Page 51 of Forbidden Bastard
No drinks then. Charles strode down the hall, but his body was on auto pilot and he headed for his personal gym.
His muscle memory on how to fight negativity had taken over. As he entered the gym, he decided a few minutes of cardio might help more than drinking, or desserts.
Charles stripped off his shirt and pants. No one would see him in his boxer briefs and he started the elliptical to get his heart and body primed for more.
Five minutes into his routine, his phone rang.
Normally he would ignore the call, but Sandi was outside. He left the machine and dug through his discarded pants.
His body tensed as he read the name.
This was the last person he'd ever expected to hear from. He took his phone and headset, returned to his workout and answered Sheena, his ex, who immediately greeted him with, “Charles.”
A man’s cough sounded through the phone and Charles wasn’t stupid--a warning that her husband was also on the line. He continued to exercise while he lifted his chin and said, “Sheena. Matteo. I didn’t expect this call.”
Sheena's voice was the same as always when she said, “We wanted to thank you for the wedding invitation we received today.”
Polite. Formal. Business-like. Being a true lady only enhanced her speech pattern. He'd once found her attractive because she was a smart woman who was somehow into him. No surprise--he'd been a stand-in.
Charles sped up his machine and said, “You don’t have to come.”
“We want to, if it’s okay,” Sheena said. “We want to let the past go.”
None of it mattered. He’d leave for Paris soon. Avce would carry on just fine without him as if he never existed. “Look, I want to apologize if I hurt either one of you. Things were out of control then.”
Sheena sighed. “It’s fine. We’re good, and we’re both sorry we missed seeing you so happy with Sandi at the ball.”
Last night at the ball Sandi Smith had stolen his breath away and clearly been the one woman everyone remembered. Sheena must have heard that Sandi was "perfect" which she was. She'd stood by his side when she didn’t have to.
His gut twisted and he changed the subject. “Why did you both miss the royal event?”
Sheena said fast, “I…wasn’t feeling well. Doctor told me to rest but I’ll be at the wedding.”
Pregnant? Hmm. Wasn’t his business. He ended the elliptical session and went to his strength-training routine, starting with back extensions to work his lower back. He placed his phone on the floor on speaker. “Take care of yourself.”
Sheena asked, “So where is Sandi?”
And if he told them the relationship was over, the conversation would grow even more awkward. He flexed as he said, “She’s staying with her parents for the night.”
“Old-fashioned," Sheena laughed. "That’s an adjustment for you, Charles.”
“I was always attracted toladies,as you remember, Sheena.” Not that he’d ever measure up. He'd failed Sheena. He'd failed Sandi. He failed everyone.
Sheena sighed. “I… you and Matteo are alike in some ways. We just called to say congrats and that we’re excited for tomorrow.”
Right. This conversation had taken longer than necessary. And unlike him, Sheena was living her happily-ever-after. He’d never earn one of those. “I’ll pass along your message.”
He was about to hit the red button and end the call, but Sheena asked, “Charles?”
He finished the back flexes and headed toward his free weights as she said, “A few of my artists miss the compensation you found for their work after our business relationship ended.”
His mind stilled. When he left the title, his business might lose all the new connections and different goods he now moved. But running events to showcase artists had been fun and helping someone one-on-one had its own reward.
Perhaps Sheena offered a lifeline back to his old lifestyle where he procured buyers and took a fifteen percent commission for pieces he actually liked. He chose the fifteen-pounders to start and curled the first one. “Art was my primary means of making money for a long while. I’ll sign your artists, and you can go through one of my agents if you wish to start business again.”
Sheena’s voice grew more animated as she said, “I’d like that for them. You were always smart when it came to negotiations for the artists.”
This was a means of returning to his life in Paris.
