Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 96513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Court said. “You cannot blame Katherine for this. You were less of a jackass while we were away because of her. This is not her fault. It’s not your fault. It just… happened.”
“Nothing just happens,” I told him. “Something caused this.”
“Then figure out what it was. But you don’t actually believe that it’s your fuckup. Camden Percy doesn’t fuck up, even when his head is more interested in getting laid than the business.”
“And I didn’t even get laid.”
Court choked on his next inhalation. “What the fuck, dude? You two were alone for a week! How hard was it to get in her pants?”
I didn’t explain it to Court. He didn’t need to know my particular proclivities. Not when it came to Katherine Van Pelt. The truth was… it would have been easy to fuck her. Fuck her until she couldn’t walk and do it again day after day after day. It was what I’d wanted to do, but it wouldn’t have kept her. She needed more than that. She needed handling. And I enjoyed handling her, but then she’d gone and fucked it all up royally. Just when I’d been ready to give her what she’d been all but begging me for.
Court shook his head at my silence. “You know that she doesn’t love Penn, right?”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “You didn’t see them together.”
“I don’t have to. I have eyes. I see Penn with Natalie. I see Katherine with you. There’s no comparison, man. You two are the only ones who don’t see it.”
“I’d still like to kill him,” I told Court.
He snorted. “Yeah, well, it should say something that you want to kill him and not her, you possessive jackass.”
I shrugged. “I need to be focused on work right now, not Katherine.”
“Wrong. You need to focus on your wife,” Court said. “Or else you’re going to lose her for good this time.”
His words chilled me. Katherine and I had gone back and forth for so long. It didn’t seem possible that this would ruin everything. We were bound for life. She wasn’t getting out of this contract, but that didn’t mean that we had to be together. We’d spent the last six months seeing each other only in public when we had to. I didn’t fucking want that. It was why I’d offered the truce in the first place. Then I’d gone ballistic at the sight of them together.
Fuck, maybe I’d have to call her. She was likely still furious with me. She hadn’t even flown back to New York with me. I didn’t have words to make it up to her. But I had actions. That was the only thing she responded to anyway.
“Maybe you’re right,” I admitted.
Maybe I needed to win back my wife.
20
Katherine
“Girrrlll,” Alexandre D’Oria trilled, “did you go down another dress size?”
Alexandre was the up-and-coming designer that I’d decided to work with for my Fashion Week dress. He was doing daring work that complemented my style. When I’d approached him, he’d fallen all over himself to say yes. My dress could make his career this Fashion Week, especially since he wasn’t doing runway in New York, just exhibiting.
“I couldn’t have,” I said, running my hands down my narrow hips in the trifold mirror.
English stood nearby in black cigarette pants, a black tank, and a blazer. She shook her head. “Seriously, how do you do it? I’m going to need the name of that trainer. You’d think that I’d be losing a shit-ton because of the divorce, but no!”
“You’re happy with Court. That’s what happens,” I told her.
“Well, we’re going to have to take this in,” Alexandre said. “If you go down another dress size, we might be in trouble. But, girl, you look so fab.”
“Thanks,” I said with a grin for both of them.
“You’re next, baby girl,” Alexandre said, waving his hand at English. “Strip, and I’ll have Dominique get you into your dress.”
“I can’t believe you’re doing this for me,” English said as she removed her blazer.
“Of course,” I said. “We must celebrate your official divorce.”
English laughed and shook her head. Her divorce would be finalized the weekend before the annual Fashion Week gala. We’d all decided to throw her a huge party, but I’d also offered to get everyone into the Fashion Week gala as a second surprise with Alexandre designing a dress for English. Now that all of my girls were coming, I couldn’t wait. This was going to be infinitely better than last year.
A phone buzzed on one of the tables.
English stepped over and picked it up. “It’s yours, Katherine,” she said. “Camden.”
I shook my head. “Let it go to voicemail.”
English frowned and then clicked the button for it to be silent. “Are you two still fighting?”
“No. The fighting is done,” I told her. “Now, we’re just not speaking. It’s better that way.”