“And my hair?”
“I told them it was none of their business.”
Her shoulders curled inward as she dropped her head. “I told Evie I fell.”
“And your hair?” I parroted her words back to her.
“I have wigs. If she notices, I have it covered.”
“Well, maybe you should enlighten me so we’re on the same page.” I took a bite of salmon.
“I shaved my head in support of a little girl with cancer.”
I nodded. “Think she’ll believe it?”
Lila glanced up. “You better hope she does.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I dropped my fork onto my plate and blotted my mouth with the cloth napkin.
I had to give my wife credit; she didn’t back down.
“Either she believes me, or she suspects I’m being abused.”
“It was an accident.”
“You pinned me to the wall and twisted my arm to the point of breaking my wrist and dislocating my arm!”
I pounded my fist on the table and made her jump out of her disrespectful rage. “Enough!” Taking several slow breaths, I let my anger settle into control. “Did you not enjoy it?”
“I didn’t enjoy it,” she gritted between her teeth.
“You orgasmed.”
“If I give you a blowjob before slitting your throat, is it still murder?”
I really wasn’t trying to break anything. I just needed a release. It was, in fact, an accident. We’d had plenty of rough sex over the years. How was I supposed to know her screams were pain instead of pleasure when I did go out of my way to make sure she enjoyed it too?
Nothing.
Nothing was ever fucking good enough for her.
“If I left tomorrow … what would you do?” she asked, just above a whisper.
The legs of my chair whined against the hard floor as I scooted it back and stood. Leaning forward, I rested my fingertips on the table and cocked my head to the side.
“What would I do to you? Or what would I do to Evelyn and Ronin? Or maybe you’re concerned about the rest of her family. I believe sister dearest is pregnant. Although our mutual friend has failed to disclose that information to me yet. I’ll have a word with her. And the last I checked, her dad has a kidney I paid for, and those borrowed organs don’t last forever. So please … clarify whom exactly you’re referring to so I can give you the grim details of my plans for if my wife thinks she’s going to leave me.”
I wasn’t a total bastard. When she blinked, releasing a stream of tears, I plucked the napkin from her lap and dried them from her face before leaving her in the mess she made all by herself. As I reached the stairway, I called Jeremy.
“Bleach blond. Long hair. Five-six. Thin. Not too much makeup. And she needs to be wearing some sort of natural perfume that smells like flowers. Pick me up in an hour.”
I had a few drinks before Jeremy picked me up. It took impaired vision to overlook the fact that the woman waiting in the hotel room wasn’t actually Evelyn, just a knock-off. Although not a cheap one. The kind of woman who would let you do absolutely anything to her without ever leaking a single detail cost a fuck ton of money. Good thing I just so happened to have had a fuck ton of money always at my disposal.
My Evelyn knock-off stood at the end of the bed in the dimly lit hotel suite. I poured myself another drink and paused the glass an inch from my mouth. “Your name is Evelyn. Do you know how to make soap, Evelyn?”
She inched her head slowly side to side.
I took down the entire glass of whiskey. “You do. You know how to make soap.” I tugged at my tie as I crossed the room. “You know how to marry the wrong fucking guy. You know how to come in my mouth then act like it meant nothing. So why don’t you get on your knees and show me some goddamn respect for once?”
Evelyn got on her knees without me having to ask twice.
About damn time.
I unfastened my pants, grabbed her hair, and shoved my dick into her mouth. Closing my eyes, I leaned my heavy head back and let Evelyn treat me like I deserved to be treated after all I had done for her.
The next day I felt better. More controlled.
I signed two new bills into law and had a budget meeting.
“See this?” My chief of staff showed me an online publication with a photo of Lila and me leaving the hospital after her accident. There really wasn’t such a thing as a secure entrance. “Your secretary told me they called several times looking for a statement. Why am I just now seeing this? What happened?”
I continued walking toward my office, giving my tie a slight adjustment. “Do you want the official statement or the unofficial statement?”
“The truth.”
“She was attacked while jogging.”
“Shit … how did that happen? Where was her security detail?”
I sighed. “You know Lila. She’s a strong woman. I can’t tell you how many times she escapes without anyone knowing. Sneaks out a back entrance. What am I supposed to do? We’re just lucky it wasn’t worse. She’ll be fine.”
“Was she …”
I glanced back at him, internally rolling my eyes at his unfinished question. “Raped? No.”
“Do you want me to have an official statement released?”
“Do we really need one?” I nodded at my secretary before I opened the door to my office.
“Uh … yes. We need one. Otherwise you leave yourself open to speculation. And as charismatic as the world thinks you are, someone will start a rumor that you abused your wife.”
“Lila is spoiled.”
“Won’t matter.”
I plopped down into my chair and sighed. “Fine. Release a statement. Then get something else in the news cycle pretty fucking quick. Lila won’t like this attention.”
“Pictures will help too. Maybe the two of you at a restaurant looking happy. Take her to dinner tonight.”
I didn’t respond, but I was sure he took my frown as a reluctant yes. After he shut the door behind him, I called Lila.
She answered her phone with silence. Not a single hey or hello.
“Hey, sweetheart. Do something nice with your hair—er … wig—and makeup. We’re going to dinner tonight.” A term of endearment and a dinner invitation. If she sulked about it, that would be her problem. I did my part, giving her what she longingly referred to as “the old Graham.” I missed that guy too. The old Graham spent his free time with his best friend, Evelyn. They watched sports, drank beer, and fucked.
Just once. And that was the tragedy that led to new Graham. New Graham had more responsibilities, which left so little time to undo all the shit Evelyn had done—like marrying the wrong fucking guy and pushing me into marrying her best friend.
Such a mess to clean up.
“I’m not in the mood to go out for dinner. This cancer treatment has left me feeling weak and unsocial.”
My dear Lila liked to fight me at every turn, and fighters knew if they threw a punch, they’d get one or two in return. She made it hard for me to feel remorse for longer than a day. Most of the time, I liked the fight. But sometimes I just needed her to be obedient. Lila failed at obedience.
“I’m not asking for an RSVP. I’ll be out front at six.” I disconnected the call.