bChapter /bb113 /b

    Olivia

    Two hours and several drinkster, ire and Ariana announced they needed to leave.

    “Early meeting tomorrow,” ire exined, gathering her purse. “Some of us don’t get to take off for tropical honeymoons.”

    “Rub it in,” Ariana grumbled good–naturedly. “I haven’t had a day off in weeks.”

    After hugs and promises to meet up again soon, they left, leaving just Emilia and me at the table.

    “So,” she said, sipping her cocktail. “Now that the others are gone, tell me the truth. How’s married life really treating you?”

    I traced the rim of my wine ss. “It’s different from what I expected.”

    “Good different or bad different?”

    “Just different.” I struggled to find the right words. “Alexander is not who I thought he was.”

    “Most men aren’t,” Emilia said sagely. “The question is whether the reality is better or worse than the expectation.”

    I thought about Alexander, his intensity, his surprising moments of tenderness, the way he’d looked at me under the stars on the ind.

    “Better,” 1 admitted. “Different, but better.”

    “Good,” Emilia nodded. “After the Ryan disaster, you deserve better.”

    The mention of Ryan sent a familiar pang through me, but it was duller now, more distant. “Have you heard from him?”

    “He tried to corner me at the grocery storest week,” Emilia rolled her eyes. “Wanted to know if you were really married or if it was just social media bullshit.”

    “What did you tell him?”

    “To fuck off and die,” she said cheerfully. “Then I asked if his dick had fallen off from whatever STD Sophia gave him.”

    I burst outughing. “You didn’t.”

    “I absolutely did,” she confirmed. “The look on his face was priceless.”

    “God, I love you,” I said, still chuckling.

    “Love you too, which is why I need to ask…” She leaned forward, suddenly serious. “Are you really okay? This whole whirlwind romance and marriage, it’s not like you.”

    I met her gaze steadily. “I’m okay, Em. Really.”

    “Promise? Because if he’s pressuring you or moving too fast-”

    “He’s not,” I interrupted. “I’m exactly where I want to be.”

    She studied my face for a moment, then nodded. “Okay. I believe you. But if that changes-”

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    18:36 Fri, 22 Aug

    “You’ll be the first to know,” I promised.

    “Good.” She drained her ss. “Now, back to the important stuff. Is his dick as big as his ego?”

    “Emilia!” Iughed, shaking my head.

    “What? Valid question. Man’s got a reputation.”

    “I am not discussing my husband’s… dimensions with you.”

    “Fine,” she pouted. “But at least tell me if he knows how to use it. Whatever size it is.”

    I felt my cheeks burn. “He knows what he’s doing.”

    “So he eats pussy like a champ?”

    “Oh my god,” I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “Can we please change the subject?”

    “Not until you give me something,” she insisted. “One detail. For my fantasy bank.”

    “You have a fantasy bank?”

    “Every woman does. Where do you think I go during boring meetings? Now spill.”

    I sighed, ncing around to make sure no one was listening. “Fine. One detail.”

    Emilia leaned forward eagerly.

    “He’s very good with his hands,” I said, feeling my cheeks flush at the memory. “And he likes to take control.”

    “I fucking knew it,” Emilia sat back, looking smug. “He’s a dominant.”

    “I didn’t say that.”

    “You didn’t have to.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “He definitely ties you to the bed, doesn’t he?”

    “We are not having this conversation.”

    25%

    Emiliaughed, tossing back thest of her drink. “Alright, alright. But be safe, okay? Those fancy CEO types can be adventurous.”

    “I’m perfectly capable of handling myself,” I said, straightening up and smoothing my hair. “And Alexander is-”

    “Is what?” A deep male voice cut through our conversation.

    froze, my eyes widening as I looked up to find James Westbrook standing beside our table, martini in hand and a familiar smirk ying on his lips.

    “Mr. Westbrook,” Emilia greeted him with exaggerated formality. “Fancy seeing you here.”

    He chuckled, his eyes never leaving mine. “Please, I’ve told you before, it’s James to youdies.”

    My mind shed back to our first encounter a few weeks ago in this very bar…

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    18:36 Fri, 22 Aug

    “Another round!” ire had announced, returning from the bathroom. “The bartender is absolutely gorgeous.”

    “You say that about every bartender,” Iughed, finishing my wine.

    “Because it’s always true,” she defended herself. “Men who can make a good cocktail are automatically hotter.”

    “Is that scientific?” Ariana asked, eyebrow raised.

    “Absolutely,” ire nodded solemnly. “Studies have been done. Very scientific studies.”

    Emilia snorted into her drink. “By who? Cosmo magazine?”

    We were allughing when a tall figure appeared at our table, casting a shadow over our drinks.

    “Excuse me,” he said, voice smooth as velvet. “I couldn’t help noticing you from across the bar.”

    25%

    11

    I nced up to isee /ia tall man with dark hair and a marble–carved jawline, wearing a suit that whispered wealth with effortless style.

    “Let me guess,” Emilia said dryly. “You noticed my friend here and just had toe introduce yourself?”

    His smile was disarming. “Am I that transparent?”

    “Like cellophane,” ire muttered, but she was smiling too.

    The man’s eyes stayed ifixed /ion me. “I’m James Westbrook. And you are?”

    “Trying to have a girls‘ night,” I responded, but there was no real bite to my words. Something about his confidence was oddly charming.

    “Ouch,” he ced a hand over his heart in mock pain. “Shot down before I even got your name.”

    “It’s Olivia.”

    “Olivia,” he repeated, like he was tasting the word. “Beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”

    “Does that line usually work for you?” I asked, surprised by my own boldness.

    Hisugh was genuine. “About sixty percent of the time.”

    “And the other forty percent?”

    “I get told to take a hike.”

    “Which category am I falling into?”

    He leaned forward slightly. “I’m hoping for the sixty, but I’m prepared for the forty.”

    Despite myself, I smiled. There was something refreshing about his honesty.

    i“/iCan I buy you a drink, Olivia?”

    “I already have one,” I gestured to my half full bss/bb. /b

    “Then perhaps your next one?”

    18:36 Fri, 22 Aug

    “I’m not sure there will be a next one. Early meeting tomorrow.”

    “Ah,” he nodded sagely. “Corporate America calls.”

    “Something like that.”

    “Where do you work? If you don’t mind my asking.”

    I hesitated. “Carter Enterprises. Marketing department.”

    AD

    bCh /b