“She’s pretty fucking hot. I’d tap that.”
I clasped my hands together. I did not like Adam talking about her like that.
“You’re not getting the opportunity. She’s going to be my wife.”
‘But you said you’re not in love with her, which means there’s something else going on. That’s your business to tell me when the fuck you want. My next question is when are you getting married and who’s going to be the best man?” He sat back in the chair, coffee now in hand and looked far too comfortable.
“I’m meeting with her this evening. We’re going through ideas for venues and dates then. You’ll have to be best man.”
“Stag do?”
“Absolutely not, unless it’s somewhere warm and away from the media.” I drank my coffee in one go. I needed to get some bigger mugs.
“Okay, when am I meeting her and when’s she moving in?”
Fuck. We would need to live together or at least have it look like we lived together to pull this off.
“Soon. We’re still debating whether to move her in here or buy somewhere new.” Somewhere I hadn’t already brought several dozen woman, because even though none of this was real, I didn’t like the idea of having my wife in the same bed or near the same bed as where fuck knew who had been. Although this needed to be added to the list of things we had to talk about later.
“When did you meet?”
“The night I announced I was quitting.”
Adam’s eyes narrowed at me. “She was the blonde you left with.”
“That’s the one. Anyway, why are you here?”
“I have a project for you. One I think you’ll say yes to.”
“Hit me with it.” I braced myself. Adam had been involved with various projects in the last few years, some were completely obscure.
“One of the scripts I’m reading – the director is big news.” He told me his name. “They sounded me out about us writing the soundtrack. What do you think? We wouldn’t necessarily need to perform it – it could be a variety of artists.”
I sat up, grateful to focus on something else than Sophie. “Tell me more.”
* * *
We met where it had all started: Simone Wood’s restaurant, only this time I wasn’t getting ready to release a statement announcing my retreat from public life. The building was where I’d lived for half a decade, a place that housed unwanted children before it became a Michelin starred eatery. It looked nothing like I remembered; the restaurant was open plan, dim lights creating an atmosphere of secrecy and seduction and whatever Simone had on the menu smelled fucking amazing.
Sophie was sitting at a table at the back, her hair down and straight. I hadn’t seen it like that before. It was blonde and thick and I figured that she could’ve modelled for shampoo commercials if she’d wanted.
“Liam.” She stood up, leaving her seat to meet me.
We were in public and therefore the show started here. The ring was on her finger – now the right size as she’d text me – and she headed towards me with what looked like excitement and pleasure at seeing me.
Her arms went round my neck and I felt her breasts push against my chest. Breasts I’d become slightly obsessed with during our one night together. I’d have been a liar if I said I hadn’t thought about how her body felt next to mine, how her tits had bounced and how she’d clamped tightly around me when she’d come.
“I’m going to need an Oscar for this.” She breathed the words into my ear. “And a lot of gin. Possibly therapy.”
“Pre-nup says you’ll be paying for all that yourself.” I gave her arse a quick feel, squeezing one cheek, expecting her to move away.
She didn’t. Instead she brought her lips to mine and began a kiss that was verging on indecent. My cock began to harden, reading signs that were familiar, but this wasn’t ending up the same way as that night. Sophie was warm under my hands. I moved them up her body, cupping her face so I could take some control over the kiss.
“I’m not licensed for sex shows.” The voice was familiar.
We broke apart, me now holding her waist, her lipstick smudged. I realised I was probably wearing half of it and that had possibly been part of her intention.
Simone Wood, her pregnant belly a new feature, stood in front of us, arms folded. “Seriously, Soph, if you do that again you need to use the upstairs flat. You might put some people off their food.”
