Page 5 of The Marriage Deal
"Oh, Wyatt…"
Was that…
The wine bottle in my hand almost slipped to the floor, but I caught it at the last second.
"Fuck…"
That was Wyatt. Iknowhis voice from anywhere. Iknowhis voice when he is… My steps led me out of the living room. I didn't want to go. I didn't want to find out, but my body had a will of its own. I followed the moans and reached the bedroom. They were so callous that they had left the door open. Theyprobably didn't care anymore. Because it took them a while tonoticeme. Meanwhile, I was frozen at the threshold, watching as my friend rode my boyfriend's cock to ecstasy.
Wyatt was the first toseeme. He froze, his hands on Billie's butt as he whipped his head to the door toseeme standingthere. He flung Billie off him like a kid caught playing with a doll he shouldn't be playing with.
"Elle…"he said, but I was already running out of the apartment.
2
Levi
IT WAS TOUGH TO concentrate on work knowing she was about to say yes to that dufus. I could have said something. I could have done something. Come up with an excuse to keep her here all night, but what would that achieve? He would propose the next time they were together, and then what would I have accomplished? She would add it to all the other reasons she hated me, and I would deserve her ire.
I should have told her then and there why she should not marry him, but the words refused to come out. Elle had the uncanny ability to get me tongue-tied at the oddest moments. I don't know how to explain it, but there was something about her that made me want to protect her.From what? Men like you, another voice said. I ignored it and tried to get back to work again, but before I could, a call came through. The phone rang for so long that I shouted, "Miss Edwards!" only to remember that she was not around.
I cursed and answered the phone. "Levi Hawthorne speaking."
"Professor Hawthorne!" The English-accented voice sounded surprised to hear me, even though I was sure it was me they were calling to get. "Professor Hawthorne!" They said again.
"That's me."
"My name is Elizabeth Froume from the MMQ Society. We've been trying and failing to get an appointment with you."
I groaned inwardly. I had given Elvira express instructions not to send through anyone who wanted to discuss my interview and to block anyone from a historical society. I guess she had done a good job because this was the first time I had heard about this Society trying to get into contact with me.
"MMQ?"
"Mistresses' Mothers and Queens Historical Society. We are mainly focused on the preservation of the history of women during the Plantagenet and Tudor period."
"I've never heard of you." I wasn't in tune with what historical societies were around, but most usually focused on one person, usually a king, or a period.
"We are fairly new," the caller said.
"Right…" My hackles were rising. She could be a troll, and I was ready to end the call, but her high p accent and polite tone gave me pause.
"You're a hard man to reach."
"I've been busy these past few weeks," I said.
"Of course. And I understand. I wanted, we wanted, to know if you'd like to speak to us."
"You're speaking to me now." And if she was suggesting a talk, she was shit out of luck, because I wasn't doing those in the near future.
"You're a blunt man, Professor, I like that. We at the MMQ society saw your interview and—"
"I was misrepresented." I was about to end the call there and then. I didn't want to talk about that fucking interview anymore.
"And we agree. We believe in the claims you made in your book. Unlike a certain society that shall not be named, your claims hold water compared to those silly letters people are waving about."
"Okay. I am listening."
Elizabeth took a deep breath. "So we know that you are a scholar of not only the War of the Roses, but of Richard III. And unlike some of his fans, we know you see him for the flawed man that he is. And as such, you'd be better suited to help us with the project we are working on."
