Inconvenient Wife

by Natasha Boyd

  I say goodbye, hoping I’m imagining the interested looks the various bank tellers and staff give me as I walk through to the main lobby, the majority of whom are female. Of course, a familiar looking girl with vibrant red hair winks at me as I pass her desk. “Hey, Beau,” she says .

  “Claire.” I nod and keep moving. I think I slept with her year before last. I don’t look back, even though I know it’s rude, but my collar is suddenly too tight, the bowtie like a noose. I can’t breathe .

  I burst onto Broad Street and blink in the sunlight .

  The phone in my pocket is buzzing. Trystan. I breathe deeply, relieved for the distraction and answer. “What’s up, cousin ?”

  “I think putting an ad in the newspaper was a little dramatic, don’t you ?”

  “What the hell, why does everyone think I did it?” I make quick work of untying the bowtie and stuff it in my pocket, then undo the top two buttons on my shirt .

  “You didn’t? Thank God .”

  “Where are you? You back in town? I need advice .”

  “Ha. I do too, if you can believe it .”

  “I can’t. Montgomery advice or relationship advice? Because I’m shaky on the former and a disaster on the latter. Even my best friend isn’t talking to me anymore .”

  I look into the windows of Oak Steakhouse next door to the bank and see the bartender polishing glasses as they prepare to open for the day. An ice-cold beer would be spectacular right now .

  “I just landed and bought the Post & Courier on the concourse .”

  “I hope you’ll stay on South Battery. Grandmother … well, let’s just say she’s lonely. I think it would mean a lot to her .”

  There’s a sigh down the line. “Yeah, all right .”

  “So what do you need advice on ?”

  “Relationships.”

  “The tour guide ?”

  Trystan chuckles. “Yeah .”

  “That escalated quickly .”

  “You have no idea .”

  My phone beeps with an incoming call. “Hang on.” Gracie. “Apparently, my best friend is talking to me after all. I’ll see you at Grandmother’s ?”

  “Sure.”

  I clicked over. “Gra-Gwen ?”

  14

  Beau

  B eau? Oh my God. I’m so sorry. I had no idea they’d place an ad. They didn’t run it past me .”

  “What are you talking about ?”

  “The ad in the classifieds. The personal section. The one you saw this morning looking for a wife .”

  The blood drains from my head, and I sway in the humid heat. “Oh shit.” Standing on the street outside the bank, the phone to my ear, I can feel my blood pressure creeping up and embarrassment rising like a tide. “If it wasn’t you, who the hell placed an ad then ?”

  Gwen blows out a breath, and I imagine her grimacing. “Look, that’s not important. I’m so sorry .”

  “Not important? Are you at work? Never mind. Of course, you are. See you in a second.” I hang up and start up Broad toward King Street. I need answers. This whole thing is blowing up, and if I’m not careful it will scatter me like flaked fish food all over the city .

  It takes me less than ten minutes to get to the showroom, and when I swing open the door the conversation inside freezes with the air-conditioning that pours over me .

  I must look like a beast out for blood because the five women huddled around a computer monitor instantly quail. Only Alice stands up and folds her arms across her chest in an expression of being far from sorry .

  “Beau—”

  “Who did it ?”

  “Ooh la la,” Gwen’s boss, Sylvie says, her eyes raking over me like a hungry jungle cat .

  “We all did,” says Alice at the same time and motions to everyone, including Gwen .

  I raise my eyebrows .

  “It’s my fault,” Gwen says. “ But — ”

  “For fuck’s sake. Can you all just back off ?”

  “So you don’t want help?” Alice asks .

  “No.”

  “Really? Who do you have lined up ?”

  “Not like this! I even had Tom Middleton asking if I’d placed an ad. You think you’re being discreet, but you’re making it worse. Can’t you all find something better to do? This is my problem, and I’ll sort it out .”

  “I’m sorry,” says Gwen. “It’s totally my fault. I mean we talked about it as an option. I didn’t think … well, it doesn’t matter. I take full responsibility .”

  “But we got some applications, cheri,” Sylvie says and tries to wave me over to where they were all peering at a computer screen .

  “I’m not interested,” I snap .

  “What are you going to do then?” Alice asks. “At least come over and read a few .”

  “I’m not getting sucked into this.” Then I give Gwen a long look where I try to convey how betrayed I feel, but instead I see a strange set of emotions flickering over her face that I can’t name. Before I can try, they melt away and she bites her lip and turns her head. Her hair is wound up in some intricate shape on the back of her head, accentuating the line of her neck and jaw. I never see her with her hair up. She stands then, and she’s wearing a form-fitting floral dress. I guess I always see her at the boat shop and in shorts in summer and jeans in winter. Or naked. The image hits me like a slap in the face, and I have to literally shake my head to clear it .

  She’s looking past me, eyes growing wide and then lighting up .

  The door opens behind me, and I step aside for a tall man with silver hair .

  “Ahh, lots of beautiful ladies today,” the newcomer says, addressing the gaggle of woman at the desk. If he’s weirded out by them, he hides it well. He looks at me, his eyebrows raised. I note that he’s much younger than his silver hair suggests, and he’s extremely good-looking which is annoying to notice on many levels. “And gentleman ?”

  I clear my throat and hold out my hand. “Beau Montgomery,” I say and then some instinct has me adding. “I was just here to visit Gwen .”

  “Ah. The beautiful Gwen.” He takes my hand and squeezes it a touch harder than a normal handshake. It makes me want to laugh at him. “I should have known she would not be without a suitor .”

  Suitor? “No, I mean — ”

  “Something more serious.” He bows his head slightly. “Of course .”

  I shake my head bemused, half expecting him to say something about muskets at dawn .

  Gwen is eyeing the two of us with a raised eyebrow as she approaches before she transfers her full attention to the older gentleman. “Mr. Canopolis. Thank you for coming in again .”

  “Welcome, Mr. Canopolis,” interrupts Sylvie, steering him away from Gwen and me. “We were just wrapping up a meeting. Gwen has been working on your proposal. She’ll join us in a moment. Vien ici, ” she adds, motioning to the small conference table. “May I offer you something to drink ?”

  Alice, Penny, and Daisy look between me and Gwen, and then huddle back around the computer .

  “What the hell, Gracie?” I whisper. “An ad in the paper ?”

  “I know,” she says in a low voice. “I’m sorry. I mean it. I didn’t know they would go so far .”

  “I thought maybe you did it to get back at me .”

  Her eyebrows knit together. “For what ?”

  “For, how did you put it so succinctly the other night, being a ‘selfish prick’?” Up close, I can see her eyes are slightly bloodshot, the lids a bit puffy. In a flash I know it’s because she cried recently, and something twists uncomfortably inside me. What am I not seeing in this picture? I feel like I’m looking at all the pieces of a puzzle but can’t quite put it together. I shake my head .

  “Look, Beau. I’m so sorry. Can I buy you a beer later ?”

  “Trystan’s back in town,” I hedge. “Not sure what my plans are, but I’m planning on seeing him .”

  She nibbles her bottom lip again. “Okay. I’ll be working on the boat tonight. Dad
can’t make it, and we’re running out of days. So if you find yourself at a loose end, I’ll be desperate for a cold beer by then. I’d like a chance to explain and apologize .”

  She doesn’t ask me to help. And I would, but right now I think maybe I need to get some distance and perspective. Something is going on in our friendship and I’m not sure I like it. The rules are changing. The field is changing. “I think … well, I think we both need to take a breather. This marriage thing seems to have blown everything up. I … can you just leave this alone? I thought when you said you’d help me, it would be discreet. Now I feel like everyone knows, and it’s …” I looked over at Sylvie and Mr. Canopolis and lower my voice even further, “it’s freaking humiliating .”

  Gwen flinches .

  “Like I’m a circus animal,” I whisper, my temper rising now that I’m giving voice to my feelings. I realize how angry I sound, but I don’t change my tone even though I’m in danger of causing a scene in her work place. Good. Let Mr. Fuckopolis think we’re having a lover’s spat. For some reason that gives me great satisfaction and focuses my irritation. “I’m a Goddamn grown-ass man. If I can find someone to fuck anytime I feel like it, I can damn well find someone willing to marry me if I have to .”

  Gwen’s expression is indecipherable, but her green eyes are glowing so hot I fear they could scorch lines across my skin. It’s breathtaking. “Let’s take this outside,” she all but growls at me. Then I’m following her through the showroom and past the women at the computer who are pretending not to listen. “Don’t you all have jobs?” I mutter, but don’t wait for a response as I continue out the back exit into a cobblestoned service alley .

  Gwen spins around as the door closes behind me, and I’m suddenly speechless, staring at her .

  She’s reacting all right. But just not in the way I want .

  She’s not sorry, she’s raging .

  “I think I’ll text you later,” I grind out. “Maybe when we’re both calmer we can talk .”

  “You know what?” she hisses back at me, her eyes darting to the door, up the empty alley, and then back to me. “Don’t. Don’t text me if you’re going to act like the animal you purport not to be. You’re being ridiculous. The ad was a mistake, obviously. But the sentiment was valid. We were trying to help you. But good luck, Beau Montgomery. Between the shit you said the other night and now today? I’m done. You’re on your own .”

  I don’t know what I want from her. But not this—her eyes are blazing, her pulse kicking wildly in her throat. I could touch it with my fingertips and calm her down, I think, but as the thought crosses my mind, I blink. Where did that come from ?

  I’ve never seen her so on fire or so beautiful. In a flash, I remember her naked body again and maybe it’s the damp Charleston heat, but if what’s holding her back from marrying me is that she wants sex, I can damn well give that to her. With pleasure .

  Alarm flickers over her face as I reach for her. “Beau, what are you — ”

  “Sorry.” It’s my last word before I reach my hand around the back of her head and my lips crash down over hers. My other arm yanks her slim, athletic body to mold firmly against mine .

  Her pale pink lips are stiff in shock and just as suddenly give way, and then I’m tasting her .

  A shudder rips through me and Oh shit , I’m kissing Gracie is my last coherent thought .

  Sweet.

  More.

  Her tongue. Christ .

  A hunger like I’ve never known claws through me, and I’m not in control as I angle her to taste her better, to feel her better. In seconds I have her turned and pressed against the metal exit door of her office. My skin flashes from cold to hot and back as her hands rake through my hair making goosebumps race across my entire body. “Fuck, Gracie,” I whisper, suddenly hoarse with want. I’ve never —

  “Get off, Beau.” Those hands are thrusting me away from her. “No .”

  I stumble back, blinking .

  She swings away and turns her back on me, hands against the door, chest and shoulders heaving. “Don’t touch me,” she rasps out and I drop my arms that were already reaching for her without my noticing .

  She lays her forehead against the cold metal door .

  I’m blinking, short of breath and painfully hard .

  “What the hell, Beau?” she says quietly .

  “I—I don’t know,” I say. It’s all I can manage. I have no idea what the hell just happened .

  Blowing out a harsh breath, I shove my fingers through my hair .

  She presses her cheek against the door and looks at me over her shoulder .

  I touch her shoulder, wanting her to turn, and she flinches. “Don’t .”

  But she does turn then, also short of breath like me. The anger in her eyes has returned, this time with unimaginable hurt .

  My arousal evaporates instantly. Dread, sick and dark, rumbles through me. What have I done ?

  We stare at each other, and I truly don’t know what to say. I’ve never been one to fill a silence just because it’s there, and I don’t start now. I wouldn’t even know how to begin to explain what came over me or why I did what I did .

  Before I even register what’s coming, she raises her hand and smacks me across the cheek .

  Stinging, sharp pain flares and my face snaps to the side. It feels fantastic. I should have done that to myself five minutes ago .

  “I deserved that,” I tell her .

  Her eyes are shining with unshed tears and she shakes her head. “I’m sorry .”

  “Don’t be. I’m the one who’s sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. Thanks for smacking some sense into me .”

  Gwen’s lip trembles then, but she takes a deep breath, clears her throat and nods. “Right.” She pulls some kind of chopstick out of her golden hair and it falls softly around her face. Then she lifts her arms and twists her hair around at the back of her head before shoving the stick back in. I have a bizarre urge to take the stick back out .

  She wrenches open the door behind her and swings it wide as she enters. I can almost feel the smile she pastes on her face like a knife in my gut as she disappears inside. “So sorry to keep you waiting .”

  The door slams shut with a clang of metal .

  15

  Beau

  I stare at the steel door that Gwen just disappeared through, then spin on my heel and walk down the cobblestone alley, wanting to yell .

  Everything is fucked up. I have fucked up everything .

  What in the hell just happened? How had Gwen and I gone from decades of friendship to an unstable and explosive few days that ended up with me kissing her ?

  I fucking kissed her .

  What the hell, Montgomery? Get your head on, man .

  I’m back at square one. No scratch that. I’m at less than zero. I have a ticking time clock to find a wife and instead of my best friend helping me, I’ve managed to get to the point where she wants to smack my face .

  God, I am so glad she slapped me .

  I reach up and touch my cheek where it still throbs .

  By the time I get to the end of the alleyway, I’m stalking around the corner to the same route I took, not twenty minutes ago, and cursing every step. Because I’m going to need that list of potential wives. I cannot believe I’m going along with this, but what choice do I have ?

  Christ, what has my life turned into? I ask myself as I yank open the showroom door again .

  “Uh, deja vu,” says Penny .

  I don’t hazard a look at the conference table where Sylvie and Gwen are showing plans to Mr. Canopolis .

  “Not a word,” I say to Alice, Penny, and Daisy. I grab a pen and scribble my email address onto a bright pink Post-it from her desk and slap it on the computer screen. “Send the least crazy sounding ones to this email address,” I say through gritted teeth .

  All three of them are fighting smirks .

  “Any key preferences? Dog lover? Masseuse?” Penny asks and bats her eyes
innocently .

  “No. Fine. Just … no weird sexual things.” I shake my head. “Fuck my life,” I mutter and turn back to the door .

  “Uh, a thank you would be appreciated,” Daisy calls as I’m leaving .

  I blow out a breath and pause, a hand on the door. “Thank you,” I manage painfully through tight lips before I exit .

  “How weird is weird?” I hear Alice asking .

  “Sexually? Hmm. I don’t know .”

  The door swings shut .

  I raise my eyes to the sky. “You old fucker,” I say aloud to several loud gasps of pedestrians nearby .

  * * *

  I slide into a barstool at Alice’s at four in the afternoon. I’m mad at Alice too, but there’s no other bar I like to go to. It’s casual, it’s cheap, and watching Euan amuses me. Plus, if my friendship with Gwen is over, and we’re going to divide up assets, I’m not just handing Alice’s Bar over to Gwen. She can go find somewhere else to drink if my being here bothers her. Besides, Trystan is coming to join me. No sooner do I think it, than the man himself steps into the bar. He’s tall, intimidating and more than one head turns as he walks toward me. The man has presence .

  I spin to face him and he greets me with a hand shake and a pat on the back as he grabs the seat next to me .

  He glances around .

  “It’s my local,” I explain .

  “It’s nice,” Trystan responds .

  “I wouldn’t say that. But they don’t judge. Especially not today when I show up here at four .”

  “Everything okay ?”

  “Not really. But you go first. How does it feel to have officially sold your company ?”

  “Pretty damn scary. I wake up thinking of all the things I’m supposed to do that day and then I realize it’s not my problem anymore. It feels … odd. Good in a way, but odd .”

  “I can imagine. There won’t be many more days of waking up with nothing to do though, now that you’re taking on Montgomery Homes and Facilities .”

  Trystan gives a chuckle. “I know. I have some work to do there. No offense.” He slaps my back .