Perfect Chaos

Specifics. I need specifics. He left her to drown, but there’s more. “I can be an arsehole.”

“I hate to disappoint you, but you haven’t a snitch on that wanker.”

Damn, she’s being cagey. “Try me?”

“No.” She passes me, completely dismissing my attempts to draw more information out of her. Lainey hasn’t told me all that much. Just a bit, and that bit is enough to make me want to find the bastard and rip him a new arsehole. Maybe it’s best that I don’t know the rest.

I head back to Lainey’s room with our coffees and smile when I find her sprawled all over the bed on her back, taking up every available space. “Coffee?” I ask, perching on the side.

She blinks her eyes open and looks me up and down before she lazily pulls herself up and takes the mug from my hand.

I drink in her sheer perfection and go in for the kill. “I’ve been wondering something,” I say, trying to sound casual so not to worry her.

When she freezes and peeks out the corner of her eye, I know I’ve failed.

“What?”

“I’d like you to be my plus-one.”

“What?”

“My plus-one,” I repeat.

“To what?”

“A wedding.”

“Whose wedding?”

“My cousin’s.”

“When?”

“This Saturday.”

“Where?”

I gasp, exasperated by her twenty questions. “You want to see the seating plan too, before you decide?”

She scowls a little into her mug as she takes a sip. “It’s a bit risky, isn’t it?”

“No. There will be no one from work there. It’s just family, and friends of my cousin.”

“I’m busy.”

I drop my head back dramatically. “Really, Lainey?”

“Yes.”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m . . . it’s . . . I have . . . it’s just . . .” While it’s quite amusing watching her struggle to find an excuse, I’m quite ticked off that she doesn’t want to go.

“Why don’t you want to go?” I ask, reaching for her hand and threading our fingers.

“Why do you want me to?”

Her retort makes me pull up and ask myself the very same question. It takes roughly two seconds to find the answer. “Because I love spending time with you.” It’s the truth.

She sags a bit, and I definitely detect a small sigh. My answer pleases her, so if she even tries to fight me on this, I’ll fight her back. “I love spending time with you, too.”

“So you’ll go?” I ask hopefully.

“I’ll go.” She nods decisively, and I grin like a fool. Why the hell is she trying to fight this? The fact that she’s failing miserably is beside the point. There’s an instinct in her to push me away, and it’s an instinct I’m fighting with all I have.

“I’ll make it worth your while,” I promise.

“How?”

“That’s for me to know.”

She rolls her eyes and puts her coffee on the nightstand, before taking mine and placing it next to hers. Then she crawls onto my lap and wraps me in her arms, kissing my rough cheek. “So we have a date?”

I soak up her easy affection and fall back to the bed, taking her with me. Her weight feels so good spread all over me, and her lips were definitely made to be on mine. “We have a date,” I confirm, running through my plans. I’m going to make this the best date—one Lainey will never forget.FROM THAT THOUGHT, SATURDAY WAS my goal. Just get to Saturday and my opportunity to have her to myself all day. Of course, this means Friday drags painfully.

By six o’clock, I’m an agitated wreck. Everyone at work, the calls, the clients, the employees, and the meetings, are all obstacles in my way. And Sal is still a moody fucker. Clearly my advice to Moya didn’t sink in. I give up. Although I can’t berate Sal on his mood, since I’ve been short, curt, and impatient, too, which is ridiculous. It’s just a date. But it’s a date with the only woman I’ve ever actually wanted to date. And do a whole lot more with, for that matter.

I drop Lainey a message telling her how much I’m looking forward to spending time with her tomorrow, and I smile when she replies with a heart emoji. Do I wish she was in my bed tonight? Fuck, yes. I haven’t had her for two nights, but I’m exercising both self-control—failing—and trust. She told me she was going out with some of her friends for a thirty-fifth birthday dinner. And I’m choosing to believe that she is done with other men.

I stop off at Jermyn Street on my way home to pick up my new gray bespoke three-piece and buy a pair of socks that match the sky-blue tie I picked out. Now it’s time to kick the other part of my plan into action. Namely, primp and preen and make myself irresistible. Or even more irresistible.

Grabbing my suit, I jump out my car and strut into the lobby with a huge cheesy grin on my face, nodding at Egor and Herb as I pass their bemused selves on my way to the elevator. I whistle all the way to the top floor of my building, and virtually skip to my door, my suit bag tossed over my shoulder. As I let myself in, my phone rings, and I answer as I shoulder the door closed. “Mother.”