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"Are you sure? You look... I don't know. I think disturbed isn't the right word... Maybe frazzled?" she questions.
I shake my head. "Nothing, just something with work. It's not a big deal."
She gives me a look like she's not sure if she believes me.
I lean down and kiss her head, stating, "You look gorgeous."
She smiles and gazes down at her pink sundress, answering, "Thanks."
I slide my hand into hers and state, "Let's go eat pancakes." I lead her out to the car.
We get inside the Porsche and don't say a lot on the way to the cafe. I pull up at the valet, step out of the car, and hand him my keys. He gives me a ticket, and I meet Blakely on the sidewalk.
I tug her into me, still hard from viewing the video footage, and reprimand myself for looking at it. I should have known better. I had no business looking at that before we left the house, especially while I'm on this seventy-two-hour hiatus.
I need to figure out how to break it.
I lead my pet inside, and the hostess greets us. She bats her eyes and says in a flirty tone, "Welcome. I'm Candy. You're Mr. Madden, correct? I recognize you from your company website." She drags her eyes over my body, then relocks them on mine.
Blakely stiffens next to me.
Her admission that she's looked at my website irks me. I don't need this little tart screwing more things up between my wife and me. Plus, I know how Blakely gets when other women hit on me, so I tighten my grip around her. I use my coldest tone to make it clear I'm not into the hostess's attention, and answer, "Yes. We have a reservation."
Candy's eyes brighten, and she dares to toss Blakely a dismissive glance. She lowers her voice and leans closer, stating, "Mr. Madden, I selected our best table for you. Is a private balcony okay?" She gives me a seductive smile.
I use the same voice and narrow my eyes on her. "That will be fine. Please show my wife and me to our table."
She glances dismissively at Blakely again, then smirks at me. "Sure. Right this way." She spins and saunters across the restaurant, swinging her ass as she walks.
I keep Blakely tight to my side and don't miss her glaring at Candy. I kiss her on the head to try and reassure her that I have no interest in this little gold-digging slut in front of me.
We get on the balcony, which is built into the cliff. The deep-blue water sparkles below, stretching as far as the eye can see. Sea salt flares in my nostrils, and it starts to calm me. I pull the chair out and motion for my pet to sit.
Candy puts her hand on my arm, and my chest tightens. She chirps, "Is there anything else I can get for you, Mr. Madden?"
I grab her wrist, tighten my fist around it, and hold it near her shoulder. I snarl, "Don't ever touch me again. And tell my wife you're sorry for disrespecting her."
Candy gapes at me, her cheeks flaming.
"I'm waiting," I seethe through gritted teeth.
Candy finally turns and clears her throat. "I'm sorry, Blakely. I like your newest song, by the way."
I ignore her compliment and add, "Try again. It's Mrs. Madden to you."
Nerves fill her features. She straightens her shoulders, quickly asserting, "I apologize if I was disrespectful, Mrs. Madden."
"There's no doubt about it, you were," I declare, release Candy's wrist, and sit down next to Blakely.
Candy shuffles away.
Blakely turns toward me and bites her lip in amusement. I wait for her to speak, and she finally says, "Tad harsh, don't you think?"
"No," I insist, sliding my arm around her shoulders and leaning into her ear, claiming, "You're mine, and I'm yours, pet. No matter how fucked-up things are between us, that's never going to change."
Her lips curve into a tiny but unsure smile. She admits, "I want to believe that more than anything. And I wish we could go back to how we were."
It's her first admission that gives me a sign of hope. And I've not had any hope in a long time, so I'll take it.
