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She reaches for her wine. “I believe so.”
“I don’t see a need for it at all.”
“And that’s the difference between us, Jameson. You only see the need for conversations and activities that are practical and useful to your agenda, while I look for so much more.”
The conversation around us begins to quiet down, so I don’t respond to what she says. I don’t want anyone to overhear our true feelings about each other.
“Jameson,” Lionel says, pushing his chair back and standing. “I’d like a word with you.”
I nod and follow him to his office.
Lionel and Sarah’s condo is a few blocks from mine and reveals their taste for gaudy art and ostentatious furniture. None of it is my preference, but then, there’s not much about Lionel that I connect with. I’m only here for business.
His office is just as garish as the rest of his home. I endure fifteen minutes with him while he talks with me about a development he’s looking into. Nothing he mentions is of interest to me, but I remain attentive while keeping my eye on the bigger picture here.
After those fifteen minutes, I endure twenty minutes with his wife while she shows me her art collection. Adeline is nowhere in sight, and when I finish with Sarah, I find her sipping wine alone on the terrace.
She turns when she hears my approach. “You’re finished your tour?” I don’t miss her delight.
Not bothering with an answer to her question, I say, “We’re leaving.”
“Your mother just texted me. It reminded me that she asked me to get you to call her earlier. I’m sorry I forgot.”
Adeline’s apology catches me by surprise. That, and the genuineness in it. I can’t recall an apology from her to date. She does like my mother, though, so I assume that’s where this is coming from. And that’s something I appreciate. “I spoke with her a few hours ago.”
She finishes her wine. “Good.” She glances past me into the condo. “Okay, let’s go. I’m tired and I still have work to do.”
I usher her out after we say our goodbyes. My eyes are on her ass while I follow her. I hope to God she never wears this dress again, or one like it. I also need to locate her bottles of perfume and throw them all out. Between the dress and her scent, I’m finding it difficult to concentrate. And right now, with all the work issues I’m dealing with, I need to fucking concentrate.
This marriage has already distracted me enough over the last few months. I’m convinced that’s why my hotels are in the state they’re in.
We drive home in silence and when we arrive, Adeline rides up in the elevator alone while I take a call in the car that comes in from Hudson. Fifteen minutes later, I’m greeted by Jeff when I step off the elevator. He details a few issues that cropped up today before saying, “As for Mrs. Fox’s belongings, she’s assured me you’ll help her with them.”
I frown. “Help her how?”
“I phoned her when they arrived earlier and asked her for guidance on where to put everything. I followed that guidance, but as you’ll see, there’s just not the room for everything. She advised you’ll take care of it for her.”
Christ.
“Thank you, Jeff. I will.”
I stride down the hallway to the bedroom in search of my wife and all her belongings.
When I reach the bedroom, I come to a dead stop as I take in the boxes piled everywhere in there.
She will be the fucking death of me.
“Adeline,” I bellow, unable to stop myself as I push past boxes. There are so many of the fucking things I can barely move. I also can’t see the bed because they’re stacked three high in some places.
When she doesn’t respond, I assume she’s in her bathroom, so I make my way to it. Not an easy feat.
The bathroom door is closed, and I can hear the shower running.
“Adeline,” I call out as I knock on the door. When she still doesn’t respond, I bang harder and raise my voice. “Adeline!”
“What?”
“Get your ass out here. We need to speak.”
