"Come on in," I wave.
Both men step inside my penthouse.
"What happened?"
"It's a long story," I brush it off with a wave of my hand.
"Well, you better start talking."
"There isn't anything you can do," I tell him.
"Perhaps, but at least you can share."
"What difference will it bloody make?"
Terry's eyebrows climb to his forehead. “I'm at a loss here. What got you into this…" He stops, seemingly looking for the words. "This…" He pauses again. "This…" This time he purses his lips in frustration. "I don't even know what we're dealing with here. Did someone hurt you? Is it Barrett? It's him, isn't it?" Terry doesn't give me chance to answer. "I swear to God, I’ll grow balls and I’ll put my fist right between his eyes.” His face is so beet red, I fear he'll burst an artery.
"Calm down," I let out a small laugh.
“How dare he?" Terry tempers. "He's going to have to answer to me."
"You'd be willing to take him on, even knowing that he was trained as a weapon of destruction?"
"I may not be able to survive longer than a few seconds, but I would definitely take a swing at him," Terry says. He’s so passionate about this. Bless him for that.
"It's more than just Barrett. It's Octavia."
"Octavia? Well, she's easy to take down. I'll bitch slap that cunt and put her back in her place."
"It's a twisted story," I tell Terry.
"I’m no stranger to drama.”
"Barrett is fucking a porn star," I blurt out.
"What?" Derek and Terry screech in unison.
"Yeah, I was just drinking my sorrows away. Care to join me?"
"No fucking way you're drinking another drop,” Terry frowns. “As to what just flew out of your mouth. It simply doesn't make any sense whatsoever."
"Trust me, it makes more sense than you'll ever know."
"Start from the beginning," Terry orders.
"If you won't allow me to drink, let's go to the kitchen. I can at least have some tea to calm my nerves."
* * *
It takes three cups of piping hot tea for me to spill my guts. I even pulled out my iPad for show and tell. I’m amazed that I managed to recount the sordid tale of Barrett and his porn star lover without breaking down in tears. Maybe the shock is so great that I'm numb now.
"Jesus Christ," Terry says when I finish.
"And you saw the video with your own two eyes?" Derek asks.
"If it was only hearsay, I would've shrugged it off as Octavia being her jolly bitchy self, but I saw Capri and I saw Barrett. They were in the same room and they were both naked."
"My God," Derek says.
"I can't believe this," Terry says.
"Since I got back, I’ve spent every second on Google and on that woman's website. Her claim to fame is her 38P bra size—”
"I don't even know what that means," Terry interjects.
"That's huge. No doubt she's had multiple boob jobs to get there," I tell him. “She’s twenty and has no shame. Apparently, men marvel at her gag-free deepthroat blowjob skills of beefy thirteen-inch cocks. And she's up for anything. I mean anything you could ever imagine.”
“It’s porn. It’s all out there,” Terry shrugs.
“Even being fucked by a huge horse cock?”
A violent torrent of emotions swirls through me at the thought that Barrett would fuck a woman who gets paid to do that shit.
“Blimey,” Terry’s jaw drops.
“What?” Derek shouts. "She's into bestiality?"
“Sort of. Capri was the ‘spokes-pussy’,” I say with air quotes, “for this company that produces custom wearable strap-on dildos of huge horse cocks. They’re also called, equine dildos. Twenty thick inches, may I add. They even come with camera cum. Imagine that. I guess that's why her PornHub Pornstar Rank is fourteen. Some of the things I've seen on her site are incredibly disturbing and I’m no prude. The only thing that irks me is that I was unable to find that video Octavia showed me."
“Weird,” Terry says.
“I know,” I say.
"Maybe it's on a private area of her site for paying members only," Derek offers.
"You're probably right," I nod.
For a minute there, I thought I was okay, but flashing back to the video that sent my world spiraling downwards fans my embarrassment. I'm mortified.
"Wait a minute here. We’re talking about Barrett Ascott. He can have any woman he wants." Uneasiness twists my stomach at Terry’s words and as a result, my face twists in a grimace. "I'm sorry, Charlie. I don't want to hurt you, but we need to think this through. Why would Barrett stoop that low?" he asks. "Capri isn't even attractive. Other than her giant melons and enormous-strap-on-swallowing-vagina, there isn't much to her.”
"Oh, God!" I shout as dread washes over me.
"What?" Terry and Derek ask in unison.
"I need to get tested first thing tomorrow morning."
"Are you feeling ill?" Terry asks in a panic.
"Not yet, but maybe Barrett has infected me with a filthy disease. I’m sure Capri Ocean must have fucked five hundred men in the last year. What if she’s transmitted something to Barrett? What if I'm dying right now and I don't even know it? Oh, my God. That's it. My days are numbered. I'm not even thirty yet. I'm too young to die." I'm completely freaking out.
Derek places a comforting hand over mine. "Calm down, Charlie. I'm not sure what's going on with your ex, but it doesn't mean he didn't use protection—”
"Not that I want her to panic, but I think she's right. She should get tested," Terry says.
"I'm not saying she shouldn't," Derek defends. "I'm simply saying panicking isn't going to help matters. We need to approach this with a—”
"What if he kissed her? People contract disease that way too, don’t they?"
The thought of Barrett kissing that fucking porn star gives me another panic attack.
Now I’m really ready to lose my shit.
Just when I thought things were turning for us and maybe this time we could make it work, he goes and betrays me in the worst possible way.
Asshole.
CHAPTER 48
Charlie
Four months later
"Good morning," I say when I walk into the massive kitchen flooded with bright light.
My sister is sitting at the small table in a little nook in the corner, flipping through a magazine, but her eyes lift to meet mine when she hears my voice.
"Good morning, honey," Julianne says.
"I can't believe it's November and it's this sunny. I'm sure it's absolutely miserable back home."
"I hate to sound like a cliché, but they don't call it sunny Cali for nothing," Julianne laughs. "I'm still not used to so many consecutive days of sun and warm weather."
"I'd never get used to it!"
"Breakfast? Kenner went to Lafayette Bakery to fetch us a few treats before he dashed off to his golf game. They’re still warm," she tempts.
"You know it's impossible for me to resist that kind of offer."
"Yup, I know," she returns my smile. “Sit,” she waves. "I'll only be a few minutes."
"Brilliant."
Ten minutes later, Julianne and I are sitting in front of a sumptuous assortment of plain and almond croissants, jams, fruits and of course dark strong lattes.
"Bon appétit,” my sister says.
"Bon appétit,” I parrot.
We each take a generous bite of our croissants and chew animatedly while letting out a few, “Hmmms,” along the way. It doesn’t take me long to polish off my breakfast. Without missing a beat, I wash it all down with hot coffee.
"I feel human again," I say, dropping my mug on the table.
"You practically inhaled that food."
"I was starved," I defend.
"Well, it's good to see you eat."
She says that because when I got here I had lost an insane amount of weight. It took me months before I
started enjoying food again. I was too depressed to care.
"The food in the city is ridiculous," I say.
“And to think, you're going to get a full feast at the spa between your treatments."
“I can't wait. Thank you again for the little surprise," I say.
Julianne is treating me to a luxury pampering afternoon at the Vista Blue at the Monterey Plaza Hotel—one of Monterey's poshest spas.
"It's my pleasure. It will do you good," she smiles.
"It’s more like you take offense to my hairy legs,” I laugh.
“Charlie, you haven't had a wax job since you got here. I'm fairly certain it's the same for your fanny. Mother would be scandalized if she knew," Julianne says.
“Well, there’s no point in making any effort. Other than me, no one will see or touch my legs… and fanny," I remind her.
“Wash your mouth out with soapy water. There's never any excuse to forfeit personal grooming. Not to mention that on the off chance my eyes travel south, I don't want to be horrified by all that bushiness."
“You do remember that I took a vow of chastity for the rest of my natural life when I landed on American soil? I’m content being single, which means bushiness isn’t an issue. If it bothers you that much, look the other way.”
“Is that why every morning you wake up to ‘I Will Survive’ before switching to ‘Hurts’?”
“Gloria Gaynor and Emeli Sandé are my girls. They sing the words my soul cries out to speak. Those are my anthems, big sister. My armor against men."
“Those songs are driving me mad. Especially that disco one. Were Mum and Dad even born back then?"
"It's timeless. It's a classic for all the broken hearts in the world," I counter.
“Well, the baby doesn't like it," she states. "He or she keeps kicking in protest,” she lowers her eyes and places a hand on her belly.
I laugh. “You’re not that far along. I doubt your little pea is already kicking. Google told me that much.”
“Smartass.”
"You still love me. That's why you invited me to stay with you, hubby, and soon-to-be baby."
"You're not going to be in Monterey when this baby is born, Charlie," she warns.
She's been saying that since I arrived on her doorstep three months ago.
It turns out that I couldn't deal with finding out that the man I’ve loved for as long as I can remember was shagging a porn star. A few days after the big blow, I packed my things and got out of London. I sought refuge at our family’s Paris flat. After a month of moping along the streets drifting aimlessly with my heart shattered into a million pieces and crying my eyes out, Julianne ordered me to come and stay with her. She claimed that the sun would lift my spirits. I didn't fight her. I knew I couldn't get through this alone.
"I'm committed to being a great auntie."
"That's seven months away, Charlie. You need to go back to London."
"I don't have to. I'm perfectly fine right here," I say with stubborn steadfastness. "Terry is manning the office like a pro.” I've not entirely lost touch with my business. I've worked way too hard to ignore it—even in the face of a devastating scandal. I’ve been working remotely. “And who says I don't have plans to open an office here in California."
Julianne's shoulders slump. "Your life is in London."
"Your life was in London as well until you met the one," I quip.
"Charlie, you don't want to meet the one." She pauses before letting out a very long sigh. "You already have."
I shake my head vehemently. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"You’re a beautiful young woman and this town is chock-full of excessively rich men—and many are incredibly attractive. And tall. You may be walking around in shapeless oversized t-shirts and baggy jeans, but that's done little to help you pass incognito. Men keep asking Kenner about his smoking hot sister-in-law.”
I shrug and shift my eyes towards the window.
“I see the way they look at you. There's so much interest in their eyes. Yet you choose to be oblivious to it all."
"I'm just minding my own business.”
"You mean it's because none of them are—”
My gaze cuts back to her. "Don’t you dare say his name!" I shout, waving a warning finger at her.
Pain twangs with a familiar tinge of humiliation. No matter how much I try to stick my head in the sand, it doesn't seem to get any easier. It’s still as much of a bitter pill to swallow as it was when Octavia delivered her venom.
Julianne flashes me a stern side-stare. I expect her to persist, but she veers the conversation. "I was in the room at Lord Cavendish’s gala—the one he threw a few months before he was voted Prime Minister. You were fifteen and full of attitude and sass. You were also absolutely gorgeous and you weren’t even aware of it. Even back then, you turned heads—"
"Why are we—"
"Let me finish, Charlie," she snaps.
"Suit yourself." I slump against my seat and cross my arms over my chest.
"You made quite the entrance that night. It was a black and white ball, but you were the only one stylish enough to walk in the ballroom wearing a stunning monochrome black and white gown. Everyone else played it safe. You looked like you belonged on the red carpet at the Oscars or the BAFTAs. Who designed that gown again? Fendi?"
"Gucci," I correct her.
She nods. "True, it was a loaner for the night, but you were born to wear such chic clothing.” I blush. “In any case, when you spotted us, you sashayed towards Veronica and I with your equally stunning best friend Amelia in tow. We were hanging out with a group of people cracking jokes and laughing, but the second you said, ‘Hello’, everything changed. I remember when Barrett Ascott turned around and took stock of you. It's as if time had frozen in place. Every woman in that room was vying for his attention, but one look at you and it was game over for the rest of us—present company very much included.” I’m shocked by her revelation. “Even a fool and a blind man would know that he was witnessing two people falling madly in love."
"That was ages ago. Who cares?" I dismiss.
"I reckon that the man has never stopped loving you."
That's the last thing I want to hear.
"Yeah, that's why his dick was up a porn star’s ass."
She ignores my snarky remark. "After your Masters in London, you decided that you needed to expand your wings in New York. You went to Manhattan to study some more and to become an apprentice in one of the biggest firms. Barrett waited for you and he flew to you every chance he had. Then you were off to Los Angeles to build your credentials. Again, Barrett waited for you. Flying all the way to Cali was a little more challenging, but still, he made it happen. While you were gone, women threw themselves at him left, right and center, but Barrett was blind to all the attention. He waited for you. Even up and comer Eliza Hurlington made her intentions known in a not-so-subtle way—”
“Hugh Grandmont’s fiancée hit on Barrett?"
“I saw it with my own two eyes. Barrett just brushed her off. He was too busy waiting for you to even care."
“You don’t know that for a fact,” I challenge. “He could’ve been fucking up a storm in my absence.”
“Barrett, Tyler, Samuel and Simon were inseparable.” Samuel and Simon are our cousins. “They’ve confirmed more than once that Barrett wouldn’t even give a woman a second glance when they were out. Why? He was waiting for you,” she repeats. “It’s always been about you, Charlie—”
"I’ve heard enough. Where are you going with this, Julianne? Why are we walking down memory lane?” I ask impatiently.
I still ache for Barrett, but I'll be damned if I’ll allow myself to be fooled again. How long will it take me to forget him? I don't know, but I wish God would speed things up.
"Barrett has loved you since the second he laid eyes on you and I know it's very much mutual.”
“I—”
“Don't insult me by disputing that." She shuts me u
p. "I've been begging you for four months to call Barrett and listen to his side of the story. But you're so stubborn you prefer to hide here in Monterey like a fucking coward instead of getting the explanation you deserve—”
The words sting as much as a slap.
"You told me I was welcome—”
"For a few weeks. A month maybe. Not for the rest of your life."
Offended, I jump to my feet. "If that’s how you feel, I'll find a hotel or a flat and I’ll get out of your hair."
"You’re missing the point, Charlie."
"Maybe it’s because I don’t give a fuck anymore. Barrett can keep fucking his porn star for all I care. He can even have babies with the slut. I'm so over him."
Julianne pinches her lips and studies me intently. I don't avert my gaze. I know she can see right through my lies but I'm not backing down. That little shred of pride is all I have left. "Very well. Will you have dinner with Kenner and I or will you stay in town after your spa appointment?”
The abrupt change of subject and the iciness in her tone speaks volumes.
Two can play at that game.
“No, I’ll have dinner with you guys. After half a day of pampering, I’ll be as limp as a vegetable. The only thing I’ll want to do is eat, drink and crash on your comfy sofa in front of the telly.”
"I have a special dessert order at Lafayette Bakery. Can you pick it up on your way back? Just ask the taxi to make a detour."
"No problem."
"Thank you.”
“Sure.”
“Text me when you're leaving the pastry shop, so I know to expect you."
“You’re treating me like a child,” I protest.
“Just bloody text me,” she snaps.
“Whatever."
* * *
“Julianne, I'm back," I say entering my sister's home. "You won't believe what happened to me.” My hands are weighed down, so I have to close the door with my butt. “The spa had one of those scratchy type contests. Guess what? I won!" I shout as I stroll towards the kitchen. "Whatever your chef cooked smells amazing by the way," I say as I inhale the air around me. When I get to the kitchen, it's empty.
That's weird. I texted her five minutes ago and she said she was waiting for me.
You're All I Think About_Second Chance Romance Page 35
