Page 21 of Love Me Ever After
“Emily, I’m so pleased to have caught you.”
I ground to a halt and turned to face her, plastering a fake smile on my face. “Barbara, hello. Is everything okay?”
“Oh yes, we’ve had such a good day.” She smiled, hers more genuine. “I wanted to chat to you about the possibility of the leadership training Robert mentioned at dinner. Are you available after lunch tomorrow?”
“Yes, I’ll be here. Say around half past two? I think that’s when the conference is due to finish,” I suggested.
“Perfect. Shall I come and find you?”
“Let’s meet in the bar for coffee.” By doing that, Sonya wouldn’t be able to listen in and take over.
“Lovely. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Barbara reached out and touched my arm. “You’ve done a fabulous job, Emily. I’ll share some more feedback with you when we meet, but I’m pleased to say that coming out of London has been good for all of us. Now Robert promised me a cocktail, so I’d best get back before he forgets.”
Her praise warmed me; glad their gamble had paid off. She walked back into the other room, leaving me alone in the hallway.
Scanning the immediate area for any sign of Mason, I let out a breath when it was empty. I headed out past reception, waving at the receptionist, hoping to get away without any further delays.
Twenty minutes later, I unlocked the front door of our house. The place was silent, no evidence of Sara being home and obviously Mason was still at the hotel. I went straight up to my room and stripped off my clothes, throwing them into my washing basket. Pulling on my dressing gown, I headed into the bathroom. First, I cleansed my face, taking off the remains of my makeup, then dragged my hair out of the ponytail I’d carefully styled that morning. After the session with Mason, it was now less than perfect. I turned on the shower and stepped underneath the warm jets, allowing them to wash away any evidence of that evening. Letting my head fall back, I replayed the events over in my mind. My treacherous body reacted in response to the memories, the throbbing between my legs intensifying as I recalled Mason fucking me. How he’d whispered in my ear as he took me from behind. How he’d commanded everything in that hotel room, especially me.
That’s all it was, I told myself.
A quick fuck.
Something physical, nothing emotional.
Then why did I end up swiping tears away from my cheeks? Pushing the thoughts away. Shower finished, I dried off, then found a pair of yoga pants and a hoodie.
Conflicting thoughts hit me.
I needed to get some sleep.
I needed to talk to someone.
I needed a drink.
The latter won out and I found myself back downstairs, exploring the contents of the fridge. I made an extremely strong vodka and tonic, tossing in a couple of ice cubes. Settling down on the sofa, I turned on the television, needing something on as background as I tried to figure out my confused feelings. I pulled my phone out of the pouch in my hoodie and fired off a message.
Ems: Hey, when are you coming home?
Sara: Sorry, hon. I’m staying at Noel’s tonight. Everything okay?
No. Everything wasnotokay. But I didn’t want to try to explain the whole mess over a message.
Ems: Yeah, all good. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow. Have fun with Noel. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t!
Like sleep with your ex and instantly regret it.
Sara responded with a few well-chosen emojis, aubergine included, and I sniggered in spite of myself.
The vodka was going down far too easily. It wasn’t too long before I hovered over Mason’s name, debating whether to send him a message. But what to say? I hadnoidea.
I don’t know how long I sat there, staring at the television screen without seeing what was on. When the front door opened and Mason came into the living room, I shouldn’t have been surprised, but he still made me jump.
“Hey.”
I glanced over at him, looking impossibly handsome in his tailored white shirt that clung to his muscular chest. Reaching for my glass, I gulped down what was left. “I should get to bed; I’ve got another busy day tomorrow.”
“Ems. Don’t you think we should talk about what happened?” Mason sank down at the other end of the sofa. He unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt and pushing the material up his arms. I wished he hadn’t done that. Now I was even more distracted by the tight muscles in his forearms.
