Don’t remind me. I wave her off, and Cayenne and I head in the direction of the restaurant we have a reservation at. “She’s a piece of work. Are you sure you want to marry into that family?”
“It’s not like I have a choice.”
“I still can’t believe your dickhead dad is making you do this. I feel like I should report him to the authorities.”
“I wish it were that simple.”
“I should have reported him when you were in high school,” she says, through gritted teeth, and a familiar red layer coats her eyes.
“I know,” I whisper, clinging to her arm tighter. “But it’s not like I can do anything about that now.”
“I shouldn’t have let you talk me out of it back then,” she adds as we wait at the intersection for the lights to change.
“Reporting him wouldn’t have mattered, Cay. Money talks, and he would’ve written a fat check and bought his way out of any charges they might have brought.” The lights change, and we join the crowd walking across the street. “People like the Hunts and my father are above the law. Why do you think they’re all so pretentious? They literally think they are gods. That they are above everyone and anything. That rules and laws and common decency don’t apply to them.”
“It’s wrong. It represents everything that is wrong about society today,” she says, pushing through the doors into the modern Greek restaurant.
After we are seated, we sip white wine while we mull over the menu without talking.
The instant the waitress is gone after taking our order, Cayenne props her elbows on the table and peers into my eyes. “I can’t believe you are going through with this, babe. It’s seriously nuts. He could be an ax murderer for all you know.”
I giggle. “He’s not a murderer, even if that scowl of his looks like it could kill anything stone dead.”
“How are you going to live with him if he continues to be such a moody bastard?”
“It won’t be forever,” I say, gulping a large mouthful of the crisp Sancerre. “Just long enough for me to get a payout from the prenup, and then I’m getting the hell out of Dodge. I’m thinking Europe somewhere. I could find a cute little house by the sea and paint from sunup until sundown.”
“Two years is a long time to live with a grumpy prick you don’t like.”
“I never said I don’t like him. He’s an acquired taste. Like anchovies on pizza. I used to hate those suckers, and now I can’t order pizza without them.”
Glancing around the busy restaurant, she lowers her voice and leans in closer. “How will it work if he has a guy on the scene? And what about when you need to get laid? It’s not like you can just pick up a random hookup with that rock on your finger and Sawyer Hunt for a husband.”
“I’ll find a way, and I have a sneaking suspicion that guy might no longer be on the scene.” It would definitely explain why Sawyer has been in such a foul mood every time I’ve seen him. Not that I’ve seen much of him. Apart from occasions where his parents force us to join them on a night out—because we need to be seen in public, apparently—Sawyer has pretty much ignored me.
“That might be a blessing in disguise,” Cayenne says as the server slides plates of food in front of us. “The two years would be more bearable if you were at least fucking the guy.”
“I don’t think he’d be down for that,” I say, cutting into my chicken souvlaki.
“Is the guy blind or something?” she asks, attacking her moussaka with gusto. “You’re like a freaking supermodel. I give it one month of living together, tops, before he jumps your bones.”
I bark out a laugh. “You’ve changed your tune, and I doubt it. He’s the most reserved, restrained guy I’ve ever met, and he gives nothing away. He has the art of cool indifference down pat.”
“I figure if you’re going through with this, you might as well make the best of it. He’s hot, and it’s clear he works out. If you’re going to be forced to put up with his whiny ass, you deserve to at least get a few orgasms out of it.”
“I wouldn’t rule out fucking him, but I’m not holding my breath either,” I admit, groaning as the succulent chicken and tantalizing flavors burst on my tongue. “I could be wrong about the guy. Maybe they are still together and the tension I picked up on is because of the wedding.”
She sets her silverware down, eyeballing me earnestly. “My offer still stands. You can take my couch, and we can look for a bigger place.”
“With what money, Cay?” I squeeze her hand, so grateful for her support. “I am currently unemployed, and you barely make ends meet as it is.”
“Can’t you take out a bunch of cash and hide it? Enough to keep you going until you find a new job?”
“I appreciate the suggestion, but I don’t actually have a lot of cash.” Heat creeps up my neck as I admit the embarrassing truth. “I only have my platinum card, but there is a block on it, which means I can’t withdraw cash with it, and it’s not like I can ask to do a large amount of cash back in a store or a restaurant.”
“What about your bank card?”
“I don’t have one,” I sheepishly admit. “Daddy took it away from me after I overdosed,” I whisper. “He doesn’t trust me with money. If I need something, he has one of his assistants order it. My card has a small limit so I can’t go crazy.” Derision drips from my tone. “It’s not like I know any dealers who take cards. I have told him, repeatedly, that I learned my lesson the hard way and I’m done with drugs, but he doesn’t believe me. His way of handling it is to ensure he controls everything. Any measly salary I earn even goes directly into an account he manages, and he has instructions left with banks all over town to refuse me if I try to open an account or apply for a line of credit.”
Her jaw hangs open. “That motherfucking bastard! He can’t do that to you.” Outrage splays across her pretty face.
“He can and he does.” I put my silverware down, having lost my appetite. “I’m twenty-four years old, and I can barely breathe without my father approving it.” It just serves to remind me what a pathetic bitch I am and how my disastrous life choices have led me to this point. Tears stab my eyes, but I force them back down. I’m done crying over the mistakes of my past and the pain of my present. At least, there is some sliver of hope for the future. “This wedding is my best chance at being free of that man. Sawyer has already agreed that he’ll pay the settlement directly to me when it’s time for us to divorce. Then I just need to find someone to get me a fake ID and I’m saying goodbye to Sydney Shaw and leaving my old life behind.”
“Do I factor in this new life plan of yours?”
“Absolutely. If you want to come with, I would be overjoyed, but I’m prepared to do this alone.”
“You are so brave.”
I almost spit my wine all over the table. I stare at her with incredulous eyes. “I think you mean weak and cowardly.”
“Nope.” She glares at me. “You are not starting this shit again. After everything you’ve been through, the very last thing you are is weak or a coward.” Her chest heaves, and my chest is heavy with pent-up emotion. Lifting my glass, I take a healthy glug of wine. “There is another option,” she says. “You could go to him. You could go to Jared. Tell him what happened and ask for his help. He’s loaded now. I’m sure he’d help you.”