10. Brantley
B rantley~
Tonight was turning into an epic clusterfuck.
Not only had Rochelle arrived at the same time that I’d had, but we’d also walked into the building together, making it appear as if we had arrived as a couple, which couldn’t be further from the truth.
We’d met outside, and because I held no ill will towards the woman, I had walked in with her, deciding not to be rude and treat her like some unwanted regret.
My mistake.
Maris Abernathy’s comments regarding Rochelle had pointed out the grave error, and I could only imagine what Keris was thinking.
She hadn’t seemed impressed that I was wearing my wedding ring, but then most of the men in this building fucked their mistresses while wearing their rings on their fingers.
Things had also gotten worse when Keris had thrown my words back in my face, surprising me with another obstacle to add to our already fucked-up situation.
I’d only said that shit to piss off my father, but she didn’t know that.
She believed that I didn’t want anything to do with her, and that I planned on taking care of business with other women.
Yeah, walking in with Rochelle had been just fucking brilliant.
Granted, while I understood why Keris wasn’t wearing her wedding rings now, that didn’t help tamp down my anger.
When I had spotted her from across the room, that’d been the first thing that I’d noticed about her; her wedding rings had been missing.
After that, I had noticed how fucking beautiful she looked, and that had just pissed me off further.
No matter how it came to be, she was my wife.
Keris Bishop belonged to me, and she should be wearing the fucking receipt on her finger.
After correcting Maris that Rochelle and I were no longer an item, I had excused myself, making sure to finish my drink first. The plan had been to follow Keris, then finish our conversation, but by the time the third person of the night had intercepted me, I’d lost her in the crowd, which was probably a good thing.
In the current mood that I was in, things could get really ugly, really fast. So, while I normally didn’t partake in nicotine, I had bummed a cigarette off one of the waiters, then stepped outside to fill my lungs with the calmness of the vice.
Another mistake on my part.
Walking back in from the upper balcony, Rochelle was coming around the corner, and when she saw me, a knowing smirk decorated her beautifully painted lips.
“You know, when you broke things off, you never said that it was because you were getting married,” she said, gesturing to my left hand.
“That’s because it wasn’t and isn’t any of your business, Rochelle,” I reminded her. “We didn’t have a relationship that required an explanation from me. Be lucky that you got a phone call and not a text like all the others.”
I purposely reminded her that she hadn’t been the only one that I’d been fucking just to drive my point home. While I had no issues with Rochelle, she had also just been an easy fuck, a dutiful escort to formal functions.
“Relax,” she said. “No need to get testy, Kingston.”
That was another thing; Rochelle had never once called me by my first name. She had always called me Kingston, even in bed. I used to wonder if she did it because it was my last name that got her off and nothing more. Again, she was an unapologetic gold-digger. Beau was right up her alley, in fact.
“I’m not getting testy,” I denied. “I’m simply reminding you that my personal life is none of your business.”
“It used to be,” she countered.
“No, it didn’t,” I argued. “You know nothing about me apart from my net worth and the size of my dick, Rochelle. Don’t flatter yourself into thinking that you meant more than what you did. The other women I fucked know the same shit.”
Her light blue eyes glittered with offense. “I don’t deserve that,” she bit out.
“Anyone getting into my business- when they’re not welcomed -deserves whatever they get, and that includes you,” I shot back.
“I’m not sure what you thought was going on, but you were clearly wrong.
My life, and every category in it, stopped being your concern the second that I didn’t need use of your available orifices. ”
“You’re a bastard,” she hissed.
“Never said that I wasn’t,” I agreed. “However, you’re the one overstepping here, Rochelle. This could have been cordial and simple, but you’re the one intruding on shit that is none of your business.”
“Because I’m curious about your wife?” she asked, still sounding entitled.
“Because you’re asking about anything that has to do with me when you don’t have the right.”
“Kingston, we were seeing each other for-”
“See?” I interrupted. “We were never seeing each other, Rochelle. We were fucking when we found it convenient. That’s it, that’s all.”
Rochelle stepped close enough to invade my space, and I could only sigh. I was going to have to get rude, and I hated dealing with shit this unimportant to me.
“Are you telling me that your wife is the type to let you walk her out onto the balcony and fuck her up the ass with the whole city looking up at you?” she asked huskily, recounting one of the many times that she had wanted people to watch.
“Will she like to be used and shared? We both know how much you like to watch, Kingston.”
That was untrue.
There’d been many times that Rochelle had been the entertainment after a late-night business meeting, but it wasn’t because I liked to watch other guys fuck her.
I just hadn’t cared if other guys fucked her, in front of me or otherwise.
I didn’t own the woman, and if she needed more dick to get off, then God bless her.
I also didn’t care about other people watching me fuck her.
I hadn’t had a possessive streak where she’d been concerned.
However, I did have one where my wife was concerned.
“Not every woman is me, Kingston,” she went on, and little did she know that her statement was a good thing.
Nevertheless, before I could correct her on everything that she’d just said, a flash of pale pink caught my eye, and I looked over to see Keris standing only a few feet away. She looked between me and Rochelle, and it was like things couldn’t get any fucking worse.
“Excuse me,” she said quietly, though her back was straight and her chin was held high. “I was just passing on the way to the restrooms.”
As soon as she turned to find another set of restrooms, the incredulousness in Rochelle’s voice caught my attention. “You married Keris Bishop, didn’t you?”
With no point in hiding it any longer, I said, “I married her four weeks ago.”
“Oh, God,” she exclaimed. “It makes total sense now.”
Tearing my eyes away from where Keris had taken off, I looked down at Rochelle. “What does?”
“You married the girl with the diamond mines,” she said. “If anything could get you to the altar, it’d be a billion-dollar island.”
Even though it was the truth, I didn’t like hearing it.
I also felt protective of my marriage, so I looked Rochelle in the eye, then warned, “Watch your tongue, Rochelle. If I were you, I wouldn’t go around speculating about my reasons for marrying Keris.
I also would be careful about spreading unwarranted rumors. ”
Her blue eyes widened. “Are you seriously trying to tell me that it’s love?” She scoffed in disbelief. “I’d never believe it.”
“I don’t give a fuck if you believe it or not, Rochelle. Your opinion isn’t relevant in my life,” I bit out. “However, if I hear of you talking any shit about my wife or my marriage, I will fucking destroy you. Try me if you think that I’m bluffing.”
She threw her hands up in mock surrender. “I’m...yeah, no...I’m sorry,” she said, though I doubted that she was sincere. “I didn’t realize that it was serious.”
Already done wasting my time on her, I took off after Keris like I should have the second that she had turned, then walked away. I was also very aware that I was fucking this up something fierce, but in my defense, I’d never had a wife that I had to fucking chase before.
I searched for her everywhere, and that left her leaving or being locked safely in one of the women’s restrooms. When I saw her boss, Faron Golden, still milling about, I guessed that she was still here.
I almost approached him, but I had no idea if he knew that Keris had married me or not, and I was actually worried about making this shit more of a fucking mess.
God, I was fucking tired.
Had I known that having a wife was going to be this fucking exhausting, I would have left Central America a day earlier, then had gotten some goddamn rest.
Ready to commit all kinds of indecency crimes by checking the women’s restrooms, my irrational actions were put to a stop when Magnus found me.
Deciding that I might need some advice- after all, Magnus did possess a wife of sorts -I gave him a quick rundown of the night, explaining exactly why I hadn’t gone looking for him yet.
By the time that I was done, the man looked sorry for me.