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“I’m sending an amendment to Lara’s contract. Once you’ve updated it please send a copy to the house for her to sign it.”
“Got it,” she replies crisply.
"This is an urgent matter, so it should be resolved before I return from the Four Seasons.”
“Of course.”
I end the call and just send off the email with the amendment to her when I see I have another call. My mother.
“Mama,” I greet.
“I’ve sent multiple messages. Why haven’t you responded?”
“I’ve been busy.” She can’t really complain further or contest this.
“The committee never received your RSVP. You are coming to the gala tomorrow night, aren’t you?”
I frown. It’s in my calendar, but I was hoping to avoid it.
“Ivan, are you listening?” my mother demands crossly. “I need a response.”
“I told you I’d try my best.”
“Ivan, you promised,” she complains. “I really want to see you. A lot of people want to see you. You’re never at these events.”
“For good reasons, Mother. Anyway, I only promised I’d be at your birthday getaway in France this weekend, not the gala.”
“No, you also agreed to the gala as well,” she lies blatantly.
I sigh deeply. “Can’t I just write a check?”
“No, I don’t want your money. I want your presence. The whole family will be there.”
“Even my father?” I murmur.
“Not him,” she says with cold fury. “He’s probably at some sunspot with his latest slut.” She takes a deep breath. “I actually just called to confirm your attendance, not to go back and forth about the guest list. Please don’t disappoint me this time.”
Without giving me a chance to respond, she ends the call.
I put my phone back into my pocket and stare reflectively out of the window. There is so much bitterness in my family. We can’t even be in the same room anymore.
I lean back and think about my next meeting. Yeah, it’s important, but I can already guess with 90% certainty whatJames and Steven are going to say, and it can wait until tomorrow, Wednesday, or Friday, or even next week.
I know it’s an absolutely terrible idea, but I cannot help myself. I rap on the partition glass and meet the chauffeur’s eyes through the rearview mirror, his expression expectant, waiting for my next instruction.
Chapter Thirty
LARA
Uggh… that man needs a punch to his smug face. Why does he have to be so damn hateful?
I don’t know what I thought, but after what happened last night, I certainly did not expect him to be so cold and impatient, as if he couldn’t wait to get rid of me. As if I was an irritating nuisance interrupting his busy day. He makes me feel so stupid and foolish, even when I’m discussing serious matters. We have a crazy arrangement between us so obviously I’m going to want to make sure I’m not signing anything that would cause me regrets for the rest of my life. Throwing the phone onto the bed, I take a deep breath and let go of my annoyance.
Main thing is, I made my stance clear.
Let him get on with running his great empire, I need food. I’m starving. I think back to the meal we were planning in the kitchen before we both lost our heads. I go over to the strawberries and bite into one of them. I can honestly say, I have never had a sweeter, juicier fruit in my life.
I move over to the window. Marveling at the amazing skyline and the city spread out under me, I eat a couple more, then take a shower. Under the heated cascade, it’s hard not to think of his touch on my body. After the way he spoke to me, it seems like I must have dreamed it. But in this enclosed space, with my eyes closed, I can still feel his hands on every inch of me so intensely that it becomes nearly impossible to breathe.