Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82474 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82474 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
She doesn’t cross to the window for a better look. I try not to hold it against her.
While she examines the merchandise, I force a piece of steak into my mouth. It melts on my tongue, buttery and supple. It’s possibly the most delicious steak I’ve ever eaten.
It’s hard to swallow. I have to wash it down with a gulp of sparkling water—Sheryl refused still when the waiter asked, practically offended by the notion.
“What did Lark say?” she asks, after a long pause. The lump in my throat doubles in size, having nothing to do with the steak.
“Pretty much the same thing.” I manage to keep a tremor from my voice. Good.
“He has a better eye than me for these sorts of things,” Sheryl admits, setting the palette down to take a bite of her own meal. “I’m more of a flavors-and-scents type. He’s the visual one.” She points with her fork. “Is something wrong? If they’ve overcooked it, I can send it back.”
“No, no. It’s delicious.” I raise my fork and knife again with effort. “I’m just… savoring.”
“A girl after my own heart.” Sheryl smiles at me, conspiratorially.
I grin back, trying not to let the guilt overwhelm me. Lark told me things were over between them. And I believe him. But the look in her eyes whenever she brings him up… Not to mention how often she brings him up…
I think about the delivery man again, from earlier today. Shame about their troubles. And here I am, adding to those troubles. Maybe at first I was innocent, unaware of Lark’s complicated situation. But now?
“Do I have anything in my teeth?” Sheryl asks, an eyebrow lifted, and I realize I’ve been staring.
“Sorry, no.” I drop my gaze. Search for an excuse. “I was just trying to figure out what shade of lipstick you’re wearing.”
She grins. “I appreciate how your mind is always on your work. Makes me feel confident to be your first investor.” She cuts off another piece, and I mimic her, the savory steak tasting like a solid block on my tongue. “I’m not sure of the name actually. Or even the brand. To be honest, I rarely wear makeup. Some old trifle Lark bought me years ago.”
I take another, longer gulp of water. Clear my throat. “So you two are…?” I let the question linger, unfinished.
Sheryl’s smile turns rueful. “Were,” she corrects, and I have to admit that the single word nearly makes me slide off my chair, weak with relief. At least that part is true, then. “We were married, for four years.”
“And you still manage to be business partners?” I can’t keep the note of surprise from my tone.
But it doesn’t seem to bother her. She leans back in her chair with a sigh. “Lark and I never did do anything the conventional way.” Her expression has turned inward, fond. “When we got married, we opened Anderson Investments the same year. Everyone told us it was mad, but we insisted. In for a penny, in for a pound, I always thought. Suppose some of those people are probably thinking told you so right about now, but…” She shakes her head, her mouth drooping at the corners. “I don’t mind. At least the business still keeps us somewhat connected now. Friends, if not anything more.”
“So, if you’re friends… you’d be okay with it if he moved on?” The words are out of my mouth before I can think better. Before I can shove another piece of steak past my lips to make me hold my tongue.
Sheryl’s gaze jumps to mine, suddenly sharp. When she smiles again, it’s sharper than last time, pointed. “Are you interested in him?” she asks, point-blank, in a way that throws me completely.
“Of course not,” I blurt. Because what am I going to do? Admit right here at the lunch table that I’m still sore from her husband’s cock inside me last night?
God, what am I doing? I swore I would never be that woman, the type to break up someone else’s marriage. Granted, theirs may already have ended, but it’s clear Sheryl still holds fond feelings for Lark. She looks so wistful talking about their past… and so sad talking about the way it ended.
I lean forward, palms flat on the table. “There’s nothing between me and him, Sheryl,” I say, looking her dead in the eyes. “I promise you.”
And in that moment, I mean every word. Because I decide right then and there, I’m not pursuing him any further.
7
Cassidy
It turns out having a real investor with actual cashflow makes things move forward with exponential speed in the business world. Next thing I know, within days, we’ve already got a couple of media interviews on the docket, plus a featured ad in two major fashion magazines.
I don’t know how Lark and Sheryl did it. Lark assures me—through texts, since I’ve put off seeing him face-to-face again, claiming to be busy, because I haven’t worked out yet how exactly to explain my sudden change of conscience—that it was all Sheryl’s doing. But I’m not entirely sure I believe him, based on how infrequently Sheryl replies to my emails to check in on various details.