Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
“Tell me your name.”
For a brief moment, I forgot what it was. “Astrid.”
He continued his stare.
“Yours?” I had his last name, but not his first.
“Theo.”
My eyes dropped to his hand, seeing the enormous rock on his finger, a piece of jewelry that was probably worth more than all the paintings in this gallery. It was so striking and potent, there was no way people didn’t notice it—and that was the way he wanted it. “That’s an interesting ring.”
He didn’t look down at his left hand. Didn’t seem to care about the comment I made or feel pressured to address the questions I never asked.
“I’ll deliver your paintings and arrange for them to be hung on your wall.” The energy that emitted from him was just as substantial as the energy from all these paintings, their ability to evoke a range of emotions with just the color of their paints. “I can probably get this done tomorrow—”
“Let’s have dinner.” He spoke over me like he hadn’t been listening to a word I said, just watched my lips move while nothing came out. “I know a good place around the corner.”
“Um…” He caught me off guard, and I wasn’t sure if that invitation was personal or business. Whether it was business or not, he’d selected his paintings, so there was no reason for us to continue a conversation. But I wanted to say yes…and that made me writhe in both disappointment and gut-wrenching guilt. “I’m married.”
His expression didn’t change, so he either had a great poker face or he really felt no disappointment at my rejection. “You don’t wear a wedding ring.”
My fingers automatically felt my left hand where my naked finger sat. “I was in a hurry this morning and forgot it.”
Those dark eyes continued to pierce me with judgment. “If I had a wife, I’d make sure she’d never forget to wear hers.” He turned away from me and the painting and headed back to the stairs, his muscular back filling out his shirt in every sexy way.
I watched him go, a sharp pain in my chest, a wave of guilt coupled with inexplicable longing. Marrying my husband had been a foolish decision, but I had been wildly in love. But that love had fallen apart like a house that descended into ruin from a lack of maintenance. First, the pipes had turned to rust, then the walls filled with mold, the roof cracked in a storm…and then it came tumbling down into a pile of rubble that no one wanted to clear away.
I looked at the painting again, and for just a second, I saw myself standing there, eating the corpse of a victim…a changeling.
4
THEO
I sat alone and stared at the girls on the stage, drinking my scotch the way finer people enjoyed their wine. The bass from the music blared and drowned out the sound of nearby conversation. Watching naked girls dance around in a room with other men with hard dicks was strange to me, but I did it for business. Businessman did most of their deals on the golf course, and I did mine in the strip club.
Axel finally arrived, catching up with the bouncer he used to see all the time. After he fist-bumped him, he made his way over to me but got a drink from the waitress along the way. His wedding ring was distinct on his left hand because no other man wore a wedding ring in a place like this.
He dropped into the armchair beside me, his head turned to greet me. Not once did he look at the topless girls as they grinded on the pole, their tits out and their G-strings stuffed with bills. “You look pissed.”
“You look tired.”
“Fuck, I’m always tired.” He chuckled before he took a drink.
“Scarlett doesn’t care that you’re here?”
“What are you talking about? She loves you.”
“I meant the atmosphere.” I nodded to the girl in front of me, who seemed to take it as a personal offense that I didn’t seem interested.
“Oh, she doesn’t care.”
“She doesn’t care that her husband is visiting strip clubs?”
“My baby knows I’ve only got eyes for her.” He grabbed his drink and took another sip. And just like he said, he never looked, didn’t even glance at the naked girl who passed right in front of us. “You’re the one who wanted to meet here, by the way.”
“You wanted to catch up, and I told you where I was. Didn’t expect you to come down.” I grabbed a cigar and lit up. “How are the kids?”
“Emotional terrorists and fucking cockblocks.”
I smirked.
“But I love my babies.”
“Do you actually mean that, or do you feel obligated to say that?” I wasn’t the family man kind of guy. Never had been and never would be. Every parent I knew was miserable until their kids finally left the nest.