Page 16 of Sinful Beauty

“Let’s get a breath of fresh air.” He doesn’t wait for me to answer, but maneuvers me to a side door.

Outside, the air is brisk, and he clasps his hands together and breathes on them. I’m caught in a surreal moment.

“Do you have any questions for me?” With those ruddy cheeks, he looks bloody happy. Outside on the patio, telling his son he’s cheating on his mother, he looks as happy as he did inside sipping wine.

“Are you and mum getting a divorce?” I’m in my thirties, I’ll survive. I hardly ever see them together, but what a load of rubbish.

“No. No. There’s no need for anything like that.”

I cock my head, unsure I heard him right. “Say that again?”

“Oh, Tristan. Come now. These are modern times. And at your age, this can’t be much of a surprise. Your mother and I have had an open marriage for decades. Cassandra is simply the first who has, well, she’s important to me. I plan to spend the rest of my life with her.”

“Why not divorce?”

“That would be expensive. And not at all necessary. Your mother lives at the Wagner estate. Cassandra and I live at her place. There’s no need to go through splitting assets. We have one heir.”

I truly can’t believe I’m hearing this.

“Come now. Do I need to tell you we both love you? That this doesn’t change how we feel about you?”

He’s making light of the moment, and I smother the urge to pummel the bastard. I let out a sigh and pace the ground. Through the window, Cassandra watches. I don’t know her well, and can’t be certain what she’s thinking. But I imagine she’s concerned.

But should she be? Dad’s right in his own way. My parents never spend time together. My mum is married to work and isn’t showing any sign of slowing down. To the contrary, she’s roaring forward with a start up on the brink of something significant. And my dad desires long lunches and walks in the park.

“Is this going to be a problem?”

“Mom knows?” I need the verification.

“Yes, she does.”

“Is she—” I stop myself because I don’t want to know if she’s seeing anyone. I glance back at the restaurant window. My appetite evaporated. “I tell you what. Can you give Cassandra my regards? I’m sure she’s a lovely woman. And yes, I am going to be fine with this. I want you to be happy. You deserve happiness. But I need some time to wrap my head around this…situation.”

“I didn’t mean to spring it on you. I just…honestly, I didn’t expect you to be surprised.”

“Right.” I take stock. I’m not sure what I’m feeling. Flabbergasted? Thrown? “I suppose either you and Mum did a better job keeping that part of your lives under wraps than you thought or maybe I’m not nearly as observant as…” I let my words trail, clap him on the shoulder one last time and stroll away. I possess superior observational skills and pride myself on reading people. How the bloody hell did I miss this?

Chapter6

Lucia

“Evening love.” William greets me with a warm smile. A white towel drapes a shoulder and his meaty hands grip the edge of the bar, giving the impression he’s bracing himself against it. But I’ve been coming here long enough I’m quite aware that’s not the case. He’s got the instincts of a therapist and he’s waiting for me to take a seat so I can tell him all about my problems.

Outside, the winds blow strong with a storm system from the north barreling in. Inside, gas lamps hanging on the wall burn golden, the television screens light up with activity, and there’s a hum of patrons from the tables, but I’m the only one at the bar.

“What can I get ya?”

“The normal.”

He doesn’t turn to pour me a bottle but remains fixed in place, watching as I unravel my crocheted scarf I’ve looped too many times around my throat.

“Shite day at the office?”

“You could say that.” The surprise appearance of Mrs. Wagner and her son threw some kinks in my day, not to mention my boss’s mood.

Drama at the executive level doesn’t ruffle me. Why should it? If Mr. Peltz’s worse fears are realized and he retires earlier than planned, I’ll have a new boss. Life changes. If it’s not one boss, it’s another.

The entire executive suite could play musical chairs, and my life would remain the same. As long as my work visa holds, my life remains the same.

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