup. I watched, amused as she got herself under control and placed the glass down very deliberately on the coffee table.
“You know,” she began, hopping up and heading around the kitchen bench to wash her hands, “I’ve been Henry’s PA for three years now, and I’ve never seen him with a woman—not even for a first date.”
A slither of cold filled my stomach. Was that because he was still heartbroken over Cadence? He’d asked her to marry him, after all.
He asked you to marry him, too … a little voice insisted. But that had been purely contractual. Yes, it might have been selfless of him—I didn’t believe that he was gaining anything of benefit from our deal … but it wasn’t real. He hadn’t offered to marry me for real.
He’d wanted to marry Cadence for real.
“Why does your mouth suddenly look like a cat’s anus?” Liv asked. I wiped the pained expression from my face while she bustled back around the kitchen island, grabbing the first garment bag and unzipping.
I eyed the deep blue jumpsuit she had revealed from the bag. The fabric flowed like water, and I reached out to touch. It was so soft, but it felt expensive.
“This is a Bella Draper piece. She’s an upcoming Aussie designer, and she’s got a similar sort of sustainable and ethical ethos to River, which is important—you don’t want people remarking about how you’re wearing a designer who abuses child labour in Bangladesh while at the launch for a brand that is vehemently opposed to sweat shops. ”
I nodded and tugged off my T-shirt and yoga pants.
Liv didn’t even bother to avert her eyes as I slid off my bra—the jumpsuit was very low cut at the front, and I’d probably need pasties to be able to keep myself in it.
I plucked the jumpsuit from the hanger and stepped into it, shimmying the straps into place and tucking my boobs into the plunging neckline.
I did a full turn, finding Liv eyeing me with a smirk when our eyes met again. She lifted her phone and snapped a couple of photos.
“Check you out!” she crowed, turning the phone so I could see myself in the outfit. “This one is gorgeous! Henry will literally die when he sees you in it!”
My face heated, and I quickly turned away. It did look beautiful, and now all I could think about was watching him try not to stare at my cleavage in it … and constantly sneaking peeks anyway, like he was desperately trying to be a gentleman when it came to me and failing.
“Well … I can’t just wear the first one I try. How did you even get these designers to supply clothes, anyway?”
Liv chuckled. “The second I mentioned that my billionaire boss’s wife needs to be dressed for a fashion event, they practically tripped over themselves to send you freebies.
But stop changing the subject. You and Henry are totally fucking, aren’t you?
I can tell by the expression on your face when I mentioned him seeing you in it. ”
I froze midway through tugging the jumpsuit down. “Um … no, we are not!”
Liv studied my face. I swallowed hard. “He’s just very good at pretending,” I explained. “I promise you, there is nothing more than friendly cohabitation going on behind closed doors.”
Liv gestured for me to remove the jumpsuit, which I did, handing it wordlessly back to her.
“He’s not, you know … good at pretending, I mean.
Certainly not the scorching level of chemistry we all saw when he practically steamrolled half of the bullpen to get to you, and then kissed you like a man who was starving to feast on Irina Baxter. ”
Irina Baxter. O Doamne, I loved how that sounded!
“I’m so royally screwed, Liv,” I moaned, collapsing onto the lounge in nothing but my pink underwear.
“This isn’t supposed to turn romantic! We decided that it was for the best that we didn’t get too close because we have to keep this up for at least two years, until I can get my permanent residency. ”
Liv’s face crinkled. “Are you kidding me? Ri … that is insane!”
I ran a hand through my hair. “I don’t think so,” I mumbled.
“I mean, if we did go down that path, and things didn’t work out, we’d still have to live together, resentful and heartbroken …
and we’d have to pretend. That would be so much worse than …
than this desperate longing I feel for him, all the fucking time. ”
The lounge moved beside me, and a worried, “Prrowr?” erupted. I peeked over, finding Abernathy pawing at me.
“And I’ve fallen in love with his cat!” I wailed, tugging the fuzzball to my chest. “Abernathy’s going to pine for me if I abandon him after two years.”
Liv blew out a long breath. “Honestly, the pair of you are complete idiots. You think the cat will pine for you? Henry is pining for you, every day! I’ve caught him multiple times in his office using Google translate on your Tickle posts.
He watches all the tame ones—the toenail painting ones—on repeat, like he can’t look away. ”
“Yes, but that doesn’t mean he’s pining, it just means that he’s curious about what I’m saying …
” I covered my burning face. “Oh, God. I talk about him all the time in those posts! I’m constantly gushing about my ‘hubby’, because the subscribers don’t care what I’m saying as long as I’m purring it in an exotic language. I never thought he might translate it!”
“So, you’re telling me he may very well know you have feelings for him, based on the things you’ve been saying in your posts?”
I nodded through my fingers.
“I’m calling it—you’re both a pair of infatuated idiots!” She threw her hands up in the air. “I honestly have no words for this stupidity.”
Okay, today wasn’t a day that I was stronger than the vodka. I reached over and poured another couple of fingers into the tumbler. “But that’s exactly the problem, Liv! Infatuation doesn’t last.”
Liv rolled her eyes. “But what if your infatuation becomes more?”
“I don’t know if I’m prepared to risk my permanent residency on that.” I downed the rest of my vodka. “I have so much to lose, Liv. If I don’t get this visa, if I can’t stay here …” Then what you’re dealing with from Josh the Prick will look like child’s play when I’m forced back to Romania.
She threw her hands up in a wild shrug. “Well, I can’t talk sense into you. And I certainly can’t discuss this with my boss. I guess you’ve both got to do what you think is right … even if I think you’re utterly crazy for not jumping at a chance at love.”
No. I couldn’t think about that word and Henry. It made my insides somersault. “I don’t—”
A commotion on the stairs had me jumping up, grabbing for my T-shirt to cover my bare chest. Parker came careening into the room. He noticed my state of undress and gasped, covering his eyes.
“Uh … Lucian is out on the jetty, there’s a crazy man at the gate demanding to see you, Irina.”
My chest constricted, and I turned my back, fumbling my way into my bra and T-shirt, tugging on my yoga pants. “He’s not wearing an Eastern Sydney Cockerels cap, is he?”