Thirty-Seven
Hayden
This could have been the very worst idea I’d ever had. There was no doubt Avery had been shocked to see me on the main deck. I should have expected it, I supposed. I’d just thought I might see something other than shock. I thought that her professional exterior might melt a little and I’d see that she loved me—as I loved her.
“Can I get you a top up, Mr. Wolf?” Skylar asked as she tipped the bottle of champagne toward my glass.
“Thank you,” I replied. “Where’s Avery?” I kept my voice low and quiet so only she and I could hear. Avery had disappeared as soon as she’d shown us to our table. Skylar and August had served lunch. Was she avoiding me?
“She’s in the galley,” she replied.
Brad had regularly invited me to join him on his yacht. I’d always declined, but this time I’d preempted his request and told him I’d been very happy with Captain Moss and that he should consider chartering the boat he was captaining. Brad had taken my suggestion and I’d accepted his subsequent invitation, although I’d declined a stay over.
Once I’d started to make things right, attempted to neutralize some of the poisonous things Cannon had done in order to bring me down, I’d been desperate to see Avery, and getting on a yacht was the quickest way I knew how. As soon as I’d laid eyes on her all my feelings magnified and multiplied and more than ever I realized what an idiot I’d been. Avery Walker wasn’t capable of betraying anyone. I knew that, had always known it deep down, so why had I accused her? I’d let the dirty tricks of a business rival color everything around me and in the mindset where everyone was either a suspect or guilty, I’d lashed out. Avery had borne the brunt of my frustration with Cannon and my desire to defeat them.
I’d tried to rehearse an apology on the plane ride over, but I hadn’t been able to get the words to fit together properly. I couldn’t think of a single reason why she’d forgive me. But I had to try. I couldn’t just walk away.
As lunch finished up, I said my goodbyes to Brad and his wife and the other guests and excused myself. Instead of heading straight off the yacht, I made my way inside, making some excuse about using the loo. I spotted the entrance to the galley and my heart began to clatter in my chest. I didn’t want to get her in trouble, but I wasn’t about to leave this boat without having a conversation with her.
I exhaled when I saw her sitting at the table, writing notes in her neat handwriting, the profile of her perfect ponytail exposing that long, soft neck. “Avery,” I said.
She closed her eyes in a long blink, and then she turned and looked up at me as if it were the last thing she wanted to do. Her resistance plowed an ache deep within me. I wanted her, needed her. Did she hate me? Was I irredeemable?
She glanced across the room and my eyes followed hers. There was a guy in the kitchen I didn’t recognize, though his eyes were fixed on me and Avery. He grinned and turned his back on us as he continued with his work.
“Can I have a word?” I asked, focusing my attention on Avery. “Perhaps you’ll see me off the yacht?"
“Of course.” Her professional smile overrode her sadness as she slid out from the table, then led the way off the Venus. I wasn’t sure which I preferred—her sorrow or a smile that wasn’t real.
She led the way as we walked off the deck and down the stairs. She stopped when we got to the bottom, folding her arms and inspecting the wooden slats of the jetty.
“Let’s walk,” I said. I’d forgotten what it was like to be this close to her, how much I liked having her by my side, walking, working, fucking. I liked doing everything with her.
When we were out of sight of the yacht, I stopped.
“I have an apology to make that’s so big it had to be made in person.”
She glanced up at me, her eyes narrowing.
“I know you didn’t accept the money from Cannon,” I said.
She stayed perfectly still. She didn’t even blink.
“I know you’re not capable of such a thing. I should never have questioned it in the first place. I knew you better than that.”
She closed her eyes and shook her head. I wasn’t sure if she was blocking me out or telling me she wouldn’t forgive me.
“I don’t know what to say.” I wasn’t used to apologizing. I was rarely wrong, but I’d never been so sorry and I’d never been so wrong. And I needed her to believe me. I needed not to have messed up so badly that I’d lost her forever. “I’m so sorry. I’m an arsehole and I fucked everything up.” The words spluttered from my mouth in a desperate attempt to say everything all at once. “I trusted you. I loved—love—you. I knew you were on my side. I don’t know what happened.” Looking back, I didn’t know why I’d doubted her. Everything she’d said made sense. “I think there was so much going on, my focus was all off and I couldn’t see the truth when it was right in front of me.”