Duke of Manhattan

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Duke of Manhattan Page 21

by Louise Bay


  “Yeah, that’s what I want—for you to be miserable.”

  I glanced up as she rolled her eyes at me. “I’m trying to help. Just be honest with me and tell me what happened. You know what they say, a problem shared is a problem halved.”

  “You’re ridiculous. No one says that.”

  “Humor me. I’m your little sister. You know I get my own way eventually, so just give in now. It’s easier.”

  As much as I might complain, I wouldn’t have agreed to drinks tonight unless I’d really wanted to see Violet. I covered my face as my eyes began to water. “I’ve been such an idiot, Violet.” I gulped back my tears.

  The bench dipped slightly beside me as Violet sat down, wrapping me in a one-armed hug. How had I let myself have feelings for a man who was so clear about what he wanted from me—sex and a wedding ring? How had I misread the signs so badly?

  “Can we have another two rounds,” she asked a passing server. I wasn’t about to complain, alcohol couldn’t possibly make things worse.

  “I’m going to kick his fucking ass,” Violet muttered. Her sympathy burst through my wall of indifference like a wrecking ball. I still couldn’t believe after all Ryder and I had shared, he hadn’t even had the balls to give me the papers himself.

  It shouldn’t matter. I always knew divorce was the next step in our relationship. Ryder wasn’t the kind of guy to settle down. He’d told me as much over and over again. Still, for a man who’d never had an adult relationship, he was awfully good in one. So attentive and kind and … loving.

  It had felt so real.

  “What a douchebag,” Violet said under her breath. “But at least you got your company.”

  True. And I should be grateful that Cecily Fragrance was free of debt. At least my career wouldn’t collapse. There had been one good thing to come out of my divorces. The first divorce had pushed me into business, and the second had saved it. But if I’d known how much it would hurt, how high the cost to my heart would be, I never would have married Ryder.

  “I can’t believe he was so cold,” I said.

  “Well, he is British.”

  So? Ryder had never been cold with me. Darcy had been nothing but kind and friendly and their grandfather had a heart as warm as the sun. Just as my tears had slowed, a fresh batch appeared.

  “His grandfather gave me a necklace. I think it led me to hope that maybe we could work out.” The duke had hinted that even though our relationship hadn’t had a conventional start, that there was a chance of it turning into something real, just like his own marriage had. “Ryder’s grandfather really grew to love his wife—but only after they got married.”

  “And you were hoping Ryder would grow to love you, too?” Violet asked.

  I nodded. “How could I have been so naïve?”

  “Because you’d grown to love him,” Violet concluded when I didn’t say anything.

  She didn’t need my confirmation. We both knew she was right. I hugged my arms to my stomach, wanting the sharp pain to subside. When had I started to love him?

  “You’re such a good judge of character, normally,” Violet said, almost to herself.

  “How can you say that? I’m about to be divorced for the second time in two years.”

  “Well, when you put it like that. It’s just that the first guy you married was a good guy—”

  “Violet,” I groaned. “I don’t want to hear how my breakups have been all my fault.”

  “I’m not saying that at all. Hear me out. He was a good guy. You were both just too young. And Ryder? I mean I didn’t know him that well, but he seemed decent. Seeing you together at the wedding? I just don’t get why he’d just serve you with divorce papers when you had such a good thing going.”

  “He saved his company. And mine. The deal is done.”

  “Maybe,” Violet said.

  “There is no maybe. That’s how it went down.” I blotted my eyes with a cocktail napkin. I had to get it together. “I’ll be okay. It was just a shock. I’ll go back to my apartment tomorrow.” Ryder hadn’t misled me, hadn’t lied. I needed to put my big girl pants on and get the fuck over him. I picked up my drink and tipped it back.

  “I thought you were back at your place? You’re not staying at his apartment, are you?” Violet asked.

  Shit, I hadn’t meant to mention that. “No, I just stayed here in the hotel last night. I didn’t want to go home—”

  “Scarlett, why didn’t you call me?”

  “Because I don’t want to sleep on your couch.”

  “I don’t want you on my couch either. But I could have come over and had room service on you.”

  I nudged her in the ribs and she giggled, sipping her cocktail. “I mean it. I love room service. If you’re staying here tonight, count me in, sister of mine.”

  I knew she wanted to stay to keep me company, to hold me if my tears started again. But I appreciated that she covered up her concern with faux selfishness. Violet always knew just what to do. “Shall we go get in our jammies and find a cooking show to watch?” I asked.

  “Sounds like a great idea. And if he calls, I’ll answer,” Violet said. “Has he called?”

  I shook my head. “He won’t. The divorce papers said it all. And anyway, I left my cell in England, along with the key to his apartment.”

  “How will you get your stuff back?”

  I shrugged. “I was so focused on leaving him I never thought about it. I just wanted to step back through the wardrobe and for him to have been a figment of my imagination.”

  “Oh well, we’ll figure it out. I can collect your things. And knee him in the balls,” she said, making a jerking motion with her legs that wouldn’t scare a nervous Chihuahua. I didn’t like her chances where Ryder was concerned, but I liked the sentiment.

  After all, why should I be the only one hurting?

  “God, it’s so good to have you back in New York,” Cecily said as she opened the door to my office with a dramatic swoosh. “You should have said you’d be here and I would have cleared my diary this morning.”

  I shook my head. “No need. I had a ton of things to get through.” I smiled up at her as she sat on the corner of my desk.

  “We have so much to catch up on,” she said, her hands clasped as if she were holding herself together. “I just got a meeting with the beauty buyer for Saks.”

  She didn’t sound very excited. “Are you kidding?”

  She leaned across the table. “Can you believe it? I’ve been trying to hold it in all week. I wanted to wait to tell you face-to-face.” Her eyes were beaming and her smile was wide.

  “Oh, my God.” I sat back in my chair, my arms flopping on the metal. “That is amazing. Well done, you.”

  “Well done us, you mean. You were the one who told me it was possible. And the one who told me to get back to them even though they said no like four times already. If it hadn’t been for you, I would have given up.”

  I grinned up at her. “We’re a good team.”

  “We’re the best. We need to celebrate. Can you spend an evening away from that gorgeous husband of yours and sample some champagne with me?”

  I held my smile in place despite the darkness that seemed to drift over me at the mention of Ryder.

  “Sure.” My phone buzzed, reception lighting up the line, and I put it on speaker.

  “Your hot-as-hell husband is on his way to see you. Did I mention how lucky—”

  I hung up and jumped to my feet.

  “What are you so jumpy about?” Cecily asked.

  “Cecily, I don’t want to—” I couldn’t think. I looked out through the glass of my office to see Ryder coming toward me. What the hell was he doing here? Shouldn’t he be in England still?

  “I’d love a man who brought me lunch, or even one who picked up the check.” I could just make out Cecily’s muttering under the booming in my ears.

  “Fuck,” I managed to spit out as I stood, bracing myself for impact.

  Cecily na
rrowed her eyes. “What’s the matter? Did you two have an argument?”

  I didn’t have time to answer before he had his hand on the door to my office. Our eyes met through the glass, but I looked away and stared at Cecily as if she was going to be able to tell me what to do. The last thing I wanted was to add to my humiliation by having to come face-to-face with the man who had discarded me as if I were an old pair of sneakers.

  “Hello,” he said as he walked through the door. The heat of his stare burned me. Why was he here? “Cecily, please, can you leave us?” he asked.

  Jesus, he thought he owned the whole world. What an arrogant asshole.

  Cecily looked at me apologetically but slid off the desk and left us, closing the glass door behind her. I watched her go, only turning away when Ryder said, “Scarlett.”

  “Ryder,” I replied, sitting down and flicking through some papers, trying to do anything other than focus on the embarrassment cloaking me.

  “Is that all you’re going to say to me? You leave England without so much as a goodbye and ‘Ryder’s’ the best you’ve got?” He said his name in a sing-song voice as if he were a nine-year-old boy pulling his sister’s pigtails.

  “Why are you here?” I asked, looking him square in the eye. I had nothing to be embarrassed about. He was the one who’d been a jerk.

  He rubbed his thumb and forefinger over his brow as if he were confused. “Why didn’t you wait for me?” he asked. His voice had softened and I felt my shoulders drop, just a little.

  “What?” I asked.

  He tilted his head. “You didn’t even say goodbye, Scarlett. You just left.” He spoke as if he was half mad, half frustrated. Like he was the one who’d been wronged. Unbelievable.

  “Are you seriously going to pretend that you’re the wronged party here? When you didn’t have the balls to ask me for a divorce in person rather than having me served?” Shit, I hadn’t wanted to let him know that it bothered me. That it had hurt.

  He slumped in the chair opposite my desk as if I’d shot him. The same chair he used to sit in when he brought me lunch three times a week. Goddamn it. How had I let him in enough to hurt me like he had?

  “Darcy was right,” he muttered.

  I didn’t quite know what to do. He was sitting in front of me not saying anything. “I have a lot to get through this morning. Surely, anything you need to discuss, you can handle through your lawyer.” I began to scroll aimlessly through the customer research that I had open on my computer screen, doing my best to ignore his strong, hard jaw and mussed hair. I missed touching him.

  “I didn’t know that Giles had drawn up the divorce papers,” he said and my heart surged in my chest. That couldn’t possibly be true. “And I certainly didn’t know that he’d had them delivered to you.”

  I turned to him, clenching my fists under my desk. “Lawyers don’t just draft divorce papers.”

  He leaned toward me. “Honestly, Giles thought he was being helpful. I had no idea he was even thinking about drafting those papers, let alone had delivered them to you.”

  He should have known. “We were staying in the same house. In the same bed,” I replied.

  “I know. You must think I’m a total bastard.”

  I raised my eyebrows. That was an understatement.

  “But I don’t get why you would think I would. I mean, that’s not who I am and you know that,” he said, his brows drawn together. “I care too much about you to do something so callous.”

  I closed my eyes, wanting to shut out everything he was saying. I didn’t want to hear how much he cared about me. I had to focus on how getting those papers had ripped the Band-Aid off. At least the inevitable breakup hadn’t been prolonged. It hurt, but I was clear on where I stood. I refocused on my screen, keeping silent.

  “Why didn’t you say anything? How could you just walk out?”

  I slammed my palms down on my desk. “Are you freaking kidding me? How is this my fault? Your grandfather died and my services were no longer required. Fine. I took the hint. Don’t you dare turn this around to try to make me feel bad about a situation I feel bad enough about.”

  He reached across the desk, covering my hand with his, but I snatched it away.

  “You better go,” I said.

  “Scarlett, seriously, I’m sorry. But you have to believe me, I didn’t send you those papers. Divorce was the last thing I wanted.” He leaned close, reaching for me again.

  “Sure it was. You can get back to screwing anything and everything. You are officially a free man.” I jiggled my mouse, but my cursor was frozen.

  “What happens if I don’t want to be a free man? I don’t want a divorce.”

  My stomach swooped at his words. I wanted him to be telling the truth. And a huge part of me believed him. It made sense that his lawyer had sent the papers without him knowing. It fit into the picture of him that I knew.

  But having had some time apart, I understood that it was better that things finished now than wait until I fell any deeper and harder. He could never feel the way I felt about him, and he’d leave me eventually. If I ended it now, at least I had a chance to survive it.

  “I’d say it’s impossible. I’m not a good wife,” I replied.

  “You’re the best wife.” Ryder’s voice was softer now, and I wanted to sink in against his chest. Have him hold me tight.

  “I was a fake wife with you, don’t you get it? I’m not good in real relationships.” One day Ryder would realize that, and I would prefer it if our worlds weren’t entangled further when he did. I knew I wouldn’t survive losing him if we were together any longer. It was best to walk away now. I tried to swallow down the lump in my throat.

  He leaned back. “That’s just not true. I’ve never opened up to anyone other than my family the way I’ve opened up to you. You know me in a way that no one else has. Can we talk about this? About …”

  I glanced up and his brow was furrowed as if he were trying to find the right words. “About what, Ryder? There’s no point. It’s better this way. You’ll be better without me. And I’m better on my own.” I needed to go back to my life before Ryder.

  “I want to talk about us, Scarlett,” he said, his tone clipped. “I want to have a conversation about our relationship, our marriage and the fact that for the first time in my life, I’m in love with a woman. My wife, in fact.”

  In love?

  I hadn’t expected that.

  I closed my eyes, trying to shut out his words. I needed to hold on to what was left of my heart. “You can’t love me.”

  “How can you say that? We’ve shared our lives, our bodies, our everything these past months—I love you. And I think you feel the same about me.”

  “Look, I accept that you didn’t mean for the divorce papers to be sent to me at that time. But it doesn’t change anything.”

  “Surely that changes everything.”

  I wanted it to, but at the same time, I hated hurting this much. No one, not even my ex-husband, made me feel so used and thrown away. Even if it was a misunderstanding, it was proof that Ryder had the power to hurt me. I couldn’t risk him settling deeper in my heart only to rip it open when things eventually fell apart. “It changes nothing. We always knew our time was limited. It’s up now, and we need to get on with our lives.”

  “I don’t want to get on with my life without you.” He drew his brows together and ran his hands through his hair. I’d never seen him look so frustrated and out of control.

  “I’m sure you’ll do just fine. I bet by the end of the month, you won’t be able to remember my name.”

  “How can you say that? I just told you I’m in love with you. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

  It should mean everything, but I knew by now that a man loving me didn’t mean he wasn’t capable of breaking my heart. “It doesn’t mean enough. It doesn’t mean forever.”

  I couldn’t fight him much longer. I couldn’t hear how he loved me. It was too much, too painful. And I h
ad to get away—get back to a life no one had the power to destroy. I couldn’t have another man explode my happiness. I wouldn’t let it happen again.

  I stood and took the jacket off the back of my chair and slid it on. “I have a meeting.” I glanced at him as I strode toward the door. His face was drawn but still impossibly handsome. His arms hung hopelessly at his sides, his shoulders hunched. I shook my head. “See you around, Ryder,” I said, and I slipped out of the door, leaving him in my office.

  It was better like this. My heart was safe.

  Twenty-Eight

  Ryder

  “You’re a mess,” John said, glancing around my flat. I’d not been in to the office all week. Next thing I knew, John was standing in my living room under the pretense of dropping by paperwork we both knew he could have emailed.

  “The maid comes tomorrow.”

  “I don’t just mean your apartment. Look at you. You’re wearing track pants for crying out loud.”

  I glanced down. I may have gone to bed in them. Twice. I wasn’t really sure. “I was just about to go to the gym.”

  “You’re a shitty fucking liar. It looks like you slept in those clothes.” He brushed past me and into the living space. “And since when do you eat pizza and drink beer? I thought your body was a temple.”

  “What are you, my mother? Give me whatever it is you brought and fuck off.”

  He ignored me and plonked himself onto the sofa. “Where’s Scarlett?” he asked.

  I groaned. “I have no idea. At work, I presume.”

  “You presume? Aren’t you two joined at the hip?”

  “My grandfather died. She has her money. I have my company. End of story.”

  “Oh, so that’s what we’re dealing with.” John stretched his arm along the back of the big sofa, as if settling in. I glanced at the time on the oven. I wanted him gone. The Young and the Restless was about to come on and I wanted to know whether or not the woman with the blonde hair managed to escape from the woman who’d kidnapped her.

  “I don’t have time for this. Why are you here?”

  He grinned, but otherwise ignored me. “It all makes sense now, my friend. The pizza boxes. The elasticized pants. The clear aversion to showering.”

 

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