Page 43 of The Billionaire's Bride
"I still can’t believe you threw him out," Isla stares up at me from the corner of the dressing room in my studio. I glance at the door of the studio for, like, the hundredth time in the last hour. Will I ever feel safe in here? I mean, it’s silly. Since those guys had broken in, Baron had insisted that Karina, Arpad’s wife who runs a security agency, beef up the security on the place, and I had agreed. The door is reinforced, and all of my students have to be buzzed in, which does make me feel safer.
Still, this is where Edward was shot, and that…is something I don’t think I am going to forget anytime soon. At least, I still have the space. If it were up to Baron, he’d have moved me to a completely new studio…at his expense. Not that I’d have allowed him to do that. I don’t want to feel beholden to him… Or to Edward. In any form, right now.
Shit, stop thinking about him and Baron. This is supposed to be a complete break, remember?
When Isla had dropped by, carrying two cups of coffee, it had been a welcome break between classes. She’d tried reaching me by phone, then when I hadn’t answered the phone, she’d decided to drop by. For the past half an hour, I have been trying to explain the situation to her, or rather, trying to justify the reason behind what I had done, both to her, and I suppose, to myself. And it had been the right thing. It has to be, right? If I can’t stop getting intimate with either of them when I see them, then clearly, this arrangement isn’t working.
"I kissed Baron," I repeat, "then I walked into the house and made out with Edward."
"So?"
"So?" I scowl at her. "Seriously, Isla, that doesn’t sound right to me."
"You are too influenced by what society thinks."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"I mean, just because conventional wisdom dictates that you can be only with one man at a time—"
"For a reason," I look her up and down, "I mean, how would you feel if Liam carried on with you and another woman—"
She scowls, holds up a finger, "Firstly, don’t talk about that bastard. And secondly," she holds up another finger, "heiswith another woman. He’s getting married, remember?"
"How are the arrangements going?"
"He showed up for the first rehearsal, but I haven't seen him since. I feel sorry for his fiancée."
"Thought you didn't like his fiancée."
"I don't."
"Then why are you defending her?"
"Dunno, maybe I just think that she deserves better."
"Really?" I peer into her features.
She nods. "I mean, it can't be easy being engaged to the jerkass. He's, apparently, told her that she can do what she wants. He doesn’t care." She flips her hair over her shoulder, "I mean, he’s paying for all of it. The least he can do is make sure he’s getting his money’s worth."
"Maybe he trusts you?"
"Not likely, considering I barely know the man." She snorts, "In fact, I am beginning to empathize with his fiancée."
"You are?"
She nods, "She’s a lovely girl, actually. A bit naïve; he’ll probably chew her up and spit her out."
"But not you?"
"Huh?" She frowns.
"He’d have met his match in you?"
"Stop." She glowers at me. "Don’t go turning the spotlight on me, bitch."
"Yeah, okay." I raise my shoulders. "I tried. I mean, your love life is far more interesting right now."
"Ha, ha," Isla deadpans. "That’s a joke, right?"
