Page 128 of The Bad Wedding Date

Climbing out of the car, I felt Fraser’s intense grey eyes on me the entire time.

A minute later, and without knocking, I opened the heavy, dark grey door of my home, my black Converse hitting the white marble floor of the entranceway. My parents’ maid Gloria came rushing to my side, offering to take my coat with a huge smile on her face.

I couldn’t help but smile back.

Gloria had always been a favourite of mine. She and I used to sit in the library of this home whenever my parents were out, and we’d talk about all the books we appreciated and which ones had held our attention long after the final page had been turned. Like Fraser, Gloria had always had an appreciation for romance. I’d preferred the world of mysteries, thrillers, and murders.

Perhaps I was a perfect match for Fraser’s darker side after all.

“Charlotte,” Gloria cooed, pulling me out of my long black coat. I kept hold of my bag, insisting I’d need that by my side, but she could have the coat. Once she had it draped over her arm, she pulled me in for a one-arm hug, pressing her cheek to my shoulder before she pulled away with tears in her eyes. “I have missed you.”

I took in her uniform of black pleated trousers and crisp white shirt that matched her now-white hair. It had once been blonde, but far too many years had passed, and I hadn’t even bothered to stop by to check on this woman who had kept me company while I wallowed in my own misery.

“I’ve missed you, too, Gloria. You look amazingly well.”

“Lies. I look old and worn out.”

“Lies,” I countered.

She chuckled before she gestured to the main living room down the hall. “Your father and Master Ridgely are waiting in the main lounge for you.”

“Penn’s already here?”

“He’s been here a good hour, I’d say. He seems keen to be reunited with you.” Her eyes widened suggestively.

I rolled mine. “I highly doubt that, Gloria. You know Penn. He doesn’t recycle his women.”

“I would hope you wouldn’t want him to after what he did to you back then.” She stopped in her tracks and quickly slapped a hand to her mouth before letting it drop. “Charlotte, I’m sorry. That was out of line. I shouldn’t have—”

“It’s fine,” I said, cutting her off with a smile. “You’re absolutely right, and I don’t want anything from him except his balls on a platter.”

Pushing out her pursed lips, she gave me a curious look.

I laughed and patted her arm. “All in good time, Gloria. All in good time.”

I walked across the expansive hall and made my way to the equally immaculate living room. The double doors had been left open for me, and I didn’t even bother to take off my shoes when I stepped onto the plush cream carpet that all the matching cream furniture sat upon. Cream leather sofas. Cream drapes. Cream fireplace. Cream cushions. All of which were highlighted by touches of expensive silver and gold in perfectly placed positions. My mother wanted people to know she was rich, just not enough to deck the entire house out in twenty-four-carat gold.

At the sound of my arrival, both Penn and Dad turned to face me.

Despite wanting to stab him in the eyes with two forks, I couldn’t deny that Penn had the handsome thing going on. He stood there in smart grey trousers with a blue pressed shirt rolled up at the sleeves.

I’d never despised a creature more than I did him.

Penn Ridgely hired them,ran through my mind on a loop, and it took all the strength I had within me not to launch myself across the room and rugby tackle him to the floor. Over the last few days in our hotel room, Fraser had tried to teach me some self-defence tricks that he taught to the women who took his classes on an evening. I’d been so impressed by his ability to throw me around the room as carefully as he did that most of the time, the teaching turned to touching, and I’d always end up on my back, begging him to press himself between my legs.

Fraser never denied me.

The memory of him made a smile rise with ease, and that’s when I knew how to get through this meeting without letting myself slip. Whenever I wanted to hurt Penn, I’d think of Fraser.

“Charlotte,” Dad said with a beaming smile, holding one hand out for me to go to him while his other nursed a tumbler of whisky.

I walked his way, not looking at Penn as I did, but I could feel his eyes on me, no doubt taking in the casual look of pale blue jeans and a plain white T-shirt that hugged my breasts and waist in all the places he used to touch.

“Dad,” I said, offering him a small hug before I pulled away and finally turned to look at my ex-arsehole. “Penn.”

“Hey, Lottie,” he said, instantly making my toes curl. I forced myself to think of Fraser’s face above mine that morning, the longer lengths of his hair hanging over his face and his lips parted as he thrust in and out of me, just before he came and collapsed on top of my body. My smile grew.

“Hi,” I said, walking past him and sitting on one of the three cream sofas that surrounded a huge marble coffee table, placing my bag by my feet. To the right of me was the floor to ceiling window that overlooked the greenery of the perfectly manicured gardens. Mum had arranged the sofas to offer a viewing experience of the world outside, she’d always said. What she meant was that it offered her a chance to show off just how rich she and Dad were, and how good Billy the gardener and his team were at their jobs.

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