by Shel Stone
She was talking to distract herself, but he knew she was worried about the Azmers being back in town.
“Hey,” a voice called. Aggie’s voice.
“In the kitchen,” Esme replied and Aggie appeared.
“I was frankly gobsmacked when I saw him,” Aggie said, and Inns groaned because he didn’t want to talk about the fucking Azmers. Everything was better when they pretended those cocks didn’t exist. “So here’s the story. Persephone Barensteen invited him to upset her brother who is currently dating Samara Azmer. Lovely family, aren’t they? I thought our family was bad, but we’re not in the league of the Azmers and Barensteens.”
“We’re not as rich either,” Inns added.
“And I can’t say I’m sorry considering how they behave. Would you invite someone’s worst enemy around to piss them off?”
Not a bad tactic if one played those games. Amongst his set, there were more gentle reinforcements of the hierarchy. Ridicule and social exclusion were the predominant currency, not the high drama theatrics that went on around here.
“Question is if he’ll stay, and Gabby Forthing reckons he’s here to show off his new girlfriend. Total arm candy. The girl is utter perfection. A younger version of Samara. Poor bitch. Could you imagine having that as an ex-husband? I swear I’ll never marry.”
An ongoing discussion between their mothers. They spoke about it with him around as if he wasn’t there.
“Anyway, I thought I’d see how you are. I see Inns has been keeping you here, like an ogre.”
Inns felt like he needed to defend himself against the accusation, but couldn’t be bothered. It seemed a nicer scenario compared to the heart wrenching reality.
“There is literally nothing worse than boyfriends past.” Was that a dig at him? “Anyway, I am taking you out, and I’m not taking no for an answer. I suppose you can come—if you must,” she said to him.
Oh wonderful, the joyful experience of spending time with Aggie. How could he refuse? Could he refuse?
“I need a shower,” Esme said. Esme rushed off, and Inns knew that she wanted to be alone. She wasn’t over this news yet.
“She’s shaken,” Inns said.
“And she’s probably right to be. That guy’s an absolute terror. Luckily you’ve come back to mess with her, so she’ll be heartbroken over that. Maybe enough not to get sucked into any of his bullshit, so there’s always that.”
“I haven’t done any of this on purpose,” Inns said. “I’ve tried really hard not to hurt her. I just can’t succeed at it.”
“Maybe because you two twits are in love. She only got with that guy because she was trying to get over you.”
Hearing it certainly didn’t make him feel better. It ground harshly in his gut hearing it stated.
“What am I supposed to do? Tell me what I should have done?”
Aggie growled and looked away. “You shouldn’t have come back. You shouldn’t have messed with her.”
All this he knew, but he also felt unjustly accused. “I’m not responsible for Darius Azmer, or the fact that he may or may not be coming back.” if only he could make his heart agree. “So what can I do? Should I stay?”
Aggie stared at him for a moment. “Should you stay with the person you are in love with? I don’t know. I would.”
“And what would I do here?”
“Live your life like everyone else. You’re the one who decided we weren’t good enough for you.”
It was hard to argue. Nothing he tried to formulate sounded authentic. Yes, this wasn’t the crowd he’d sought, his crowd. His friends, his society.
“I have to take over Bennington Hall at some point.”
“And that could be in forty years.”
“What if it’s not? What if it’s in five years? That’s not the life she wants. I can walk away from a lot of things, but that isn’t one of them.”
“Look, a lot can happen. A lot will happen. She loves you, and if you have to go, she might actually come with you. Or you two might last two months and then it’s all over with. You can’t plan these things. And you can’t determine what she wants in five years. Neither of you will be the same person then. Things change. People get married, start having kids. I can tell you what, though, I’m pretty sure she won’t want her kids going to some insular, fetish-inducing old-world school that thinks it’s still a hundred years ago.”
“I know,” Inns said. He’d always known.
“One of you will have to make a sacrifice. Someone always makes a sacrifice. And since she’s relatively happy here, and you’re miserable as fuck wherever you are, it should be you. I don’t quite get why she loves you, but she does, and over time she might learn to embrace Bennington Hall, and all that ‘we rule the waves’ bullshit. Or you can go home and marry Annabel. The choice is yours.”
The worst thing about talking to Aggie was that there was always truth to her sharp and cutting arguments. It was like being dissected and then bombarded by his worst realities.
“What have you been talking about?” Esme asked as she returned, wearing makeup and her hair done. She looked gorgeous. How in the world had he ended up with a girl like her? She was much too good for him.
“Nothing,” he said with a smile.
“We were just talking about where we should go,” Aggie said. “Inns recommends Fleur. He loves a good café, don’t you, Inns? What would living in Marbella be like without all the cafés, right? It’s what we do.”
How did she manage to look sweet and stab someone in the chest at the same time? But her point was made. Tolerating cafes was part of the sacrifice. “Love it,” he replied with equal terseness.
It wasn’t that he strictly hated the cafes. It was that dressing up and lunching in cafes wasn’t something he, and his crowd, did. It was enemy territory. And her point was that if he stayed, he had to play like the locals played.
Chapter 64
SAMARA WASN’T ANSWERING her phone, which Tristan was starting to find annoying. He didn’t like this habit of hers of simply not responding when she felt uncomfortable. It wasn’t an effective way of dealing with things.
Bad things happened, and one had to just get on with it. Granted, Hassan was a particularly vicious version of bad. Rumour had it that he was on the charm offensive in Marbella. But there was no real reason for him to be here other than his ex-wife being in residence. In also made him wonder what Samara had done to make him so angry.
From what he knew about Hassan Azmer, he liked to devastate his enemies and it could be the sheer fact that Samara wasn’t utterly decimated that had him incensed. It would also mean that his relationship with Samara was particularly irksome for the man.
What remained to be seen was if Hassan made a full-on frontal attack. The Azmer versus Barensteen. A lot of people would pay attention to that fight. What he had that Azmer didn’t were deep connections with people who didn’t necessarily bow to staggering wealth, and the sheer fact that people liked him and didn’t like Hassan. Hassan bludgeoned, but finesse was a better tool, at least in the markets where he did his business.
The truth was that he would win the fight. Bloodied, but not as much as Hassan would be. The whole banking system in Europe was run by men he was in some way related to, and when they needed to, they closed ranks to a foreign intruder.
Hassan wasn’t stupid. Certainly not enough to enter such a fight for the sake of his ex-wife. Bullies only picked fights they could win, and Hassan’s reputation would take too much of a blow. The worst thing that could happen to a bully was for them to be exposed for what they really were.
Persephone really was aligning herself with the wrong team. And that would stick. People may not ever say anything, or even consciously think it, but they wouldn’t trust her. It had been a downright stupid thing to do. But then she lacked a certain level or foresight. Percy was all about the fight and she didn’t have that strategic insight to understand the broader ramifications.
For himself, though, in terms of broader ra
mifications, he could not lose control of his father’s fortune to his treacherous sister. That would also be something that would stick. There had been the possibility of an amicable solution, but Percy’s greed—it may not even have been greed, but it was something—had let that opportunity pass. Now it would be a hard slog, but he would get there in the end.
Having enough of being ignored, Tristan drove to Samara’s house. They really needed to have a talk about how things were going to develop. Things were going to get uncomfortable, and some awkward things had to be faced. It was simply the way of it.
He knew Samara was strong, but he simply wasn’t sure she knew exactly how to apply that strength, and in what context to do so. It was only fair they talk about what was coming. Perhaps he should have done so earlier. The problem was that he hadn’t foreseen Percy not taking the deal. Maybe he should have.
Samara’s housekeeper let him in, informing him that she was outside on the covered patio. Walking out, he found her lounging in a loose silk dress, looking wonderful. A gentle breeze kept the patio cool. “Tristan,” she said when she saw him. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
“You weren’t answering your phone. I was worried.”
“Oh. I must have left it upstairs,” she said lightly. “How are you?”
“Fine,” Tristan said and sat down.
“A drink, Mr. Barensteen?” one of the staff asked.
It was too early for a drink. “Soda water.”
Looking around, he looked for Samara’s drink, hoping he didn’t catch her drinking this early, but there was nothing he could see.
“Your sister decided to crash our tennis match this week. Made herself thoroughly unpleasant.”
So that was why Percy had come home looking smug the day before. Tristan sighed. “Unfortunately Persephone likes to play stupid games.”
“I’m not a fan of stupid games,” Samara said. “I’m bored of stupid games. And I am bored with people who smile to your face and stab you in the back.”
To be fair, it sounded like Percy was stabbing from the front.
“It is her attempt to rattle you. She’s like a child throwing a tantrum. I suppose it is fair to say she grows more vicious the more she’s cornered, and unfortunately Percy, as she often does, has chosen a difficult road for herself. I do love my sister, but she does have a habit of making things hard for herself. Always has.”
“I find this all very distasteful,” she said.
“It is distasteful, but fighting one’s corner always is. It still needs to be done. Or people will walk all over you, take what’s yours.”
“Are you saying your father’s estate is yours?” she replied, looking at him pointedly.
“Well, it will be. I offered to split it equitably. The offer was thrown in my face. That was how my generosity was being repaid.”
“And now you go in for the kill. For what purpose? Retribution.”
“It’s more complicated than that.”
Samara seemed disappointed with him. What did she expect? That he would walk away from his father’s fortune, that he would just dismiss the insult Percy had thrown at him? “I think perhaps you have been given too many things in your life without the need to fight for it.”
“Perhaps I’m questioning what it is you’re fighting for. You are consumed with this. Do you really wish to spend years battling your sister?”
“it’s not a question of wishing. This is necessary. I’d hoped you’d understand that.”
With a sigh, she looked away. There was an issue with Samara’s unrealistic expectations. The world wasn’t filled with butterflies and gold trinkets. There was work to create wealth, and there was work to defend it. The qualities he’d so adored about her, the honesty and the caring for the quality of a person, rather than their status, was a double-edged sword, because wealth was easy when one expected it would simply be there. That wasn’t the real world, however.
“Why don’t we go away?” Samara said. “Leave this behind.”
“I can’t. It’s sweet that you wish so, but it’s unfeasible. I am needed here. There are developments with my solicitors that I need to stay on top of.”
The answer wasn’t the one she wanted and she frowned. Again, it concerned him how unrealistic she was. He couldn’t just drop everything and go away. There was definitely a little something of the impractical about her.
Chapter 65
IT WAS NICE THAT ADELAIDE had invited her to her birthday party, Esme thought. They still didn’t know her that well. She had her own friends, so it wasn’t that she was aching for friends. They were Shania’s friends too. Who still wasn’t back from the US and Felix was going spare.
Felix had even come home for a while, which made things awkward with Inns, because Felix didn’t like him. So far, he hadn’t come to her with his brotherly advice, but compared to Darius, Inns was a better option.
Did she have bad taste in guys? Not in Inns case. He was funny and sweet, and generous, and he’d never intentionally try to mess with her head. It was just that he didn’t show that to other people. They saw the arrogant snob, but much of that was a mask. Granted, there was a bit of a snob to him, but he was a product of his upbringing.
And he loved her. People tended to overlook that fact.
Ever since the threat of Darius returning, Inns hadn’t made any moves to leave. Hadn’t even mentioned it. And for a moment, it had all just felt so good between them that she hadn’t wanted to rock the boat by mentioning it. It was that same trait that had gotten her into trouble with Darius, not wanting to do anything to mess it up when it was good.
Inns held her hand as they walked through the dark path to the beach. They’d chosen quite a remote location, but it was a party, so perhaps that would ensure they didn’t upset anyone. Or attract crashers.
They emerged onto the beach, the place lit with fires. Music played and people milled around. It wasn’t crazy busy. Maybe around thirty people. Most of them she didn’t know. Felix was there, and she saw Adelaide, which meant Quentin was around somewhere.
For a moment there was that panic in her that Darius would be there, but it was irrational. No one would invite him to this. Quentin didn’t even know him, or she didn’t think so. But her understanding was that one of these Aussie girl’s sisters was with Tae Azmer. Luckily, no sight of any Azmers.
“The lovebirds have arrived,” Aggie said, looking gorgeous in a loose olive-coloured dress. “I wasn’t sure you’d make it out of bed, you seem to for very little these days.”
Inns hated when Aggie teased them, she felt him bristle. He didn’t like being scrutinised, but he didn’t say anything. Parties weren’t really his thing either, but he was here, and he was here because he wanted to be with her. The urge to kiss him stole over her—again. She just couldn’t stop.
“Have fun,” Aggie said with a finger wiggle as she wandered off barefoot.
“I’m totally in love with you,” Esme said.
“What?” Inns said, looking over at her.
“You heard me. I am in love.”
He didn’t let go of her hand. Stepping closer to her, he kissed her. That addictive sweetness that made her lose track of everything in her head. That happened when he kissed her. There was nothing else in the world that existed except for the kiss, and the desire. She wanted him, nonstop.
“So now we have a problem. We left it too late, and now we are caught,” he said.
“You make it sound so horrible.”
“The opposite of horrible. Too sweet to escape. So now what? How do we make this work?”
“Do we have to ask? We have everything we need.” The smile melted from her lips, because the truth was that he didn’t. That was the point. There was something lacking here for him. “What do you need?”
He was silent for a while. “I don’t know. Something. I need to do something. I can’t just be with you and that’s it. That wouldn’t work. I need to do something and I have no idea what. Unfortunately it was a que
stion preceding this between us, but it’s still there. Saying that, being utterly devoid of direction, you are the anchor I have.” He kissed her again.
“So do whatever you want to do. There are opportunities here.” She knew he was struggling with trying to find the thing he wanted to spend his time doing. People were pressing him in directions he felt no passion for. She herself had been utterly directionless, and it had sucked, until she’d found her thing, her skincare line. “Until you find the right one for you, you can help me expand my business.”
“You don’t really need my help.”
“Yes, but I want your help,” she said with a smile. “Or you can start your own. Alternatively, Felix could set you up at Dunbury Industries. Working on the trading desk worked really well for him. Or Quentin, if you want to get into property development. Or really, anything you want, between us, we have contacts to do anything. Sometimes you just have to try different things to see what suits you.”
Obviously, she understood that he needed something to focus on. Another person couldn’t make up the entirety of someone’s focus. That was how you got sick relationships. If he was to have a life here with her, he needed to fill his life with things that were meaningful to him.
Hope flared deep inside her. He was considering staying here, to be with her. And she honestly wanted him to be happy, because she knew he wasn’t. He hadn’t been. She was the one who made him happy—he’d told her so. Now they just had to make it meaningful, but it wasn’t something she could do for him—he needed to find his way.
“You think,” she said and stepped closer and placed her hand on his cock. “In the meantime, I’ll think of what I’m going to do to you in the dark, away from the crowd. Maybe we should mingle a little first.”
Really, they should. They hadn’t actually made it to the party yet and she just wanted to ride him in the dunes. And it felt even more poignant now that there was real hope for them. Not just hope, she was going to do everything in her power to make it happen.
