Chapter 2 #2
Jord clears his throat. Even hungover, the man’s brain can work a conspiracy faster than I can think of what to eat. “Speaking of mysteries, anyone heard from Punk lately?”
The subject change isn't a change at all, since her and Parker are usually the two drunkest at every occasion.
“No.” I test the water temperature. “Maybe you should reach out.”
Lucinda nods, dodging another person. “Absolutely. I'll circle back later. Better yet, dinner party, so we can interrogate this friend properly?”
I end the call before it mutates into a full-scale investigation. Besides, Jord really does need to check on Punk.
After a quick shower, I change into linen pants and a knitted jumper. My bedroom is comfortable, sure, but it lacks natural light.
I peak behind a heavy curtain that covers half of the wall, and smile when it opens onto a small patio that overlooks the side yard. Yes. This, I could get used to.
Swiping up my laptop and phone, I unlock the door and inhale the perfume of Mother Nature. Well, the best I could get from it in the suburbs.
I take a seat, open my laptop, and breathe.
Let the show begin…
***
I don’t know how long I’ve been out here for, but a knock rattles the main door and I move the net curtains out of the way to see who it is.
Asher.
My head tilts. “Are you lost?”
He laughs, leaning against the door frame. “Maybe. Haven't figured that one out yet.”
“Mm-hmm,” I murmur, shutting my laptop and crossing one leg over the other. “Well, how can I help you?”
He pauses at the foot of the bed. “I don't know. Color me intrigued. I've known Parker for a long time. Never figured he'd settle down, much less marry.”
I stand and make my way to the closet, leaving the patio door open. “If you want to know something, ask.”
Heat travels my movements, and I try my best to ignore the way it feels running down my spine.
I hit the light switch.
He continues. “I'm aware this isn't a conventional marriage. Anyone with Parker would have to be okay with… less.”
“And maybe that works for me,” I call over my shoulder, turning back to find him blocking the entrance. He's tall, built wide and lean, but unlike most men with his kind of physique, he doesn't use his size to dominate.
“Anyway,” I say, my eyes narrowing, “I didn't know he had friends.”
Asher's smile sharpens into a smirk. “He doesn't. He lured me into his van with candy and told me to be a good boy and not scream.”
Silence. He’s funny… only it’s not at all that funny. Jesus.
I duck beneath his arm before my body does something ridiculous, like press itself against him. “Cute. Very cute.” He was. Annoyingly so.
Lowering to the mattress, I slip on a pair of flats.
He gestures to my feet. “Where are you going?”
“Meeting friends for lunch.” My foot slides back to the ground. “How long are you staying?”
He studies me, eyes tracing my frame as if he already knows every curve. “A year.”
I choke on my spit. “What?”
His smile widens. Jesus Christ, someone put this man on a book cover.
He struts through my bedroom with the confidence of someone who has been in it hundreds of times before. When he drops onto my bed, the comforter billows around his body.
He props himself up on one arm, and my eyes fix on the veins that run thick down his forearm. Shit. I drag my gaze away before he notices me staring.
“I'm here for a year. Turns out, my friend wants to cash in on a favor I owe him from when I promised not to blow the whistle on his candy heist.”
His jokes fly right over my head. Is this guy serious? I can't tell. Never in my life have I come across someone so…
So…
Words fail me.
“Why would you need to stay here.” I blink. “In this house.” Please no. “For an entire year?”
He tilts his head, drawing my attention to the sharp angles of his jaw.
“You really have no idea who I am, do you?” He says, as if I’d been pretending.
“Okay.” I swipe my handbag from the dresser, because I don’t have time for whatever he’s doing. “I've got to go.”
“How?” His antagonistic smirk would be enough to send anyone over the edge. But I’m not anyone.
“What do you mean, how?” I realize what he's implying halfway through the sentence.
Dammit. Since Parker and I were freshly married, not even twenty-four hours in, I hadn't recited the usual script.
On one hand, it's shady, but it's worked so far because the people I tell it to are too stupid to question it.
“Don't worry, girl. I got you.” He switches a bag of Cheetos to his other hand. Where the fuck did the Cheetos come from? Am I going insane? He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a set of keys.
They fly through the air. I catch them.
His lips close around his finger as he slowly sucks the orange dust from the tip. “Take mine.”
A black emblem sits in my palm. “Aston Martin?”
The dimple in his cheek deepens. “Mm-hmm. Consider it yours for the day. Until you, you know, find your own ride.”
“And you're letting me use your car?” I clear my throat. “A total stranger?”
He dusts his hands off on his jeans and swings to his feet, towering over me. The closer he gets, the less I can breathe. Some might say lust, I prefer allergic reaction.
”Well, shit, I sure hope you're not a thief. I'd hate to tell my buddy how bad his radar has gotten in his old age.”
I choke on my laugh. “Jesus, Asher.” I shouldn’t be laughing at a joke made at my new husband’s expense.
Whoopsie.
I can’t remember the last time anyone made me laugh that isn’t outside my close circle.
I swipe the tears from my face, and the image I have of Asher and Parker having that exact conversation. When I blink back up at Asher, he’s staring at me.
“What?”
He shrugs, shaking his head. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”
The blare of horns is cut off when the café door slams shut. Jord's bright blond head bobs around the corner, his skin a shade paler than his usual olive tone.
He massages his temples as he collapses into the chair beside me, opposite Lucinda. “This is a hangover from hell. What did I take last night?” He shakes himself off, before settling back on me. “How was the bus ride?”
I slide the keys onto the table.
Jord rolls his eyes. “So Luce cheated and gave you her car? No fair.”
“Ah, not mine,” Luce adds from behind her mug.
I point to her and sip my latte. “Not hers.”
Jord's brown eyes narrow.
“Courtesy of the best friend who, by the way, is apparently living with us for a year.”
Lucinda chokes on her coffee. “What!”
I shrug, stirring my latte before sucking the foam from the spoon. “Nothing I can't handle.”
“Have you told Nonna?” Jord's tone sobers, his eyes glassing over. “This is kind of a spin on the usual.”
My latte burns its way down my throat. “No. I'll message her today. Her signal has been choppy, so maybe she's on a job.”
They both fall silent.
“Maybe,” Lucinda whispers. “Or she’s finally found a new man. She deserves it.”
The entrance chimes and in a flurry of blue hair, Punk rushes toward us, laptop in hand. “Is there a reason we're doing this here instead of at the house?” She plops down at the end of the table, away from prying eyes, and flips open her computer.
Her fingers fly across the keyboard before she turns the screen to me. “Asher Jameson, grandson of Wickham Jameson.”
I snap my fingers. “I know that name.” Wickham Jameson was a fossil with a fortune.
His name was stamped on prestigious hotels everywhere.
We'd battled on the Forbes list before I finally surpassed him by a few hundred million last year.
I wonder who was set to inherit the empire when he finally shriveled up and died.
Punk continues, “He's also a professional snowboarder and every girl’s current obsession. Can't escape the paparazzi even if he tried. How the fuck is someone like Parker friends with someone like this?”
I snatch her laptop and read over the words as they argue back and forth. If Jord wasn’t right before about this putting a spin on things, he definitely is now.
“I don't know,” I answer Punk through a whisper, my throat tightening around the words. Shit. This might be a problem.
As if plucking the words from my brain, Lucinda turns to Punk. “Is this going to be an issue for us?”
Punk sighs, as if she’d run through every scenario on the way here. “It's risky. He poses a threat to all of us, not just Ivanya, but I can keep it under control. All I need to do, is ensure I remain two steps ahead.” She shuts the laptop and slides it back to her side.
I nod, pushing away my latte. There was no way I'd let this get derailed by an inconvenience like Asher and his harem of fans. It's annoying, but nothing Punk can't manage.
Twenty minutes later, I step out of the coffee shop and find my driver waiting exactly where Punk said he'd be. Daniel stands near the curb, his suit perfectly tailored.
He nods toward the idling car. “Parker agreed to hire me as your driver, Mrs. Lee.”
I bite back a laugh, slipping into the privacy of the town car. It’s not until his door clicks shut that my eyes land on his reflection in the rearview mirror. “I'm so glad to have you back, Daniel. Now I can give the boy back his car.”
He inclines his head, pulling us into traffic. “I hear you've met Asher Jameson.”
“I have.” I reach into the console for a bottle of water. “Anything you can tell me?”
“Nothing you don't already know or can't find on the internet, and from what I know, you won’t have any trouble in that department.”
A notification pings on my phone. I swipe it open to a new text.
This one might be a long one. Stay focused, My Mariee… it's everything you've worked for.
I lean my head against the cool glass and watch the trees blur past. A part of me hoped this time would be different, that for once, the Gods might be in my favor. I should know better by now. They never side with one of us.