Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 105183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
To heaven.
I don’t bother changing, calling an Uber and walking to the main road, tracking it on my phone to the corner. I jump in.
“Oxfordshire?” the driver asks in question.
“I’ll tip if you get me there within an hour.”
A smile creeps across my face, the anticipation unstoppable.
I love him.
I didn’t plan for it to happen, but here I am.
In love.
And I need to tell him.
Chapter 32
Stan is in his usual spot when my driver pulls around the fountain. “Miss Lazenby,” he says as he opens the door for me. “Looks like you made it just on time—we have rain coming in. Do you have any bags?”
“On the seat,” I say, getting out and letting him lean in to retrieve it as I look up at the black sky. “I can take it.”
“Not at all. I’ll have it delivered to Mr. Harrison’s apartment.”
I smile my thanks and hurry up the path to Arlington Hall. The glass doors slide open, letting me in, and I find the lobby is quiet, all guests probably in the bar or at dinner. I pass the empty reception desk, looking into the Library Bar, my steps faltering when I see Katherine’s husband in one of the chairs by the fireplace, a beer in his hand, a smile on his face. I can’t see Katherine opposite him, but I can see her black-booted stiletto heel by Rob’s knee swinging a little where her leg’s crossed.
On a mild scowl, I take the stairs two at a time, my anticipation growing.
I can smell him.
Pushing my way through various doors, I arrive at Jude’s apartment and knock, my impatience getting the better of me. So I knock again, listening, waiting. Bursting with desperation to see him.
The door finally swings open, and there he is in all his wonderful, stunning glory. And I know in this moment, without doubt, I’m head over heels. My stomach is doing cartwheels. I move forward and put myself in his chest, getting my lips on his. I love you!
“Amelia,” he says around my mouth, holding on to me. But he doesn’t return my kiss. In fact, he feels tense.
I pull my face away from his but not my body, looking at him. All the wonderful feelings fall away. I don’t like what I see. He’s nervous.
“I thought I’d surprise you,” I say, a horrible chill tickling its way down my spine.
“Well, you’ve certainly done that.”
I retreat, putting him at arm’s length. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, I’m just . . . I wasn’t expecting you. You said you’d call me back.”
This isn’t the welcome I was hoping for. “I decided to come inst—” The chink of a glass from inside his apartment stops me from finishing, and I look past him, the chill down my spine turning icy. “You’re not alone,” I say quietly.
“I . . .” He rakes a hand through his hair. “Shit.”
I swallow, pushing past him, marching into his apartment, my legs on autopilot.
“Amelia!” he yells, pursuing me.
The lounge is empty.
“Amelia, wait.”
I stop by the dining table, just as another sound comes from the kitchen.
“Amelia,” Jude breathes, blocking my path. He takes the tops of my arms, holding me in place, hunkering down to see me. “Before you—”
I wrench myself out of his grip and storm past him.
“Amelia,” he shouts, sounding panicked as he follows me. “Listen to me.”
I screech to a stop on the threshold of the kitchen when I find a woman at the oak island, a wineglass at her lips.
“Katherine,” I breathe, as she turns on her stool, crossing one leg over the other.
“Fuck.” Jude meets my back, taking my elbow. I shrug him off, noting Katherine’s shoes. Red stilettos.
“I thought . . .” My head spins. “I thought you were in the bar with Rob.”
“Oh,” she says, her voice sickeningly low. Smug. Her red lips stretch wide. “Is he having drinks with his plaything?”
Plaything.
“Oh my God.” I step back, meeting Jude’s chest.
“Amelia, I—”
“Do not tell me to listen to you,” I warn, the pain in my chest unbearable, but my anger is keeping me from folding to the floor in despair.
“Please, listen to me,” Jude pleads, trying to turn me to face him.
“I said don’t!” I push him away. I don’t want him anywhere near me. The island is set for two to eat. Two plates half-eaten. Two wineglasses. There’s a pan on the stove, some spices in jars by a chopping board. He’s cooked for her? My eyes find Katherine. “Are you still sleeping with him?” I ask.
“Amelia.” Jude appears in front of me again, bending to get my eyes.
I look at him with a cool, fixed expression. “I’m not talking to you,” I say, equally as cool as I move aside, getting Katherine back in my sights. “Are you still sleeping with him?”
She slowly places her glass down and looks at Jude next to me. And for the first time, I ask myself why he hasn’t refuted it, whether I asked him or not. “Well?”