Page 112 of Insta Bride
“How about we combine the two.” Maddox motioned to the waitress who presented two long black coffees. Pre-ordered. The man thought ahead. Anticipated my actions. I could work with that. Be predictable, await his countermove and then strike.
Fuck. What was I thinking?
Elena was my wife.
Elena was living in our home. No longer mine, but ours in every way.
Once we got the bullshit TV contract out of the way, she’d know I was in it for the long haul. Once we got rid of the cameras and the social media interest, we’d be able to honeymoon like any other newlyweds.
If she wanted to stay married.
Yep. It all came down to whether my bride had buyer’s remorse. Although, I’d spent the last two days convincing her I’d been her best investment. After the night she’d tied me up, we’d talked until dawn. Or, she’d talked and I listened. I now had a bucket list of things we’d do to wipe this asshole from her memory.
Too exhausted to go to work, we’d spent our sick day in bed, together. Showered, together.
We were building a life together, and there was nothing the guy sitting in front of me could do about it.
“Are you finished?” I downed the scalding coffee in one gulp. Ignoring the pain, determined to out-alpha the real asshole at the table.
“Not even started. Do you want another one? Or is it too early for a real drink.”
“Get to the point.”
“Easy. I love Elena. Always have and always will.” Maddox leaned back with the confidence of a man about to close the deal of the century. Not a fucking chance.
“Which is why you cheated and dumped her.” All reasons my wife had told the world she’d never date a lying, cheating asshole.
“I cheated, sure. But she dumped me. Not the other way around.”
“What did you expect?”
“Not to get caught. She was my first real girlfriend.”
“Some lucky bastards strike gold the first time.”
“I didn’t know it at the time. Sure, I loved the girl—but I didn’t know what else was out there.”
“Heaps of fool’s gold.” I should know. I’d been panning that shit for years—until Elena.
“I haven’t dated anyone for six months before she went on the island. I’d scrubbed my profile, started making inroads with the guys in her friendship group. I’d done all the right things to make sure when I started to win her back, they wouldn’t be a roadblock.”
“Six months without pussy? Bullshit.”
“Hear my words. I said I hadn’t dated anyone for six months. You should know how little one-hour randoms mean.”
“How long were the two of you broken up for?” I knew, I just needed to roll out the questions before reeling him in.
“Three years. I needed to get living out of my system.”
“You don’t think you could live with Elena?” What sort of fool had my wife fallen in love with? Every minute with her was living.
“I needed to live so I could come back and settle down.” He pushed his empty cup aside, leaning over to give me what I assumed was his genuine smile. I didn’t buy it—and I didn’t break the silence. I could outwait him.
“How much do you want the Softli account?”
“We’re the best fit. We are hungry, we have shared Directors and similar corporate cultures.” Should I play my ace, or not? “Susannah Dawson suggested we—I—bid.”
Susannah Dawson was the hottest female board director. Petite, brunette and smarter than most of the collective brains in any room she walked into. Unfortunately, she was also faithfully married to a politician who didn’t deserve her. Still, her corporate consultancy had been one of my first clients and we’d built a friendship built on trust and respect.