Page 52 of Tempting All The Way

“I understand that. How about I just clear some closet space for you, and you can start leaving some of your things here?”

“I can do that, but do you really think you can live with less closet space?” I ask. Xavier has more clothes than a men’s department store.

“I will live without anything as long as I have you.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Ididn’t admit it at the time, but giving Shardonnay the week off was fucking hard. I didn’t realise how much I’ve come to rely on her brilliant organisational skills. She is hands down the most efficient secretary I’ve ever had, even with the extended lunch breaks we take.

She’s somehow managed to catch up on everything she missed, or anything I fucked up in her absence. Within two days, we were back up and running as usual.

I don’t know how I’m going to cope with that kind of stress, with worrying about her health for a whole week every month. Does she get sick like that every time? That’s tough.

I’ve made an appointment with a gynaecologist. I need to understand what’s happening to her body. I need to be better prepared to help her. I also need to let her know about the upcoming appointment.

Not today though. Today is Friday, and as soon as I get this meeting with Andrew Mathers over with, I’m knocking off early. I’ve been trying to lock Andrew in for a meeting for the last couple of weeks and he’s been evasive as all hell.

“Mr Christianson, Mr Mathers is here for you, sir,” Shardonnay’s voice comes through the speaker. I swear she adds thesirpart on purpose, because she knows how hard it makes my cock to hear that word from her mouth.

“Send him in please, Miss Mitchell.” Is it too soon to ask her to change her last name? Probably, judging by the wholemove in with meconversation.

I know why she’s attached to the shitty apartment she rents, which is why I bought it for her. The deed is in her name. That apartment will always be hers; she can go back there whenever she needs to feel close to her mum. That’s not something I ever want her to part with. I do, however, want her to move in with me. I want my place to becomeourplace. I want her touches on every room I enter.

The door opens and I stand from my desk. “Andrew,” I acknowledge the man. “Have a seat.” I nod to one of the chairs in front of me.

“Xavier, are we ready for trial next week?” he asks.

“About that… that’s why I wanted you to come in. I need to show you some things.” I hand him a copy of the file my PI compiled for me. “I know you didn’t want to believe it, but it’s all there. Your wife stole your money and ran, Andrew. This is the evidence we need to clear you of the charges.”

“I… where did you get these from?” he asks.

“A private investigator. Thatisyour wife, isn’t it? In the pictures?”

“Yes, but that doesn’t prove she stole the money.” He’s still defending her. And I can’t help but wonder if love really does make you that fucking blind. To the point that the evidence can be laid out in front of you, and you still won’t believe your other half would betray you.

“The bank account we managed to trace led to the guy in the photos.” I gesture to the man in question, my eyes staring ahead at Andrew and not at the series of explicit photos between us.

Andrew shuts the folder. “What does this mean? For me?”

“First, we submit this evidence to the prosecuting attorney, get the investigation directed at your wife. Second, I’d advise you to file for divorce. I can recommend a family attorney—the best in fact.”

“Yeah, okay. Let’s do that,” he says, his voice broken.

“I’m sorry, Andrew. I know this isn’t what you wanted. But this keeps you, an innocent man, out of jail,” I tell him, rising from my chair and manoeuvring around the desk.

“Thank you.” He shakes my hand and walks out of my office.

Following behind him, I wait until my client is out of earshot. “Shardonnay, we’re finishing early today. We have a gala to attend.” I turn back around and head over to my desk. I need to shut down my computer and pack my briefcase. The sound of the door closing has me turning around.

“What do you mean we have a gala to attend?” Shardonnay asks, with her arms crossed over her chest.

“Exactly that. There’s a charity gala I’m expected to be at tonight,” I tell her.

“Well, you have fun with that. I can’t go to a gala, Xavier.”

“Actually, you can and you will. It’s in the rules, Shardonnay. If I need you to attend an event, you will come and act appropriately while there,” I remind her of the revision I typed up just for her.

“You can shove your rules where the sun doesn’t shine. I can’t go to a gala. I don’t even have a dress. I don’t even know what one wears to a gala.”

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