“Family life is an investment. You put a whole lot of time and effort and money into it, and I’m not just talking about the children, but also into your marriage. Without your marriage, there is no family.”
“Family is what you make it,” I shot back. “Should I be unhappy? It’s not like the boys are little anymore. They’re barely at home now anyway and will be there less and less when they’re off at university. How much difference will it make?”
“I think you’d be surprised. Are you unhappy with Jack? I’ve never heard you complain of anything but the lack of sex.”
“There is that, and the fact that we’re so distant from each other, but you’re right. There are some good things there too. We’ve just hit a wall.”
“Everyone hits a wall. What you do about it is entirely in your hands. Does Jack know?”
“No, I don’t think so. He’s not very observant, and he doesn’t listen to gossip.”
“Have you talked to him about your sex life?”
“I’ve tried, but he shuts me down. He doesn’t want to acknowledge there’s a problem.”
“Could he be having an affair?”
“No. I’d know about it. He’s too absent-minded to get away with it. I really think that he’s just not that interested in sex.”
“Do you still love him? Underneath it all, do you still like him as a person?”
I had to think about that one. I hesitated before answering. “Yes, I think so, but I have no idea what to do. I love Jack, but I think I might love Anders too. With Jack, I know what’s missing, and I’m not sure it can be fixed without both of us really trying, and I don’t think he’d be willing to acknowledge there is even a problem, let alone do anything about it. With Anders, anything is still possible because what we have is incomplete. We lack that everyday thing, the familiarity with each other. He might have annoying habits, but I don’t know of any.”
“So, Anders looks good because, at this stage, he could still be the perfect man.”
“Yes, but the unknown is also scary. What if I give everything up for him and it doesn’t work out? I would lose my husband, my work, everything.”
“If we were in one of those trippy feel-good movies, I’d urge you to trust your instincts, take a leap of faith.” She rolled her eyes.
“But we’re not,” I said doubtfully, wondering where she was going.
“No, that’s just stupid. Real life doesn’t work like that. You take a leap, and then you land on your face and everyone laughs at you. It’s called comedy.” She opened her arms. “Come here. Let me give you a hug.”
I put my head on her shoulder and breathed out heavily as her arms settled down around me.
“Stay with Jack. I’ll put out for you.”
I laughed despite myself when she gave me a kiss on the forehead.
“You’re a good friend. I know you’re right, but the problem is how to give up Anders when I really don’t want to.”
“Be sensible. I know you have it in you. You can’t give up everything you’ve spent years building on the off-chance it might work with this guy. If not for Jack and your kids, do it for yourself. You’ve just got everything taking off with your cookbooks and other ventures. Don’t throw it away on something as risky as this.”
They were wise words, and I knew what I had to do. I just really, really didn’t want to. I was like a pack-a-day smoker who was going to go cold-turkey with no nicotine patches to help me through it. I would just see him one last time. I couldn’t tell him over the phone. I was so nervous; I was shaking as I dialed his number.
“Hello?” he answered sleepily. God, in my anxiety I’d forgotten to check the time difference.
“I’m so sorry to wake you Anders. It’s Kate.”
“Katie!” he exclaimed, obviously not expecting me to call.
“I need to see you. Are you coming this way anytime soon?”
“Ah…no, but you sound upset. Is anything wrong?”
“I need to talk to you, face to face.”
“We’re not shooting this Friday. I could take the red-eye Thursday night and be there Friday morning. I’ll have to leave again Saturday morning.”
I nodded and then realized he couldn’t see that.
“That would be great. How about I meet you at the Mayfair?” It seemed fitting to end it where it had begun.
“Sure. How long can you stay? Shall I book the suite or just a room?”
“No, let me. I’ll arrange it all. It’s the least I can do after making you fly all the way here. See you Friday morning.” I hung up before he could say anything else.
Chapter Seventeen
I WAITED NERVOUSLY ON THE COUCH for the sound of his key swiping the door. He finally opened it, and I fought not to run to him. He shrugged off his overnight bag and let it drop on the floor. He looked a bit puzzled and concerned as he saw me sitting on the couch.
“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” He came and sat beside me.
“I’m so sorry, Anders,” I said, trying not to cry.
“What?”
“I can’t see you anymore.”
“You’re breaking up with me?” His voice rose, sounding strangled.
“The rumors are out there, and sooner or later Jack is going to find out. I love you, but I can’t give up everything—my family, my career, my home. What if we don’t work out?”
“We both want to be with each other. Why wouldn’t it work?” he insisted.
“We’re not risking the same things here. If our relationship doesn’t work, you just walk away. I will have lost everything.”
“I’ll have lost you.” He trailed his fingers down my face to catch the tears I hadn’t even noticed I’d shed. “Fuck,” he swore, “I love you, but I’m not going to force anyone to be with me. If you want to leave, then fine.” His voice broke, and he shook his head, his eyes hard and glassy. My heart broke to see him so upset and know that I caused it. Before I knew it, I was holding him in my arms, both of us crying uncontrollably. Then we started kissing. I tried to break away, but he pulled me back.
“No, if this is goodbye, I need to fuck you one last time. You owe me that,” he said harshly before crashing his mouth and body into mine, pinning me back down on the couch.
My body strained into his, just as eager for the contact. I had no idea how I was going to survive without this, without him. We tore at each other’s clothes, fumbling to remove the barriers between us, the desperate knowledge that this would be the last time, making it bittersweet. He pulled me onto his lap, slamming me down hard, piercing me until we were connected as completely as a man and a woman can be. I expected him to take me roughly, but instead he held me tightly, breathing hard into my neck, not moving at all. Puzzled I waited, but he stayed completely still, one arm around my hips, the other straight up my back with his fingers gripping my hair.
“Anders, are you okay?” I whispered.
“No,” he gasped. “Just give me a moment.” His body shuddered, and his cock jerked inside me. After long moments of just holding me with his whole body, he began to move gently, almost unwillingly. When we came together eventually, it was sad, beautiful, and an end in more ways than one.
I kissed him chastely goodbye as he held the door open, and he pulled me back against his chest to kiss me desperately, holding me tightly against him.
“Stay, Katie,” he ground out. “We could make it work; I know it. Just think about it for a week or so. I will wait for you, however long you need, if you just give me hope.”
I nodded, knowing I would do nothing but think about it and second-guess my decision. I smiled weakly at him, trying not to cry at the thought of him with someone else. I trailed my fingers along his chest as I moved away, keeping contact as long as possible. My smile faded as I looked down the corridor at a group of suited men who had obviously left a meeting in another suite.
I froze as one of them detached himself from the group to stare at me with hard, mocking, and all too familiar eye
s. Crispin approached me slowly, his smile widening into a predatory grin. I glanced back to see Anders still standing in the doorway, a worried expression on his face as he watched Crispin approach.
“Go!” I mouthed silently to him. He looked like he would argue for a moment, but, mercifully, he shut the door.
Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion as my life as I knew it was sucked into a black hole of my own creation. There was no mistaking what Crispin had seen. I couldn’t lie my way out of this, even if I wanted to. A small part of me was stupidly glad, relieved that the issue was going to be decided finally, but the larger part was devastated and bracing for the painful events about to create a wreckage of our home.
“Well, hello there, Kate!” he drawled and started to circle me. “Tell me that wasn’t what I thought it was.”
“No, it was exactly that.” There was little point in denying it.
“Does Jack know?” he asked with a wide grin.
“Of course not,” I said shortly, trying to keep track of him as he moved around.
“Well, I’m not going to keep your filthy little secret,” he breathed too close to my ear. “Unless…”
“Unless what?” I wasn’t hoping for anything, not from Crispin.
“Hmm…Turns out you are a dirty little slut, and that’s something that appeals to me. You know, I had a bet years ago that I’d do you. Better late than never…” He laughed and I flinched. “I’ll call you,” he said in a mocking voice while waggling his fingers to mime a phone. Then he walked off, chuckling to himself.
That was Crispin to a T and why I had despised him since a hunting weekend at Clouston Hall, shortly after Jack and I had become engaged. Everyone was drinking a lot on the Saturday night, me included. We were still sitting at the dining table, drinking red wine. The conversation had turned a bit bawdy, everyone talking about their sexual fantasies.
“So, what’s yours Katie?” someone had asked.
“A pool of melted chocolate and a sexy man to take a dip in it with me,” I’d said, making it up on the spot. Crispin was next.
“I’d like to tie someone up and have them any way I like,” he’d said, grinning darkly.
“That’s definitely in the BDSM spectrum!” I’d laughed at him, in my inebriation, making a mental connection I should never have voiced out loud. “You must have some serious mummy issues.” Everyone had laughed, seeing as it was actually true. Crispin had just glowered, and the conversation had moved on. I’d thought nothing more of it.
Jack had gone up to bed, and I’d stayed up talking to Bats and Rupert. Everyone else had drifted off, and I’d been last to leave, turning the lights off as I went. I’d been walking along the underground corridor that connected the kitchen to the north wing where our bedrooms were located when I was grabbed from behind. One hand covered my mouth, and the other arm clenched painfully around my waist. The unmistakably male body had forced me up against the wall, the skin of my cheek being grazed by the rough surface.
“You laugh at me, but I know you want it.” Crispin had ground his hips against my buttocks. “I will fuck you hard until you scream for more.”
I’d bitten his hand as hard as I could, and he’d yelped, his grip loosening. I’d turned and kneed him in the balls. He’d fallen to the ground groaning, cupping himself protectively.
“You are delusional!” I’d hissed at him. “I wouldn’t sleep with you ever, you freak.”
“Bitch!” he’d snarled, and I ran away before he could follow me.
Needless to say, things were a bit strained with Crispin after that, and I made sure I was never alone with him. The brothers had always had a difficult relationship, and after I told Jack what happened, he went after Crispin. I don’t know what was said, but Crispin turned up with a black eye and a lame excuse about a cupboard the next morning.
Now he had something over me, and there was no getting around it. Despite giving up Anders, I was going to have to tell Jack anyway. The alternative was unthinkable. There was no way I was leaving myself to the mercy of Crispin. It was only a matter of time before he called.
No moment would be right, but every time I started to tell Jack in the days that followed, we were interrupted or I chickened out. It had been a week since I’d last seen Anders, and I was missing him fiercely. Giving him up was harder than I had imagined, and I was wavering. I was going to hurt Jack anyway when I told him, so why not go the whole way now and tell him that I was leaving him too? Imagining Jack and I fully reconciled was a castle in Spain. The best I could hope for was more of the same. With Anders I could be happy. Would the loss of this life mean more?
I didn’t know what to do, so I Googled Anders just so I could see his face. It wasn’t like I could carry a picture of him with me, and there were so many to choose from: young Anders, older Anders, sexy Captain Milton Anders. That was when I saw the new paparazzi photographs. They were a bit fuzzy, but even so, it was clearly Anders. He was all over some tiny skinny blonde in designer jeans, his tall and lanky frame bent down, kissing her. The gossip articles gushed about their “hook ups” in the last six weeks accompanied by a gallery of photographs and dates. They also thoughtfully included headshots of them both, so I could see her exquisite and delicately pale beauty in glorious Technicolor. All those Internet articles about the other blondes that he had told me were not true flashed into my mind. I ran to the bathroom and vomited.
Anders had felt too good to be true, and he was. In a way, I had been waiting for something like this, not truly believing that I would be lucky enough to be with Anders fully, in an everyday way. Being caught by Crispin had almost seemed like a sign that the way might be opening up, but it was really just my last door shutting. I had tried to have everything, and I would end up with nothing. Now both my relationships were going down the toilet.
Andres’ betrayal had shown me that if my time with him was food, it would be homemade marshmallow: sweet and delicious, light and fluffy, but no substance. It hadn’t been real, just wishful thinking. I felt sad and embarrassed that I had been taken in, sold on his professions of love, despite my determination to remain clear headed and see the relationship for what it was. He had seemed so sincere, but then he was an actor. I was angrier at myself because I had known better but had still been so stupid. I wish I had never met him, I whispered to myself as I lay on the bathroom floor. Then giving in, I curled into the fetal position, holding a towel over my mouth to muffle the sound of crying.
“Did you see the pictures?” Anders’ call came later in the day.
“Yes, I did.” I was proud of how emotionless I sounded. In truth, I was just drained and tired after crying for hours already.
“It’s not what it looks like,” he said uncomfortably.
“Your tongue wasn’t down her throat?” I asked caustically.
“Yes, no, not really. It was all staged. It’s to get publicity for the movie. Two stars hooking up is big news and raises interest in the film. They asked us to do it months ago. I didn’t know they were going to release the photos yet. It’s just a publicity stunt, I swear. I was going to tell you about it last time we met, but I got distracted. I love you.”
“Maybe that’s true; maybe it isn’t.” I’d never know, though, and I’d always wonder. What do they say about smoke and fire? Maybe if he’d told me before it happened, it would have made a difference. Now it was too late. “I could handle anything except you lying to me.”
“I know I made a mistake not telling you, and part of me wanted to make you jealous. I was stupid. Please.”
“So, which is it? You forgot, or you wanted to make me jealous?” I couldn’t believe he couldn’t even get his story straight. Amateur.
“I wanted to make you jealous. I thought it would make you see that you wanted to be with me. I fucked up!” he said miserably. I had a sudden epiphany, and it wasn’t a good one. I was nearly choking on the lump in my throat.
“You leaked the stories about us.” My voice was low
and barely controlled.
“Why would I do that!” he said unconvincingly.
“How did they know all the details, then? Only you and I knew about the food.”
There was a long pause.
“You’re right,” he admitted finally. “Not everything, but some of it. I did it because I knew that you would be forced to choose. I thought you’d choose me,” he rasped. “I’m so sorry I fucked this all up.”
“I think it is best for both of us if you don’t call again,” I said stiffly. “If I’m not in the background, you can find someone…” I was trying to be generous, but mostly I wanted to scream. It was too much.
“You were never going to leave him, were you?” Bitterness had crept into his voice. “You’re just using this as an excuse.”
“It was never going to end well. We both know that.” I fought to keep my voice calm. Whatever warped trust we had placed in each other had been completely destroyed.
“Why? Why wouldn’t it?” he demanded.
“Because we’re both untrustworthy. You because you had no problems seducing a married woman, and me because I chose to sleep with you, even though I was married. We can’t trust each other not to do it again.”
“That’s bullshit! It was a first for both of us.”
“We crossed that line. We have to accept that it wouldn’t have worked between us out in the open. My career would be over and yours hampered by being labeled a home-wrecker.”
“This is fucked.”
“I know,” I whispered.
“You know we belong together. It’s just unfair that he met you first,” he said, his voice urgent. “I can make you happy. I know you’re unhappy with him.”
Saint Kate of the Cupcake: The Dangers of Lust and Baking Page 15