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Adeline
Jameson places his hand on my thigh and leans in close. “You’re being particularly argumentative tonight.”
I remove his hand. “And you’re being particularly assholey.”
We’re an hour into his work dinner and I’m ready to leave. Thank God for Jenna, my business partner. She’s here because she’s married to Beckett, Jameson’s business partner. She’s keeping me occupied with conversation and distracted from Jameson.
He’s right that I’m being argumentative. I can’t help myself. I’m so annoyed with him that I want to challenge him over everything. I think I’m looking for an argument Icanwin because I’m not convinced he’ll allow me to win my London argument.
I tried to broach it with him again at home before we came tonight. He refused to listen to sense again, telling me he can’t see the situation working out well.
I don’t understand his reasoning. I can see us making it work and I believe Bill will buy it. But Jameson won’t even engage in a conversation about it. I’m confused and frustrated, and those emotions are manifesting as anger that causes me to continue arguing.
“So, Adeline,” Ashton says from across the table, “I read something about you expanding into the UK and Europe. When is that happening?”
I reach for my wine and take a sip. “I’m working on it now. I’m hopeful to have our flagship London store open in the next six months.”
“And after London?” Beckett asks.
“Paris,” I say. “After that, I’ll look at other UK sites.”
“I imagine that means a fair bit of travel coming up for you,” Ashton says.
“I’m hoping not too much. I’m looking at basing myself in London for a while,” I say.
“No, there will be a lot of travel,” Jameson says, using the tone he takes when he’s intent on having the last word on something.
Jenna frowns. “Basing yourself there would make more sense.”
“No,” Jameson says, his voice getting darker.
I look at him, noting that his eyes have darkened too.
I truly don’t understand him right now. I thought we were growing closer. I thought we were in sync with each other. I mean, he took me to Vegas last week to visit my father’s grave, canceling meetings to do so. He bought a magazine simply because he didn’t like so much of my skin being on display for the world to see.
The last couple of weeks’ worth of social engagements and time spent with his family haven’t felt like everything we did was just to prove our marriage is real. But he’s taken every opportunity today to remind me of our contract.
It suddenly feels like I maybe took my eye off the ball and gave away too many slivers of my heart.
Men aren’t like women, Adeline.
My mother’s voice slams into me.
They don’t feel things like we do.
Oh, God.
I think I fucked up.
I think I’ve fallen in love.
And I don’t think Jameson has.
“No,” I say with resolve while a storm of emotions rush through me. “I won’t be doing a lot of travel. I’ll definitely be moving to London for a while.”
Jameson clenches his jaw and I know he’s working hard to rein his feelings in. That’s a good thing, because I’m ready for a fight, and I don’t care who witnesses it. And as much as I rationally know I should do everything to avoid a public fight, I’m not thinking too rationally right now.
A lot of people told me I’d never succeed when I started my business. They told me models only know how to parade around in clothes, not run businesses. When I lost my first company, they came out and said, “I told you so.” I’ve worked hard and put everything on the line to get where I am today. Expanding overseas is the next step, and I don’t want to mess it up. I really need to be in London to oversee everything and ensure it succeeds.
