by Jess Bentley
Harper
Five days in London with Jayson have been wonderful, just what I needed to shake off most of my lingering grief. I’ll always think of our child with sadness and longing, but it now seems possible to move forward and be happy again. While wandering the sites of London, including Kew Gardens, I come to the tentative decision that I want to move forward with Jayson.
We celebrate our homecoming with glasses of wine by the fireplace, though it’s too warm for a fire, followed by a night in bed. When I wake the next morning, Jayson’s already left, but he did warn me the night before that he had an early meeting.
I stretch, working out all the kinks from the previous night. A hot shower leaves me refreshed, and I pad downstairs in my bare feet after dressing casually in a dress of soft material. The maid brings breakfast in the dining room, and I finish every bite. My appetite has returned in London, burning through curries during the day and finer restaurant fare at night. I could go for another round of greasy fish and chips, wrapped in the stereotypical newspaper, after having it several times at the stand just blocks from the hotel.
I go to the study, turning on the computer to check my email, which I’ve been neglecting. Most is spam, but happily there’s a long email from Sophie. She seems to be settling in happily and is about to pledge to a sorority.
With a smile, I prop my feet on the desk and continue sorting through the correspondence. I respond to an email from the advisor at City College, inviting me to register online. I’ve already decided to enroll there, due to the proximity to our apartment. It’s silly to go halfway across the city for another college, with an equally good program, when I can walk to City College. I know registering there is another little step to committing myself to remaining with Jayson, but I’ve been feeling fewer doubts than ever.
Afterward, I turn my attention to the pile of mail stacked in the basket on the desk. Most of the envelopes are addressed to Jayson, or Satyros Corporation. There are a few invitations from people in our social circle, and I set those aside to discuss attending with Jayson. A few letters from various charities thank me for my “dedicated service.” I’m even gladder that someone else is doing that work for me.
The last envelope is thickly padded, with my name printed in neat block letters. I use the letter opener to slice open the flap and extract a stack of papers. In shock, I read through them, finding several emails addressed to my husband from Maia. All are extremely intimate, if not pornographic, and all of them speak of when they would be together again. Soon, apparently.
Searching for a hint of who sent the envelope, there’s nothing besides a postmark from New York. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out it’s Maia. My stomach clenches with the realization that she has to be in New York.
For a moment, I sit in the chair, paralyzed with anger. How dare Maia come here? Jayson and I are on the cusp of a real marriage. That bitch will only be trouble.
My anger grows with the realization Jayson hasn’t bothered to inform me of the emails. If they’re unwanted, why hasn’t he told me? It’s just next to lying, and I refuse to put up with more lies.
Spurred into action, I stuff the pages back into the envelope and carry it upstairs with me. I put on a skirt and a nice blouse, not wanting to look out of place at the Satyros Corporation’s headquarters. The sensible approach would be to wait until Jayson comes home this evening to have a discussion, but frankly I can’t wait that long.
I take the limousine, deciding I’m too angry to focus on driving myself, and the last thing I want to do is wait for a taxi. The driver negotiates through the heavy traffic, finally reaching the building shortly before lunchtime.
He parks in the parking garage, and I tell him no when he wants to accompany me. I’ve got no need for his protection in the safety of the Satyros Corporation.
A fuchsia Lamborghini, with a plate from a national car rental agency, catches my attention as I near the elevator. It bothers me, though I can’t pinpoint why until I step into the elevator and press the button to the top floor. It’s such a flashy, sexy car and seems like the kind Maia would rent. Is she already here? Has she been in New York for a while? Is Jayson keeping her a secret until he knows if I’m staying? It’s not just the sudden stop of the elevator that makes my stomach turn when I reach the top floor.
Trying to look confident, I stride to the reception desk. I haven’t needed to deal with security before now, because the driver has the code to the employee parking garage. What if the receptionist refuses to let me see Jayson? What can I do, besides cause a scene and hope he hears?
The blonde has silvery hair, high cheekbones, and bright green eyes. She’s svelte and makes the perfect ornament for Jayson’s inner sanctum. Has he slept with this woman, too?
The friendly smile she gives me changes her demeanor from one of an ice princess to a normal person. “Hello, Mrs. Satyros.”
I blink. I haven’t been to the building in years, since before this woman had started working here. “Do I know you?” Had we met at a company function, and I’ve forgotten?
The blonde shakes her head with a smile. “No, ma’am. I recognized you from the pictures in Mr. Satyros’s office.”
“Oh.” I don’t know how to respond to that. He keeps pictures of me? Why? I glance at her name plate and ask, “May I pop in for a moment, Kelly?”
She frowns slightly. “He’s with someone, Mrs. Satyros.”
Her tone sets the hairs on my neck upright. “Who?”
The other woman hesitates, which speaks volumes. I don’t wait for her reply. I ignore Kelly calling after me as I turn and walk toward Jayson’s office. With more force than I intend, I twist the knob and push, slamming the door against the wall. Family pictures of Jayson, Sophie, and me catch my attention momentarily. Focusing my gaze on Jayson, I’m unsurprised to find Maia standing beside him. The other woman leans against him, her lips near enough his that they could’ve been kissing just a millisecond earlier.
Jayson looks up, going pale. Maia turns toward me, smirking with satisfaction as she trails a finger down his chest. My husband’s chest.
“You whore.” I toss the envelope full of emails in their direction. “That is my husband you’re pawing.”
“Not for long,” coos Maia.
“Maia.” Jayson sounds angry. No doubt he is — angry that I’ve caught him with his mistress.
“I agree,” I say with surprising calm. I turn to Jayson. “I don’t know what you’re doing, Jayson, and I really don’t care. If this is about the stock, you can keep it. You can have everything, including the settlement stipulated in the marriage contract.”
“Harper…” He finally steps away from Maia, reaching toward me.
I jerk away, hissing vehemently, “Don’t touch me. I don’t want your filthy, lying, cheating hands on me.” Turning on my heel, I almost collide with a shocked Kelly, but sidestep her at the last moment. “Excuse me,” I say with ridiculous politeness and walk around the other woman.
“Wait, Harper,” Jayson shouts behind me. I speed up, in no mood to face him right now. Tears threaten to spill from my eyes, and the sodden lump in my throat won’t allow me to talk, anyway. I refuse to cry in front of him. He’s seen enough of tears. He’s caused enough of them, too.
And I’ve wasted too many on him.
I reach the elevator with Jayson still following. I stab the “Close” button repeatedly, and it shuts before he makes it to the door. The ride down seems to take forever, and I rush out as soon as the doors open. Running, I make it to the limousine and climb inside before the driver even realizes I’m back. “Drive,” I say breathlessly.
“Where, Mrs. Satyros?”
“Anywhere,” I snap. “Except Jayson’s apartment,” I add through gritted teeth. On edge, I survey the garage, relieved to find no trace of Jayson as we exit the parking garage and join the flow of traffic. Once safely away from Satyros Corporation, I put up the privacy panel and have a good cry. As I wipe my eyes, I vow it’ll be
the last time I cry over Jayson Satyros.
At my command, the chauffeur drives me aimlessly through the city for several hours, before I finally face the reality that I have to return to the apartment for my things. A confrontation with Jayson is likely inevitable. As we pull into the parking garage, I take a deep breath, bracing myself. With determination, I go to the elevator and ride it to the penthouse, refusing to carry on or betray any emotions to Jayson. I’ll handle this calmly, maturely, and with distant politeness.
I’ve learned that well with him.
My heart thuds in my ears when I open the door with my key, but I am pleased to see a composed young woman staring back at me when I look at myself in the mirror hanging on the wall near the entrance.
No sense in delaying the inevitable. Emotions firmly in check, I walk through the house, heading toward the study. I enter with a light knock, finding Jayson at his desk, as I had expected.
I didn’t expect him to look so disheveled. A half-empty decanter sits on the desk near his crystal glass, and he looks like he’s had a few. Perhaps he’s been bracing himself too. It must be difficult to tell your wife you want a divorce so you can marry your mistress — especially when ten percent of your company is at stake.
“Where have you been?” he asks in a slurred voice.
I blink at the realization he’s drunk. I’ve never seen him drink too much. Other than when I miscarried, I never saw Jayson appear less than fully in control of everything. “Out.”
“‘Out,’” he mocks, tossing back the rest of the liquid in his glass.
“I was thinking.”
Jayson slams the glass onto the desk. “You have no idea how relieved I am to hear you’re capable of thinking, agape mou.” The endearment sounds more like an attack. “I’ve seen scarce little evidence in the time we’ve been married.”
Anger stirs in my stomach, but I force it away. “We should talk.”
“Damn well right.” Jayson starts to stand, knocking his hand against the opened decanter and sloshing the alcohol everywhere. He collapses back into the chair.
With a deep breath, I say, “I meant what I said earlier. I don’t want anything from you. The stock in your company was never mine, even if I inherited it from my father.” I look down, thinking of him. “If you had just asked me not to sell the shares until the company could afford to buy them back, I wouldn’t have. There was no need to force us both into a marriage just to maintain control of the corporation.”
He glares at me. “I don’t know how many other ways to say this: I did not marry you for those damn shares. I married you for Sophie, and I am trying to stay married to you because — ” Jayson trails off, running a hand through his hair roughly. “Sit down.” He gestures to the chair across from his desk.
I want to refuse, but decide not to with his mood so volatile. As I perch on the edge of the chair, I’m eerily reminded of the night when I sat here more than three years ago, when Jayson first suggested the preposterous idea of us marrying.
“Here.” Jayson lifts a stack of papers from a drawer and slides them across to me.
“What’s this?”
“Read it.”
I scan the first few paragraphs, eyes widening as the words sink in. “What…”
“And this.” With a flourish, he produces another stack of paper and feeds it into the shredder.
“What’s that?”
“The damned marriage contract. The gesture is mostly symbolic, I suppose, but I want to make the point.”
“Which is?”
Jayson drops into his chair. “That there’s nothing binding you to me. No legal agreement keeping us together. There is no requirement for you to stay.”
I flinch at his words as my gaze drops to the papers. More confused than ever, I say, “If you don’t want to stay married, why are you giving back my shares?”
Jayson looks at me through bloodshot eyes. “I want to stay married, Harper, but I don’t want to have trapped you. I got you pregnant with the intention of making you stay married to me.”
I gasp. “That’s not true.”
He nods, looking miserable. “It is. The night you made that offhanded comment at the party, the idea took hold. I knew if I could get you pregnant, you’d have to stay with me. I deliberately didn’t use protection whenever you were too…excited to notice.” His shoulders droop. “I had no idea that I would give you a baby that wouldn’t live.”
I reach out automatically, but draw my hand back. “I hope you aren’t blaming yourself for the miscarriage. We’ll never know why he didn’t live, but it could have been a genetic mistake contributed by either one of us, or my body might have failed him.”
He swallows but doesn’t reply.
Once more, I look down at the papers. “I really don’t want ten percent of your company, Jayson.”
He snorts. “I guess it’s a good thing I gave you one hundred percent then.”
I blink, scanning the pages more thoroughly. “What? This is crazy.”
A harsh laugh explodes from him. “That’s what the attorneys said — especially when I insisted they draw up all the necessary paperwork within hours.”
“Why are you doing this?”
Jayson seems defeated, and the lack of spark in his gaze is alarming. “It’s all I can think of to prove to you that I want you as my wife because I love you, not because of that damned company.”
I jerk in surprise. “What did you say?”
He sighs. “I want you to stay with me, but only because you want to. I love you, Harper. I tried trapping you and forcing you to stay, thinking having you even under duress was better than a life without you.” Jayson’s lips press together. “I still think that, but I have no right to keep you. I have behaved like an idiot, a boor, and the only way I can make up for it is to offer you your freedom.” He leans forward, bringing his hand near mine. “With the caveat that I want you to stay, with all my heart.”
I can’t believe what he’s saying. “How can you love me? I’m not the kind of woman who should be your wife.” My calm façade slips, making my voice crack. “And there’s Maia. If you love me, how can you still be with her?”
Jayson swears. “For an intelligent woman, you can be an idiot sometimes, agape mou.”
I gasp, but he continues before I can think of something to say to that.
“I am not with Maia. I haven’t been in years, and I don’t want to be now. She’s done everything in her power to make you think we’re together, because she wants you out of the picture.” He laughs harshly. “The idiot actually thinks I could ever love someone else if you left me.”
I bite my lip, wanting to believe him, but unable to let my defenses down to trust. “What has she done?”
“She sent you those emails, for one.” He lifts a finger, as though counting off her deeds. “Speaking of, perhaps you noticed there wasn’t one reply from me in the pile? I ignored her. I should have responded bluntly, telling her I do not want her, but I didn’t know how to deal with it.” He shrugs. “You have had me so tangled inside that I couldn’t think logically about anything.”
“What else?”
“She tricked my assistant into giving her information about us, including about the miscarriage. He thought she was a friend of the family in Greece. Marco thought it was sweet that she called to discreetly check on us, because she didn’t want to intrude at such a private time.” Jayson rolls his eyes.
A sinking feeling hits my stomach, and I force myself to ask, “When we got married, was Satyros Corporation in trouble, capital-wise?”
Jayson frowns. “No. There were some financial difficulties years before I ever had anything to do with the company, but Dmitri had straightened it all out by the time he died.” His brows knit together. “Why?”
“I really am an idiot.” I close my eyes, unable to bear to look at him. How could I have believed Maia without even asking Jayson?
“What? Why?”
Haltingly, I relay the conve
rsation I had with Maia. “She had all the paperwork pertaining to the stocks.” I run a hand through my hair. “She just sounded so believable.”
He curses again, but this time his anger seems to be directed at Maia. “She is a scheming, conniving piece of work, Harper. Only one thing motivates Maia, and that is self-interest. I was too young to realize it when we were engaged, but maturity brings perspective and wisdom. At least some of the time. I got over her a long time ago, even before I married you. I would not take her back under any circumstances.”
I can’t doubt the sincerity in his tone, or the genuine emotion in his eyes. I’m numb with shock at my own stupidity. Why had I been so quick to believe Maia, having already figured out what kind of woman she was?
The answer takes my breath away as it comes to me. I’d been so quick to believe Maia because I couldn’t understand why Jayson wanted to continue to be married to me. It seemed beyond belief that he would want me. In her disbelief, I managed to find all sorts of signs and clues pointing to his ulterior motives. Still, I do have reason not to trust him….
“Why didn’t you tell me about my father’s stock, and that I had inherited it?”
Jayson pauses, seeming to be looking for an answer. Finally, he says, “I would like to say it was something incredibly romantic — like my need to have you as my wife at all costs — that kept me from telling you. The truth is I didn’t love you when we got married. I barely knew you. As for the stock, I really didn’t think about it until we were about to be married. Sophie was so excited about the marriage and living with both of us. I was afraid of the setback to her recovery if you changed your mind.”
I nod, knowing he’s right about that. After telling Sophie of the forthcoming marriage, along with the white lie of leading her to believe we’d been dating for a while, she’d seemed reenergized and determined to get out of the hospital before the ceremony. “You might not believe it, but I would have gone through with the marriage, even if you had told me about the shares at the last minute.”
