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We’re both driven by jealousy and its ugly traits. It’s almost murderous.
“My personal life, Miss Milenov, remains no one’s business but my own.”
The room goes dead silent.
I want to tell Wesley we’re done, that I can’t continue second-guessing myself and this relationship, and that my heart continues to ache from missing Mama and home. The guilt of hurting Phoebe and Liam lays heavy on my shoulders.
And most importantly—I will never be Emerson.
“I have to go get Lola. We’re done.” Emerson stacks her papers, standing up and waiting for Wesley to respond.
“As done as we can be,” Wesley scoffs.
Charlie rolls her eyes at them both, following Emerson’s lead and saying goodbye, leaving me alone with Wesley.
The wrath of Wesley Rich will come undone. I can smell it in the air. Wesley’s stare is cold, his eyes wide without blinking.
“You’re quiet.”
“I have to go… I have a lot to do.” I stand, gathering my things when Wesley commands I sit.
“What’s wrong? You didn’t want Emerson and me to meet alone, so I thought you’d be happy. More time for you to talk with the girls about your boyfriend back home,” he snaps, insulting me.
This isn’t the time nor the place to have another argument. My head is pounding and on the verge of a migraine with the work that stems from the meeting. Not to mention the emotional game of tennis we watched being played between Wesley and Emerson.
I really want to be alone and call Mama. Speak to her, ease my stress, if only for a few minutes.
“I was put on the spot. I need to go, Wesley.”
“You think I’m stupid?”
“What? No…”
Wesley’s laughter is filled with sarcasm, and his rocking back-and-forth on the chair is starting to irritate me.
“So why don’t I believe your excuse? I don’t have time for games, Milana. Tell me what I did wrong, so I can fix it.”
It’s my turn to laugh, this time unable to hide my annoyance. “Tell you what you did wrong, so you can fix it? Maybe you didn’t do anything wrong. Maybe the problem is me. I said yes to being your girlfriend, and I basically have no damn clue who you are aside from what I’ve read online.” I take a breath, then unleash, “I mean… did you have anything to do with the drowning? What about the old man you hit? Where is he, and why didn’t you serve more time? And that Farrah woman… did you hit her? Who was that the other night who wanted you to fuck her up the ass? God, Wesley… so many questions, and it’s not me to be like this, but I can’t fucking concentrate when I’m around you. Then your cell goes off, and it’s probably women wanting a booty call.” I squeeze my eyebrows together. “God only knows what you do when I’m not around.” I take deep breaths while in mid-panic attack mode. My chest is incredibly tight and unforgiving.
“Shhh… calm down, okay?” He lowers his tone, peeping outside the glass to see if anyone’s walking by. “I can answer all your questions, just not here. If that’s your bottom line if you really want to know everything about who’s sleeping in your bed at night… I will answer your questions.”
“You will?” I ask, maybe too eagerly though relieved as well.
“Yes,” he responds. Though he’s quick to add, “Because then I can ask you questions.”
“Me?”
“I’m not the only mystery, Milana. The only difference is that when I Google Milana Milenov, I get a picture of a girl graduating from Anchorage Business School, and that’s it.”
I smile, finding him kinda cute knowing he Googled me. I finally manage to look him in the eye and allow my body to feel him over me. This force is powerful, everything I felt before this a distant memory.
“Dinner, my place at seven sharp,” he demands with a smirk.
“Deal… but I have a ton of work to do so I can’t stay.”
“No deal. You’re staying over. If you have to go to New York next week, I want you every moment I can have you.”
“You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Rich.”
