Duke of Manhattan

by Louise Bay

  Could Giles hear the pounding in my chest as well as I could? I focused in on my breathing, trying to keep calm. The last few months with Scarlett had changed me. I’d never properly known a woman, other than my sister. I may have slept with a lot of women, but I hadn’t understood how much the right one could add to my life. I’d fought so hard for so long to be independent, I’d never realized how amazing it was to share my day with someone. Being with Scarlett had been nothing like I expected. I liked her. I trusted her. I wanted to get her naked morning, noon and night. The thought that it was all going to end and she would go back to her corner of Manhattan and I would go back to fucking three different women a week hadn’t occurred to me in a while. Somewhere along the line, our situation had morphed into something I wasn’t expecting.

  “Ryder?” Giles asked, knocking me out of my mental fog.

  “Well, of course, the loans should be transferred across to Scarlett as soon as possible.” But the divorce? I enjoyed our life together. And I thought Scarlett did, too. Was divorce what she wanted?

  I’d not slept with anyone except Scarlett since we met, and instead of it making me feel hemmed in and tied down, I felt freer than I ever had. It felt as if she was on my side, shoulder to shoulder with me. We were a team, a unit … a couple. Did divorce mean we’d still date, fuck, live together? If not, I wasn’t sure I was okay with that.

  “Exactly. So I’ve left an envelope with Scarlett to take back to the US to have her lawyer review, but everything is in order, just as you agreed.”

  “Fine.” The funeral had only been yesterday. She hadn’t left my side all day. We’d been stuck together like glue for the last two weeks. And I’d been so grateful. It was only right that she have that money as soon as possible. If I’d have thought about it, I would have transferred the loans from me to Scarlett months ago.

  “You just need to sign here and here,” Giles said, pointing at a dotted line on the bottom of a page.

  I took the lid off my pen and signed. Then he presented another page. “And here for the divorce application.”

  I set my pen down. “I think I need to speak to Scarlett about this part.” Maybe divorce was inevitable, but that didn’t mean I had to accept it without a fight. I stood. “I forgot that I said I’d help Darcy with something.” I headed toward the door. I needed air—time to think. I didn’t want to discuss my divorce, or the fact I didn’t see any need for one. I liked Scarlett and the life we had together. I wasn’t ready to give that up.

  I had to speak to Scarlett and find out if she felt the same.

  “Scarlett,” I called as I took the oak stairs up to our bedroom. I’d expected to find her in the library; she seemed to gravitate toward the place on the rare occasions we weren’t together, but when I’d checked it had been empty. “Scarlett,” I called again. If she was sleeping, I’d wake her. We needed to have this conversation. I didn’t want to go back to Manhattan and have her go back to her flat. It didn’t seem right. If necessary, I’d convince her to let me redecorate her place before she moved back in. Then she’d be forced to stay a little longer and then by the time that was done, hopefully I’d be able to convince her—maybe even rent her flat out. We didn’t have to consider forever, but surely she’d give us a chance. Things had been good between us. There was no reason to walk away now.

  I opened the door to our bedroom, expecting to see her napping on the bed, but she wasn’t there. I glanced around. “Scarlett,” I called out. Was she taking a bath? I charged into the bathroom, hoping to find her covered in bubbles and staring back at me, a wicked grin on her face. But the bathroom was empty as well. Maybe she’d gone over to the stables with Darcy? I took out my phone and dialed her mobile. It rang from the other side of the room and I saw it light up on the nightstand. Shit. She took her phone everywhere with her. Where was she? I stalked over to her phone and found it sitting on a large, brown envelope. Her name had been crossed out in blue pen and in her neat handwriting she’d spelled out “Ryder.”

  My heart began to thud against my chest.

  I grabbed the envelope and turned it over in my hands. The flap opened easily and I pulled out the papers, scattering them onto the bed. The ebony type jumped out at me: Divorce, Loan Settlement. I rummaged through them and found her signature at the back, just above her name. I turned the document over. It was the loan settlement. I tossed it aside and grabbed the other document. She wouldn’t have signed the divorce papers without asking me, would she?

  I flicked through the pages of the divorce petition. All signed, as if it were just more loan documentation. As if it meant nothing to her. As if I meant nothing to her. The floorboards outside my room creaked. I gathered up the papers and stuffed them back in the envelope. Perhaps she did want to discuss what was going to happen between us. After all, even though the envelope had been addressed to me, it had been left on her nightstand, under her mobile phone.

  I quickly replaced the envelope and phone and headed toward the door to meet Scarlett as she came in.

  But when I yanked open the door, Scarlett wasn’t standing in front of me as I’d hoped. I glanced left and right, but only found Lane coming out of the summer suite.

  “Sir, can I help you with anything?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “No, sorry. I thought you were Scarlett. You haven’t seen her, have you?”

  He opened his mouth as if to speak, then stopped, frowned and finally said, “I dropped her off at Heathrow, sir.”

  Heathrow?

  My face caught fire. “Oh, yes. Of course, you did.” Heath-fucking-row?

  “Did she leave something behind? I can have it sent over by courier if needs be.”

  “No, that’s fine. I just wasn’t quite sure what time she was leaving.” I nodded and closed the door, clenching and releasing my fists, hoping the action would take away from the slice through my chest.

  She’d taken her money and left. Like all I’d ever been for her was a damn job. Had she really been faking our whole relationship this entire time?

  Jesus. I’d been played—and it hurt more than I could ever have imagined. I’d thought the death of my grandfather had been bad enough. But this? To find out the last three months had meant nothing to her. Was I really such a dreadful judge of character?

  I’d spent my life carefully limiting the number of people I cared about. Because I knew from bitter experience that it was only the people who were close to you that could hurt you. My parents had taught me that lesson early and hard.

  And Scarlett had just sent me to grad school.

  Twenty-Six

  Ryder

  “Come on, Darce! I’m going to be late.” I stood at the bottom of the stairs, ready to go into London to meet the shareholders of a potential new investee company. Darcy was meeting old school friends. I really didn’t want to spend nearly two hours in a car with her, but I’d not left my room after Scarlett’s disappearance, which meant Darcy would have eaten alone. I was a selfish prick, but I just couldn’t bring myself to explain Scarlett’s absence. It showed an embarrassing lack of judgment on my behalf. I’d always prided myself on being able to pick out people I trusted and people I didn’t.

  I clearly wasn’t as tuned in as I thought I was.

  “I’m coming,” she shouted back, the slam of her bedroom door echoing over the landing.

  She appeared at the top of the stairs with a frown. “Where’s Scarlett?” I rolled my eyes. She thought I hadn’t gone to dinner because Scarlett and I were too busy fucking. How wrong she was.

  “Come on,” I said, ignoring her. The gravel crunched beneath my shoes—something I missed when in Manhattan. The feel of the stones under my feet meant I was home.

  “You’re mighty moody today, Ryder. If Scarlett doesn’t want to chaperone you to London, it’s not my fault.”

  I climbed into the back of the Bentley, slamming the door before Lane could do it for me.

  I pulled down the armrest between us and opened my laptop. I’d h
ave to spend the journey working or at least pretending to work. The last thing I wanted to do was talk about Scarlett.

  Darcy and Lane exchanged words outside the car, then the opposite door opened and Darcy got in without a word. She fastened her seatbelt and began to mess with her phone. Good. Silence was what I needed.

  I began to scan through emails that had come in overnight. Despite being across the pond for over two weeks, things seemed to be running smoothly. John was handling anything that required face-to-face meetings. I occasionally joined by video conference but other than that, it was business as usual. I knew my grandfather would hate to think he’d pulled my focus from the Westbury Group, so I’d made sure I’d kept on top of things.

  “What did you do?” Darcy asked from next to me.

  Assuming she was talking to her phone, I ignored her.

  “Ryder. What happened with Scarlett?”

  Fuck. I did not want to discuss this.

  I glanced up to see that Lane had brought up the privacy screen. Had Darcy asked him to? Was that what they’d been muttering about before Darcy got into the car?

  “I’m busy, Darcy.”

  I knew I wasn’t going to be able to shut her down, but it was worth a shot.

  “Lane said Scarlett flew back to New York yesterday.”

  I shrugged. “What’s your point?” I asked, keeping my eyes fixed on my laptop screen.

  “What did you do to make her run?”

  Right. Typical of my sister to assume I’d done something. I wasn’t the bad guy in this situation. I was the goddamn victim. I’d opened myself up to a woman and where had it got me? Used and thrown out.

  “I don’t have time for an argument, Darcy. I didn’t do anything. The estate has passed. She got her money. We’re done. It’s as simple as that.”

  Christ, everything about her departure had been so calculated. I’d thought that she’d become friends with Darcy but she’d clearly not even said goodbye to her.

  “You sent her away?” Darcy asked.

  “No. If you must know, she didn’t tell me she was leaving. Giles gave her the papers and the next thing I knew, she’d gone.”

  Silence. Of course, now that I wanted Darcy to say something, to condemn the woman who had abandoned me, my sister had nothing to say.

  “She just left? She didn’t say anything to you?”

  “Not a word. Went upstairs to find her to …” Tell her I thought we had something. Ask her if she wanted things between us to continue. God, I’d been such an idiot. “And she’d cleared out. Signed the papers and got the first plane out.”

  “You sound pissed off.” Darcy’s tone had mellowed. Surely she and I were on the same side?

  “I am pissed off. She could have at least said goodbye.”

  I glanced across and Darcy was staring right ahead of her, her mouth twisted. “I thought … I mean, I know it was an arrangement and everything, but you seemed to get on really well.”

  I let out an incredulous huff.

  “And I thought it was, you know, physical between you two.”

  I scraped my hand through my hair. “It was … and maybe more.” She’d been my partner, my confidante, my friend as well as my lover. Nothing from my side had been faked. “For me, at least.”

  “Did she just say she wasn’t interested in things going any further after Grandfather’s death?”

  “We didn’t even discuss it. I was going to ask her whether she wanted to keep seeing each other but—”

  “You never discussed it?” Darcy asked.

  “I didn’t have a chance. She just left as soon as she signed the loan documentation, which transferred the loans to her business to her.”

  “But you said that she signed the papers. Surely you said something when you handed those over?”

  “Giles gave them to her.”

  “What?” Darcy shouted.

  “He’s going through all the paperwork. I went to talk to her about it and she’d gone.” Why the fuck was my sister pissed at me?

  “Jesus Christ, you’re an idiot.”

  I slammed my laptop lid down. “I know. I shouldn’t have trusted her, but she fulfilled her end of the bargain. Those loans had to be transferred.”

  “Oh my God. I can’t believe we’re related. Are you really that stupid?” She twisted so she was sitting sideways in her seat, facing me.

  “Darcy, if you’re just going to insult me, I have no real interest in continuing this conversation.”

  “For some unknown reason, Scarlett liked you. It was obvious how much she cared about you to anyone who bothered to look.”

  I’d thought so, too. But Darcy was ignoring the facts. Scarlett had left.

  “She came with you when Grandfather died. She didn’t have to. She had plenty of excuses to stay in America. And given the smile you’ve worn since you met her, I think you liked her too.”

  “You’re forgetting an important detail,” I said.

  “Oh? Like how you’re forgetting that Scarlett, who’s been your wife in every sense of the word for months, got served with divorce papers by some stranger without so much as a thank you from her ungrateful shit of a husband?”

  “I told you—I didn’t know! Giles took care of it.”

  “How would she know that?”

  I paused for a second, trying to work through the implications of what Darcy was saying.

  “Have you been hit on the head or something? Scarlett was probably devastated.”

  Devastated? Darcy shook her head. “She thought she was building this great relationship with a man and then the first chance he gets, he ends it and doesn’t even have the decency to do it to her face.”

  “But I didn’t end it. I don’t even want to end it.”

  “How would she know that? All she knows was that she was in England, supporting you, and the second Grandfather was buried, got handed her marching papers.”

  I let Darcy’s words sink in. Had Scarlett run away because she hadn’t gotten what she wanted, rather than because she had? My sister never had a problem telling me if she thought I’d behaved insensitively or I hadn’t taken her feelings into account. “Why wouldn’t she say something? Why would she sign them? She just ran off.”

  “Because she’s humiliated.” Darcy sounded exasperated.

  Perhaps Scarlett had fled because she’d been hurt—abandoned me only because she’d thought I’d given up on her. “You think maybe she didn’t want the divorce?” I held my breath; was there still a chance for us?

  “If you insist on being so bloody obtuse then I really can’t continue this conversation. For the first time in your life, you have a shot at a real relationship. With a woman you like and trust. Frankly, you don’t deserve her if you’re not going to give her the benefit of the doubt, and realize how much she’s hurting.”

  “Hurting?” All my thoughts were competing in my head. Could Darcy be right?

  “Well, aren’t you?” Darcy asked.

  Every part of me hurt. I didn’t work properly without Scarlett. She made me into a better man, into a man who could make connections with people, care about people—love. “I miss her.”

  Darcy snorted. “Exactly. When have you ever said that about a woman? And you just threw it all away.”

  “Is it too late?” I asked, my body tensed in panic.

  “I have no idea. But if she means something to you, I suggest you leg it back to New York and beg her forgiveness.”

  Before Darcy had finished her sentence, I’d hit the button to take down the screen between us and Lane. “We need to turn around. I need to get to Manhattan.”

  “That’s some diversion, sir,” Lane replied.

  Except it wasn’t a diversion. I hoped it would be the route to my future.

  Twenty-Seven

  Scarlett

  “So, just like that, you’re divorced?” Violet asked, leaning over the table at the Hotel Gansevoort in the meatpacking district. I counted the black and white tiles over Viol
et’s shoulder, from our table to the door. I didn’t want to think about what had happened. In fact, I just wanted to forget the whole thing. The sooner everything became official, the better.

  “The paperwork still has to go through.” Sadly, I already understood the legal process of divorce. It wouldn’t take long, but it didn’t happen overnight. My second divorce and I wasn’t even thirty. If my first ex-husband hadn’t made me feel so worthless and boring, I probably wouldn’t even have a second ex-husband. I’d wanted it to be an adventure. Instead it had been a disaster.

  “And he didn’t mention it?” she asked.

  “No, but like I said, our deal was done. The estate passed and I was no longer useful.”

  Violet shook her head. “That just doesn’t seem right. You seemed so happy together in England. The way you looked at each other and touched one another, it was like you were a real couple.”

  I’d much rather be drunk than having this conversation. The kinda drunk where I couldn’t remember my own name. I picked up my cocktail and took two huge gulps.

  “Is it nice to be back in your apartment at least?”

  I nodded, avoiding Violet’s gaze. “Sure.” I hadn’t been back to my apartment since I landed yesterday. I couldn’t face it—it was the ultimate reminder that Ryder and I weren’t together. I couldn’t be home alone. If I could have moved out of New York, I would have. This city seemed to be at the core of my unhappiness. I’d relocated here to prove to my ex that I didn’t need to have the next forty years of my life planned out. I’d come back here, now things were over with Ryder. This place represented my failures.

  “I’m worried about you. I know you liked this guy, so why are you pretending that it’s no big deal that you broke up?” Violet asked.

  I sighed and sat back on the leather bench. “What’s the alternative? I’m sick of being miserable. Crying isn’t going to make me happy.”

  “So, you admit you’re upset?”

  “Is that what you want to hear? You want me to wallow in how awful my life is?” Was my sister trying to torture me?