Page 11 of The Billionaire's Baby
“Excuse me?” Adira wondered why his sister would approach her with such venom.
“Oh, you are such an innocent one. Let me guess, first time in the big city?” Hillary gave a cold laugh. “Let me elaborate. Favian is, how do you say, a collector of women. You are number four this month and, really, I wonder how you women fall for it each and every time! You fall into his bed willingly and then there’s the flowers once or twice and then nothing. You women are so simple minded. A great dinner and some sweet words and then your panties drop.”
It was as if ice water had been thrown in her face. All of it was a lie just to get me in bed? Adira felt tears prick her eyes but forced them back. She wouldn’t let the vile woman see her cry.
Adira raised her head and lied. “We both had an itch and we scratched it. I was going to grab some breakfast before I left, but since you’re here I won’t bother.”
“Well, don’t let me stop you. I mean, one more meal after sweating up the sheets is afforded to you,” Hillary said lightly.
Adira didn’t answer. She went back upstairs, still numb and reeling from knowing that she was such a fool. She let herself believe and once again she was dashed like a ship against the rocks during a storm. She firmed her shoulders and refused to let the tears fall as she slipped out of his shirt and into the dress from the night before. On impulse, she grabbed up the T-shirt and folded it as small as she could and pushed it into her evening purse. She should’ve left it, but somehow it felt like she was giving it all up and wanted to hold on to the memory of one perfect night. She made her way quietly down the stairs and slipped out of his house, thankful she didn’t have to talk to Hillary again. Thankfully, this time, she had no problem in hailing a cab and getting back to her hotel.
Once in her room, she fell across the bed and cried. “How can I be so stupid?”
After three hours of crying and thinking it over, staying in New York any longer seemed unbearable and she packed up and checked out three days earlier than expected. She spent the last of her money to change her ticket to a flight for that evening and she sat at the airport all day waiting.
By the time she got home, she was exhausted and only had enough money to take the bus home. All the while, her poor heart was aching and she could only call herself stupid over and over again. It was a fun fling and nothing more, just a bit of fun in the big city. But, as usual, Adira put her heart into it and it was smashed to bits. She made herself a cup f tea and looked out the small window of her flat into the cold rainy night of London. She had three days until she had to go back to work. Three days to heal and get over it and go back to her bland life. Vacation over, and the romance was nothing but a dream.
* * * *
Two months later and Favian was still reeling. He’d come home to find Adira gone. No note, only the wrinkled sheets to remind him of the night he’d had with her. The one woman who he’d shared a profound connection with and she’d disappeared. It left him in a bad mood. Everyone noticed it, even Hillary seemed to stay out of his way. Carol was the only one to show some sympathy, and when Remy came into the office and slammed the door, Favian knew that his bad mood had rubbed raw his best friend’s very last nerve.
“Go find her,” Remy snapped as he sat down.
“If she wanted me she would have been where I left her,” Favian snarled and then sighed. “Sorry, the first woman I’ve felt anything for in a long time and she decides to run away. Not only that, but she checked out of her hotel the same day and flew home to get away from me.”
“You don’t know. Something could have spooked her or maybe something came up and she had to leave. You won’t know unless you take your ass to London and ask her,” Remy said. “Seriously, Carol is planning a mutiny if you come in here like a snarling beast again. Even Hillary won’t come near you and I’d bet money she had something to do with it.”
“I haven’t scared her that much. She’s been crashing at my place while her place is being painted. You can’t blame her for everything, Remy. She wasn’t at the house when this happened.” Favian sighed. “Let’s face it. I was sucker punched by a pretty face and a British accent.”
Remy stood and went over to the black and gold marble bar that stood in the corner of the massive office. He poured them both a glass of the single malt scotch that Favian kept in the crystal decanter and brought it back to the desk.
“Drink this,” Remy said before he downed his own drink. “Yeah, whatever, something smells fishy and until it comes to light, you’re going to be an ass to deal with. It could all be settled if you would go find this woman and if she laughs in your face then you can lick your wounds and move on. As is, you are making yourself crazy and everyone around you murderous.”
