‘It’s doing better than you, apparently…’
‘Whatever. You’ll be pleased to know I’ve got more material since we last spoke. A lot more.’
‘Well thank fuck for that. At least this lovey dovey phase is proving beneficial in some way.’
‘Oh, trust me, brother, it’s not a phase. And it’s super beneficial to those involved.’ My dick twitches at the flashbacks dancing through my mind.
‘Don’t make me come over there and beat some sense into you.’ He sighs. I can practically see him rolling his eyes.
‘I think you should. Then you’ll see it’s the real deal.’
‘The only place you’re going to see me is Vegas. Send me the material so I can see exactly how beneficial your new beau is.’
‘Ok. Talk later. Don’t bang my fucking car.’
‘Of course I won’t. Does banginginit count? Coz me and Cindy…’
I hang up before I have to listen to any more of his shit.
It’s early afternoon before I emerge from my suite. Padding across the corridor, Archie informs me Sasha’s not there before I knock.
Ambling down the wide staircase, I seek her out. My fingers literally itch to touch her. I knock the door to her office. It used to be her father’s, once upon a time. We used to creep past it en route to the kitchen to raid the leftover desserts. A smile inches onto my face at the memory.
Pushing open the door, disappointment surges. She’s not here, but I take a minute to examine its huge wood-panelled walls. My attention’s drawn to the magnificent art work – the glorious landscape of Velvet Strand. An impulsive urge to visit presses at my chest. It’s not only beautiful, but it holds some fabulous sun-soaked memories.
Memories I’d love to recreate.
I don’t know how I’m going to make things work with Sasha, from a practical point of view. LA is where all the big dicks hang out. It’s where I need to be to further my career. I’m not ready to retire just yet. Would she consider coming with me? She would have done, at one point. Megan could run the castle in our absence.
What about Victoria? Where does she plan on going to college? Maybe she’d like the States?
Jesus, I’m getting ahead of myself again.
Slipping out of the office, I make my way towards the restaurant. At four p.m., the lunch rush is over and the dinner reservations have yet to begin. Immaculate white napkins line the tables, expertly folded into crisp, starched triangles. The silverware gleams under the chandelier as I pass through to the kitchen.
Peeping through the circular window, I’m slapped by a sense of déjà vu. Sasha’s perched on the kitchen counter again. Conor hovers in front of her with his back to me. Several other chefs work at various stations, paying no attention to their boss’s presence, so I can only assume her visits and the comfortable way she sits with Conor is a fairly regular occurrence.
Her hand lingers on his shoulder. I can’t hear what she’s saying but her cheeks colour at something he says, her smile wide enough to display perfect ivory teeth. Red-hot jealousy rips through me like an out-of-control bush fire.
I march halfway across the kitchen just in time to hear Conor say, ‘I care about you, that’s all.’
So do I, dickhead.
Sasha’s head whips up to look in my direction, like she instinctively knows I’m there.
‘Ryan.’ She shoots Conor a glance as if to warn him to hold his tongue.
I’d like to give him a warning of my own. Like stay the fuck away from my woman.
Instead, I force my lips to smile graciously at him. I won, after all. It was my bed she woke up in. And it’s my bed she’ll fall into tonight. I won’t have it any other way.
‘More menu tasting?’ Conor steps back as I reach Sasha and plant a kiss on her mouth.
‘No, actually Conor’s cousin is on his way in. Remember, the band for the ball?’
‘Of course.’ It had totally slipped my mind, but I’m glad I’m here to meet them, music being my only other interest bar the woman sitting in front of me.
A flashback of her legs spread on the dining table springs to mind and from the way she bites her lower lip, I gather I’m not the only one.
