“Exactly what I said.”
“And because I own it.”
“You also own an apartment block in Knightsbridge, commercial space on Canary Wharf, a huge chunk of the Docklands, but I don’t see you bedding down at any of those for the night.”
My chest expands, though I stifle the sigh. “No one lives in the Docklands, Fin.”
“No one you’d speak to, you mean.”
I push off from the credenza. “Shall we?”
“Wait. All this conversation, and you haven’t said a word.”
“I’m sure I’ve said several. And I’m about to say several other less-pleasant ones.”
“About yesterday.”
I’m startled for a moment but then remember Fin doesn’t know about Eve or the tension bunching my shoulders that has nothing to do with him and everything to do with waking to an empty bed. An empty bed and a scribbled note on hotel stationery.
Oliver, thank you for your friendship.
Those were some benefits . . .
Eve x
Friends.
I’ve never had a friend I wanted to fuck my name, my fingerprints, into.
It’s been a long time since I’d woken alone after a one-night stand. Living in a hotel has many conveniences. The door is always open. I don’t need to maintain extra staff or security. The location is convenient and very secluded, given I live in the penthouse with my own elevator, and if I require anything—from a coffee at three o’clock in the morning to condoms at that vital moment, the concierge is just a phone call away.
Despite Fin’s assertions, my private life isn’t conducted out of this suite. I book another, then explain to my companion that I have an early meeting but that the room has a late checkout. That they should order breakfast or whatever. Meanwhile, I just pop upstairs unseen.
It’s a win-win situation. A sexual connection without the need to suffer through that awkward morning after. I feel my brows pinch. I would’ve settled for awkward over alone this morning.
“I expected to find you doing cartwheels.”
“What was that?” I glance up, realizing I’m standing halfway between the credenza and the door and Fin is eyeing me narrowly.
“You haven’t heard? Ah, man.” He rubs a hand across his mouth as though to hide his delight. “This is gonna give you such a fuckin’ hard-on.”
I rotate my wrist.Please, go on.Or get to the point.
“You know Atherton was supposed to get married yesterday?”
The sound of his name usually makes me want to curse, but this time I find it hard to curtail my smile. “Was he?”
“You’ve heard,” Fin retorts flatly.
“No.” I give a quick shrug, not wanting to be too disingenuous. The fact is I hadn’t known. Not until I’d slid my arm around his would-be bride. “I take it he didn’t?”
“The bride came to her senses.”
About a week too late, if I remember.
“Caught him with his pants down. But that’s not even the fun part.”
“Because finding out your fiancé is cheating is always fun.”
