Chapter 17
Grace
Ed sticks out his tongue as he concentrates on tugging yellow yarn through the loop he’s made with his crochet hook. He’s attempting to make a mitten, but the baby in question will be going to college at this rate.
“You’re holding the yarn too tight,” I tell him, reaching over to loosen the tension around his finger only to discover it’s not Ed’s grip causing the problem.
“Don’t tell me. Tell her,” Ed says, gesturing to beneath his outstretched legs. In the gap between his couch and a footstool, Marmalade is tangled in a knotted mess of baby-soft wool.
“Bad cat,” I scold with zero effect as the cat swats the yarn connected to Ed’s finger with her paw.
“We should have gone to your place.”
I slump back against the couch. “It’s not my place,” I mutter, returning my attention to the fiery orange griffin wing taking shape on my hook. “The apartment is nothing more than Duke’s holding pen to keep me contained while he plays around with a Russian goddess.”
Ed surrenders his questionable work-in-progress to the cat and twists to face me. “The only playing he’s doing is play-acting, Grace. I know that man. I also know that planning your arrival was his one and only priority until the Devil’s spawn got her claws into him.”
I study the printed crochet pattern in my lap, one I’d created by combining existing patterns of a lion and an eagle. It’s complicated, but the feathers are mostly repetitive and I feign concentration.
“Got her claws into his pants,” I say with a pout.
Ed taps the toes of his boots together. “There’ll be another explanation for the phallus. Just ask him.”
The crochet hook trembles in my hand. “Please stop trying to defend him,” I whisper. “There’s only so many times I can put my faith in someone only to watch their promises go up in flames.”
It had happened with my mom when she ran off with the married guy she was having an affair with. It happened when I waited for my dad to reappear in my life to take care of me. It happened when I forgave Cameron his lapses and trusted him not to cheat on me again.
My throat constricts. “They always choose someone else, Ed.”
“Duke won’t.”
“Duke did,” I point out. “When he stuck his tongue down Katarina’s throat. It’s time to accept that we were never meant to be more than a one-night stand. If it had stayed like that, I’d still have my unspoiled fantasy to dip into now and again.”
Ed rocks the heels of his boots from side to side. “If the fantasy is that good, you shouldn’t give up so easily.”
“You think the last two weeks have been easy?” I scoff. I set down my work with a sigh. I don’t mean to be angry with Ed, but he’s Team Duke all the way and I need a Team Grace right now. “Every time we put a little more faith in fate, it fucks us over. It’s time to call it quits.”
“He won’t make it easy for you if last night’s anything to go by,” Ed warns.
I’d been looking forward to spending my Saturday night taking full advantage of Calder’s VIP pass for his exclusive nightclub, but a certain someone had revoked my VIP status and we were turned away.
To add insult to injury, when Ed and I had climbed into an Uber planning to take our party elsewhere, we’d discovered it was a Moncrief car and the driver was under strict instructions to take us back to Ed’s place.
There’d been a crate of champagne and trays of food waiting, and I couldn’t have dragged my friend back into the city if I’d tried.
I was already planning on crashing at Ed’s anyway, and getting drunk on champagne with Duke’s number one fan was marginally better than going home to stew in my bitterness.
“I just need to try harder until he gets the message that I’m done,” I say, grinding my teeth to the sound of Ed’s toe tapping. “You’re going to wear those boots out if you keep doing that. Do you really need to wear them at home?”
“Where else would I wear them?” he asks in shock. “These babies are too precious for the sidewalk.”
“Precious because of the price tag, or because your beloved boss bought them for you?”
He scowls at the stupidity of my question. “The latter, obviously.”
Despite my best efforts to hate Duke, warmth floods my chest. The brute who broke my heart can be so damn sweet at times.
He’d told Ed to buy the boots with his black Amex and when Ed didn’t, Duke had bought them for him.
He’s a good man. I know that. Unfortunately, so does Katarina and her hold appears to be stronger than mine.
“Is it too early for wine?” I ask.
“It’s wine o’clock somewhere.”
While Ed disappears to the kitchen, I pick up the griffin wings again. My grandma had taught me to crochet and counting rows and stitches helps calm my thoughts, although not enough that I don’t jump at the sound of a cell phone ringing.
I breathe out a sigh of relief when I see Ed’s phone light up on the opposite end of the couch. It was never going to be Duke reaching out to me. We don’t leave a trail of calls or messages that some creepy Bratva hack might stumble upon. It’s as if our relationship never existed.
Ed reappears, wine bottle in hand as he picks up his cell. Aiming a rictus grin in my direction, he connects the call and immediately launches the phone at me. It lands face down in my lap.
“Take the call for me, I’m busy!” he yelps before scurrying back into the kitchen.
There’s only one person who’d get that reaction, and I pick up the cell like it’s a live grenade. Am I allowed to hang up someone else’s call from their boss?
Fuck. I was going to have to face this at some point, and at least it’s not in person. In his office.
“Hello?” I ask as steadily as I can muster.
There’s a long silence. Ha! He wasn’t expecting me to answer. This is more awkward for him than it is for me.
I lift my chin and adopt a professional tone. “Did you want Ed?”
The voice that answers back is deep enough to send the vibration down to my traitorous core. “No, Angel. I want you.”
“If it’s a work request, put it in an email and I’ll deal with it tomorrow when I’m in the office. The DeVere office,” I clarify.
“We need to talk.”
I’m not intimidated by the edge his voice has acquired. “Funny, I could have sworn it was Ed’s phone that rang.”
“Because I knew you’d ignore my calls, and either Ed was going to be with you, or he could get to you,” he says. “I’m not taking no for an answer, Grace. You will be at my office first thing tomorrow or I’ll come find you, by which point I’m going to be mightily pissed off.”
“Is that supposed to frighten me?” I ask, adopting his cold tone.
“You seem to forget that I’ve had plenty of practice with the, ‘we need to talk’ conversations from Cameron, enough to know that promises will be made and promises will be forgotten.
But do you know what isn’t going to be forgotten? Having to watch you and Katarina–”
My stupid voice catches on too much emotion. There’s pressure at the back of my nose. I will not cry. It was a one-night stand. I will get over him. Just as soon as I can convince him to keep away.
“Grace, it killed me too,” he says, softer now. Coaxing. Cajoling. “I’m sorry.”
“I don’t want your apology or more empty promises. I appreciate you don’t like hurting people, Duke and that’s part of the reason you haven’t ended things with Katarina.” My swallow is painful. Heartrending. “It’s also the reason I have to be the one to end us.”
I press my fingers and thumb against my eyes to stem the tears. They fall anyway.
“I’ll stay at DeVere’s long enough to see the Brimstage project to completion.
At least then I’ll have something to show on my CV when I move on.
And I will move on. We both will,” I say with more conviction than the situation deserves.
“If you need updates in the meantime, I’d prefer email.
I’ll only meet you in person if it’s a team meeting. ”
“You seem to have thought of everything.”
I pinch my nose, trying not to sniffle down the phone. I don’t want him to know I’m crying. “I have.”
Duke leaves a pause. “No, Angel. You didn’t factor in me not letting you go.”
Oh, I did, and I’m prepared for the push back. “Listen to our recording, Duke. I suggest you fast forward to around 12 minutes 32 seconds when the man I thought I was getting to know gave me some good advice. I’m taking it.”