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I’m rendered speechless when she sits down next to us, making herself comfortable. Am I not being clear enough? “How have you been?”
“Great.” I look out the corner of my eye to Lainey, whose lips are straight and her body language awkward. My level of irritation rises. “We’re kind of busy,” I grate.
“Yeah, I saw.” Annabella smiles tightly at Lainey. “Aren’t you going to introduce me?”
“No.”
Annabella sighs, leaning over a little and looking at the table. “Jenna,” she muses, looking at Lainey, whose jaw is tight. “Nice to meet you, Jenna.” Annabella offers her hand. “I’m Annabella. Ty’s ex-wife.”
I glare at Annabella, seeing something close to satisfaction on her face. She thinks she’s just shared some big secret. The fact that she’s sorely mistaken is beside the point. She’s being vindictive. God, she hasn’t changed a bit. I squeeze Lainey’s thigh, my order not to touch Annabella.
“I know who you are,” Lainey says, ignoring Annabella’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you.”
I cough. Is it? “Likewise,” Annabella hums, bringing her gaze back to me. “I wondered if we could talk.”
“No,” I reply curtly. “Didn’t you get the message when you called up my office a few months ago and I hung up?”
“I thought it was a bad connection.” She sniffs, flicking a look to Lainey. “And your assistant has said you’re busy every time I’ve tried to call you since.”
Every time? She’s tried calling more than that one time? I immediately mentally praise Gina for her initiative. She saw the result of the one time she put my ex-wife through. My PA wisely made the executive decision not to mention any further attempts to contact me. I need to buy her some flowers. “That’s because my assistant knows I wouldn’t want to talk to you, Annabella.”
“Give me a few minutes,” she insists. The woman has some front. Lainey, my date, is perched on my lap, albeit solid as a rock and silent, and Annabella’s talking to me like she’s not here. I know the deal. Annabella thinks she’s just a screw. The latest flavor. Oh, how wrong she is, and I can’t wait to tell her.
“And what are we going to talk about in those few minutes?” I ask.
“Us.”
“Us?” I question, shocked. Is she for real? “What could there possibly be to talk about? In case you’ve forgotten, we divorced seven years ago after my dad died and you ran off with my money and some old decrepit merchant banker. The only thing I have to say to you, Annabella, is fuck off and die.”
Lainey coughs and Annabella recoils. Don’t tell me she’s injured by my verbal vomit of pure facts. “Can we do this in private?” she asks, flicking her eyes to Lainey.
“Anything you’ve got to say, you can say in front of Lainey. She already knows what a bitch you are. Nothing you can say will surprise her.” The venom in my tone isn’t controllable. I can’t believe this woman.
“Lainey?” Annabella questions. “I thought her name was Jenna?”
“What the fuck does it matter what her name is?” I snap, losing my already fraying patience. “Just go.”
Annabella flinches. “It was a tough time, Ty.”
The comfortable weight of Lainey on my lap only half eases me. “Tough?” I laugh, cold and harshly. Actually, no. Not harshly at all. “Annabella, I haven’t got time for you. Run back along to your old man.” Old being the operative word. What must he be by now? Seventy? I hope he’s impotent.
“We split up.”
“That’s a shame,” I mutter, taking a swig of my drink, splaying my hand on Lainey’s tummy to keep her snug to me. Why is she telling me all this? I’m not fucking interested. I open my mouth to tell her exactly that, but my intended fuck off hangs on my tongue. Wait. Don’t tell me . . . I laugh out loud, feeling Lainey looking at me warily. “Are you telling me this because—”
“I want to make things right with you,” Annabella says exactly what I was dreading. The woman is unbelievable, and judging by Lainey squirming on my lap, she agrees. Annabella turns a tight smile onto Lainey. “Well, I did request privacy.”
“You’ve got it.” Lainey’s up from my lap before I can stop her, brushing her dress down. “I’ll leave you two to talk.”
What the fuck? What is she doing? I go to stand, but get stopped when Lainey leans over me to claim her red wine. “Lainey . . .” Her finger lands over my lips, silencing me. I give her the filthiest look, that she totally ignores.
“You guys obviously have unfinished business.”
We absolutely do not. I start to shake my head, panic setting in. I won’t be held responsible for my actions if I’m left alone with this woman. I can hear my father’s voice in my head ordering me to take the teardrop vase from the middle of the table and ram it up Annabella’s arse, and I’m pretty fucking tempted to do as I’m told.
