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Simon turned to Jack. “I know I should have said something when I called but I didn’t want to risk her doing another runner. She never told me she was pregnant.”
“Because you had a wife!” Jules exploded in fury. “A wife you kept mum about the whole time we were together.”
Good thing Lili had moved in close to Jack because her hand on his arm was the only thing stopping her brother from doing some major violence to Simon. Evan made a sound of clear discontent in the wake of Mummy’s raised voice. She turned to take him from Tad’s arms, but he held on.
“How about Jack takes Evan inside with everyone else while we sit down and talk about this?” Tad’s expression was hard and she realized in that moment, her friend saw her differently and everything had changed.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Jack bit out.
“Evan doesn’t need the negative energy and Jules shouldn’t be left alone with…” Tad jerked his chin over Evan’s head at Simon.
Her two favorite men in the world were squaring off over the right to champion her.
Sweet, but so not the time, boys.
“Tad, could you take Evan into the house and give him some crackers?” She fished in her bag for a baggie of snacks, thankful for the moment to bury her hand and allay the tremble. “Jack, I’d like to speak with Simon. Alone.”
“Not happening.” The muscle tic that was one of his anger tells jumped like the clappers in his jaw.
“Jack,” she pleaded.
Lili rubbed her husband’s arm and he straightened. “Better make the most of it, St. James, because it’s going to be your last fucking conversation.”
“Jack, please. Not now.”
Tad leaned in and the scent of him almost undid her. “You going to be okay? I could stay.”
She gave a slight nod and steeled her spine to a titanium rod. She needed to ride this wave solo. With one last blade of a look, Jack walked into the house followed by Tad with Evan, leaving her alone with her ex, who wasn’t really her ex. Looking back, she knew she had never been his girlfriend, just a shameful booty call. Maybe she wasn’t the kind of girl who inspired devotion.
He gestured to a seat at the large picnic table, already laden with the brunch fixings of juice and champagne for Mimosas. She hid her grim smile at how easily he slotted into the role of host. Your master of ceremonies for the most awkward chat of the century—Simon St. James, ladies and gentleman!
She took a seat and smoothed her clammy hands on her thighs. The silence circled like a vulture above them.
The last time she’d seen him had been the day she went to tell him about Evan. Well, Evan was no bigger than a fingernail at that point—he wasn’t her Evan just yet—but he was inside her, sucking up nutrients and making her ill and basically ensuring he was the Demon before he had even arrived. She had kept her pregnancy to herself for more than two weeks, mainly because Simon’s attitude to her had changed of late. He had been calling her less, making excuses not to see her, easing her out of his life. She recognized that now. When he had ignored her messages for two days straight, she had bitten the bullet and gone to see him.
Walking through his restaurant, one of those warehouse bistros in Islington, with her hand over her still-flat belly, excitement had trumped her fear. Sure it was too soon and Simon hadn’t promised anything, but he would make it better. Soothe and hold her and cook her something that wouldn’t make her want to barf every ten minutes. He would be the guy to save her.
The woman she encountered in his office was stunning, the kind of beauty that poets write about. Alabaster skin, raven hair, confidence borne of breeding. Before Jules could utter a word, Simon was jumping forward, his hand on her elbow to introduce his wife, Magda.
His very pregnant wife.
Jules is Jack’s sister, Magda,he had said.She’s looking for a job.
In ten words, he diminished her to nothing but an unfortunate job-seeker who needed to rely on her brother for employment.
Next thing, he steered her out of the office, explaining as he went. The strain of his hours at the restaurant and her job flying transatlantic twice a week had been unbearable. They had been on a break so he was completely blameless in his actions with Jules, but it was a delicate situation, don’t you see? The slightest hint of impropriety—impropriety!—would ruin everything, especially as Magda’s first pregnancy two years ago had been so difficult.
He already had a child and now another one on the way with his beautiful, aristocratic wife.
And Jules loved him enough to give him every opportunity to make his marriage work and hated herself for being so stupid as to think he understood her. He hoped they could be friends—not just yet, but later when things were on a more solid footing with Magda— and she had smiled that distant smile she turned on with previous lovers. The man who had known her so well didn’t know the difference.
Now he was here at her brother’s home, rocking her world all over again. “How did you find out?”
“A few weeks ago, theTimesran an interview with Jack about how he’s adjusted to life after giving up the fame game.” There was a tinge of jealousy in his tone, so nothing new there. “He talked about his family. You, his wife, his nephew. I went to see your old flatmate and she confirmed you were pregnant when you left London a couple of years ago. I Googled you and found a picture of you with the kid at a wedding a few months ago. The resemblance…well, there was no doubt.”
“You should have called to say you were coming.”
He looked at her like she was mad. “I called to give you a chance to come clean, to do the right thing, Jules, but no. And I’ve been leaving messages for the last two weeks.” He moderated his voice but it didn’t moderate the fury etched on his features. “You were always such a brat. Whining because Jack wouldn’t visit more often, because you’d had it so rough. Little girl lost with her rich and famous brother, working that crappy job in that dive bar, trying to prove a point. You were so bloody stubborn, so it doesn’t surprise me that you’d use this. What did you do? Come crying to Jack when it didn’t work out between us?”
