Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 164263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 821(@200wpm)___ 657(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 821(@200wpm)___ 657(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
“What?” I frown.
“Oh, you look good too.”
I snatch the phone from him to see a photo of the two of us just after we got engaged, I think Charlotte took this photo. We are in the garden, drinking champagne, and his arm is around me, we are both laughing and my ring is front and center. “I didn’t know he was using this photo?” I frown.
“You don’t like it?” Jonty takes his phone back and studies it again.
“No, I do. I just assumed he would have gotten approval that I wanted to use it.”
Jonty smiles as he stares at the photo. “As if he would ask for permission for anything.”
Hmm….
Even Jonty has an opinion of Edward.
My phone lights up on my desk as a call comes in. Thomas Stone.
Actually…I could use a Thomas pep talk right now. “Hello.”
“Hey.” I can tell he’s smiling. “I just read a very interesting story about a future Mrs. Prescott.”
“Ha.” I hold my finger up to Jonty. “Back in a minute.” I walk past Philippe. “Just going to sit and have a coffee in the café. You can watch me from here, I’ll sit by the window.”
He glances around. “Yeah, okay.”
I rush out into the street. “Oh my god, thank god you called,” I whisper.
“Are you on cloud nine?”
“I was until I saw my ex this morning.” I try to keep my voice down.
“You think you’re marrying the wrong guy?”
“No,” I scoff. “Nothing like that. Hang on.” I put the phone down and ask the server, “Hello, can I just grab a table by the door please?”
“Sure thing.” She leads me to a table and I sit down. “A café Americano, please.”
“Of course.”
“What’s going on?”
“So…I need you to tell me I’m being an idiot.”
“Why?”
“Well, Edward and I, we are so in love and it feels right, you know?”
“Okay,” he replies.
“And he took me home to meet his family in London and he spontaneously asked me to marry him and gave me his mother’s engagement ring.”
“What?” He gasps. “Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
“My god, congratulations.”
“I have a problem now.”
“What?” He listens. “So….”
“On the way to work this morning I ran into my ex, Pascal.”
“Is this the guy you ran into in Paris?”
“Yes.”
“Why is this guy running into you everywhere?”
“I don’t know. But he said that he thinks that Edward only asked me to marry him to cover up a scandal.”
“Oh, fuck off,” he scoffs, “Jilted lover much.”
“You think?”
“He’s such a fuckwit. Do not listen to this asshole.”
“It’s really upset me.”
“Why would he say that to you? Even if you thought it, you would never say it unless you were purposely trying to hurt someone’s feelings.”
“You think?”
“I know. Alora, let’s break down what he actually said…he thinks that the only reason someone would ask you to marry them is because of a scandal.”
“I guess.”
“And that someone like Edward Prescott couldn’t possibly love someone like you.”
“Basically.”
“Fuck. Him.”
I smile, feeling better. “You think?”
“Babe, if Edward Prescott didn’t want to get married, not even the devil himself could make him do it.”
“You’re right.” I feel a weight lift off my shoulders. “God, I’ve had the worst day.”
“Honestly…. This ex of yours is a narcissist. You dodged a bullet with that one.”
“Yeah, perhaps you’re right.” I smile. “Thank you, I feel like I can’t talk to anyone. You have such a great perspective on things.”
“Lucky you’ve got me as a friend, then, isn’t it?”
“It is. When do you get back?”
“I fly in on Friday. I’ve got the weekend off; do you want to grab a coffee or something?”
“Sure.”
“Hey, congratulations, babe. I’m so happy for you. Enjoy this special time and don’t let anyone steal it from you.”
He’s right.
“Thank you.” I smile down the phone, feeling happy for the first time today. “I’ll see you on the weekend.”
“Okay, bye.” I hang up and my coffee arrives, and I hold my hand out and look down at it, finally I can sit here and stare at my beautiful ring in peace.
5 P.M.
Jonty and Helene stand at the window and peer out onto the street. “Another carful just pulled up.”
“Surely not,” I stammer as I nervously reapply my lipstick. “What the hell are they all doing here?” I pull my fingers through my hair and straighten my skirt. “Damn it, I should have worn something nicer.”
A swarm of activity has begun outside, paparazzi are gathering out the front of my store. “Get back,” Philippe instructs them as he holds his hands out to direct them the distance he wants them to stay away.
“How do they even know who I am?” I frown as I dial Edward’s number.
“It wouldn’t be hard to find you, they just have to google your name,” Helene calls.
“Hello, Miss Sorenson,” he purrs through the phone.
Butterflies swirl at the sound of his voice, it’s so damn delicious that I can’t stand it. “Hello.” I swoon.