"Yes, Miss Lauren. He's returning Thursday, around 11am, I believe."
Hating that her bodyguard knew when her husband was returning when Thomas couldn't be bothered to tell her himself, she nodded again. "Okay. Thanks, Chuck, I'm in for the night, if you want to head out." Lauren wouldn't turn around and risk him seeing her hurt and disappointment, so she missed the quick flash of pity on his face.
"I have no other obligations, Miss Lauren, if you would prefer I stayed."
Lauren's brow rose. Chuckneveroffered to stay. He simply did as he was told with the same level of polite disinterest as he always had. Surreptitiously wiping her running nose, she mumbled, "Thanks, Chuck. I'm good. But... you know. Thanks anyway. Goodnight."
And now, it was 2am on Friday morning, fifteen hours or so after Thomas returned to London and his bitter wife finally heard his key in the door, his quiet conversation with Chuck and his footsteps on the stairs to their bedroom. She closed her eyes, forcing herself to breathe evenly, her back to the door. She could see the faint light from the hallway under her closed lids, but her slow inhales and exhales didn't falter. The girl could hear his deliberate tread come close to the bed and stop, Thomas likely examining her. Then in silence, he went into their dressing room, flipping on the light as he shut the door. Rubbing the tears seeping from her eyelids on her 1,200-thread count pillow, Lauren reminded herself. It was good that she knew who he really was. A monster. Nothing else, just a monster.
Waking late the next morning, she rubbed her crusty eyelids and groaned silently. Did she really finish off that second bottle of wine? Nonetheless, Lauren's nose twitched when she smelled bacon wafting up the stairway. Chuck never cooked. He had started their gigantic stainless coffee maker for her once but even that was clearly something that made him uncomfortable. That could only mean Thomas was still here. Sighing, the girl mumbled, "Let's get it over with," showering quickly and pulling on a dress. One she knew he didn't like. But a dress, as required.
"Good morning, darling." Her husband's back was to her as Lauren entered the room, but she still shivered a little to hear his voice,TheVoice, warmer, the vowels almost caressing her. "Did you sleep well?"
Thrown off a little by the pleasantry, she awkwardly poured a cup of coffee, "Just fine, thank you. Um... don't you have to be at the office today?" He turned around then, and Lauren forced herself to look him in the eye. Goddamn him, he was so beautiful, her dark husband. Freshly shaved, in a crisp, light blue shirt and sapphire tie that matched his eyes.
"Not right away," Thomas said casually, "I finished most of the urgent issues that couldn't wait when I returned yesterday."
Cautiously, Lauren wondered if that was his way of explaining his absence all day. "Oh." Not sure what else to say, she took another sip of her sacred, life-giving coffee. She'd think more clearly when the caffeine hit. She would figure out why her husband was bothering to be nice to her, to explain things. Meanwhile, Thomas was plating up breakfast, the lovely, lovely bacon, waffles drowning in butter and far more syrup than was necessary - just the way she liked them - and sliced fruit. Puzzled, Lauren took her seat. Why was he bothering? "Thank you?" she said. His gaze was steady as he smiled at her briefly.
"Is that a question?" he asked as he took his seat, putting his napkin over his trousers.
"Um..." Lauren couldn't think of what to say. "I'm, um, sorry. Not enough caffeine yet. Thank you for breakfast." She really wished he'd go away so she could truly appreciate the waffles, eating in front of this man who was more or less a stranger again was very uncomfortable. But her unfairly handsome spouse seemed quite relaxed, finally finishing his food and sitting back in his chair, regarding her.
"How have you been, Lauren?"
She looked up, puzzled. "Excuse me?"
Thomas leaned forward, resting his elbows on the antique farmhouse table. "How. Have. You. Been?" Despite more or less spelling out the words, his expression was still pleasant, his eyes warm.
What did he want to hear?she thought, trying to come up with an answer. "I'm... fine, Thomas, thank you. Everything's been fine." Too late she realized he probably meant that disastrous lunch at the Connaught. "B- besides the lunch thing. You know, with Arabella."
"Ah," he said thoughtfully, "that." Thomas watched the top of his bride's head as she bowed it over her plate. She'd not looked at him directly once since walking into the room. Not that he deserved it. "I am sorry that happened to you."
Now, her head shot up, those lovely eyes wide. "What?"
Thomas spoke slowly, "You did nothing wrong, darling. You knew nothing about The Corporation issues with that arse Martinsson. But Arabella did." His expression hardened until he watched her tense up again. Forcing himself to relax, he continued, "Do you remember my trip to Denmark?"
"Yes, of course.”
He nodded. "Martinsson's group was the one who lost the bid on the company takeover we negotiated there. It is not the first time this has happened. He is a fool, but he refuses to stop attempting to challenge us."
Lauren frowned, "He must be very dangerous."
Pleased that she understood, Thomas nodded. "He is not someone I would have ever wished you to meet. I don't understand Arabella's carelessness, but-"
"Please don't let Number One hurt her!" Lauren burst out. "I understand why she wanted to go there- it wasn't to start something, I'm sure of it."
Leaning back and folding his arms, Thomas watched her, brow raised. "Explain."
"She... it's her 'screw you' move." Lauren tried to make her amused spouse understand. "Arabella didn't come from much - you know that - and it's her way of showing all the rich, snooty power types that she's just as good, on top of the heap." Waving her hands, she struggled, "You know, the 'screw you' move." Her spouse was smothering a smile, she could tell, but at least Thomas wasn't cold or angry at her.
"I see," he answered gravely, "but while we are dealing with the possible repercussions of this encounter, I would like you to avoid spending time with her." Lauren nodded, looking down again and fork making patterns in her little pool of syrup. "You, however," Thomas continued, "need to get ready. Your afternoon is a busy one."
Ah, now his girl was alarmed. "With what? Did I miss something? I'm sorry, I'll-" Lauren stopped instantly when his big, warm hand landed on her restless one, stilling her.
"You haven't neglected anything, darling. But the initial shipment of instruments and sound equipment is being delivered to the first primary school on the new Genesis Project schedule. I know you'll want to be there to help sort it out." Thomas felt the pain that had been twisting his gut for the last two weeks return at the look of shock, then anxiety on Lauren's lovely face. She could never hide her emotions.
"But... I... that seems like a very bad idea, Thomas, and I have lots to do... uh..." looking around the spotless, sunny kitchen, she finished lamely, "... um, here."
