Page 6 of An Inevitable Marriage
Laughing, albeit a bit crazed, was far better than crying.
Although I might have had something to cry about, I sure as hell wouldn’t do it in public.
I’d wait until I was home to tell Anthony how the conniving little Fiona had stolen the Nouvelle Femme event from me and got me fired.
Well, that’s not one-hundred-percent correct. I got myself fired when I threw a stapler at her and accused her of sleeping with the boss to get the contract.
Not my finest moment, I admit.
But something unexplainable had come over me when an event I’d been planning for almost six months was suddenly yanked away from me because Mr. freaking Maxwell, CEO of Nouvelle Femme, insisted Fiona take over.
Fiona, who was fresh out of school with her perfect body and zero freaking experience.
If I sounded bitter, it was because I was.
Nothing I had came easy. Girls like me had to work ten times as hard to prove our worth. All because we didn’t look exactly like the girls who graced the covers of beauty magazines. All because we were judged by our bodies rather than our brains.
So sue me if I got a little emotional over a “cover girl” like Fiona swooping in and taking something from me I’d worked my ass off for.
The mere thought of it had the backs of my eyes stinging just as another terrifying bolt of lightning cracked through the almost-black sky.
With a jolt, I blinked the tears away, quickly lowered my hand, and hurried inside my apartment building.
I didn’t need the wrath of Thor or whoever else I angered by flipping off the clouds.
I’d had enough drama to last me two lifetimes, thank you very much.
With my arms crossed tightly over my chest, I went to the apartment where Anthony and I lived. Things between us might have been a bit…distant lately, but I knew he’d at least allow me to vent about my day. If I was lucky, his head wouldn’t be stuck in whatever he was working on, and he’d comfort me a little.
Heaven knew I could do with a whole lot of comfort.
Typically, when things went south in my life, my bestie, Natalie, was the first person I’d call, but she’d been so busy living her best damn life with her new job and her infuriatingly sweet husband, I didn’t want to bother her.
Besides, I did not need another visual of him unable to keep his hands to himself without caring who was watching.
Because that only reminded me Anthony and I didn’t have that can’t-keep-our-hands-off-each-other relationship. We never had. But that didn’t mean there was no chemistry.
Or did it?
I reached our door before I could explore the thought any further. And as I made my way into the apartment, I decided there was nothing to explore. I’d had a shitty day, and my thoughts reflected that.
That’s all there was to it.
Toeing off my soggy shoes, I shrugged out of my wet jacket. I was halfway done with my sweater when a loud groan echoed down the hall.
Immediately followed by, “Oh fuck, yes. Just like that.”
Now I wasn’t stupid enough to believe Anthony didn’t watch porn, ever. He was a guy, after all. Plus, he’d been on me to watch it with him. “For inspiration,” he’d said.
At the time, I couldn’t find the words to tell him how watching it made me feel like I wasn’t enough of a turn-on for him. ThatIwasn’t enough to get him off.
Another deep groan sounded, dragging me from my thoughts.
Maybe it was time to try something different. Could be good for me after the morning I’d had.
I stepped out of my wet clothes and went to the main bedroom. I pulled the elastic from my hair and quickly shook the damp strands before gently pushing open the door.
Nothing on this earth could have prepared me for the image before me. Nothing.
