“Yes, I did, but do you think I have a lie detector test for every single guy who wants a go in the mattress room? An STD test, sure, but I don’t exactly check out their lifetime CV.”
“He’s from MALVERN!”
“No. He’s from Evesham actually, if I remember the guy correctly.”
“Evesham… Malvern… so what? He’s my CLIENT’S FUCKING FIANCÉ!”
“Exactly, and you should tell her so. He’d probably fuck every single one of her bridesmaids if he got half the chance.”
“I can’t tell her!” I protest. “How can I tell her that?! My career would be over, and I’d look like a total fucking bitch!”
“That’s your call, baby, it’s up to you. But I’d think she’d rather you told her. I’d sure as fuck rather someone told me if they’d fucked you behind my back. I think you’d appreciate the same.”
My thoughts are reeling as I take a gulp of water.
“I can’t,” I say. “I’d have to leave Wedding Bliss and I’d have to tell Janie, and Claire would be devastated beyond belief…”
“Yes, you would,” he replies, like it’s no big deal. “And I’ve said before, at some point you’ll be leaving your job anyway to be a wife and mother, so save Claire some heartbreak in the future and give her the truth right now.”
He pauses while I try to digest what the hell he’s suggesting.
“Do you have her address?” he asks me. “I can reschedule my afternoon catchups and take you over to hers right now.”
I do have her address, but the thought of turning up on her doorstep gives me palpitations.
“Cass, we can go,” he says. “I’ll be right there with you. It will be hard for you to live with yourself if you don’t.”
Even through my haze, I’m struggling to believe that this situation has somehow come around to it being my morality in question. I didn’t know I was fucking her fiancé, and I didn’t know I was risking my career, and I’d never have done it… never have even thought about it if I’d known.
“Are we going?” he asks, but I shake my head.
“I need to think about it.”
“Sure, baby, but the sooner the better. She’ll have more respect for you if you turn up quickly to share your news.”
“FUCK OFF!” I snap. “You talk about this like it’s nothing, but it’s MY career, and she’s MY client, and MY friend, and it’s MY fucking reputation!”
He stays silent at that, but he’s still so fucking calm.
“Don’t you get it?!” I ask him. “Do you not fucking get how shit this feels for me? How the fuck would you feel if I told your work colleagues you sent guys in a procession to fuck me on a rubber mattress, hey? How would you feel if I told Gerwyn you use the room at the end of the landing to treat me like a slut in front of a roomful of guys?”
I’d expect even a hint of a reaction in him. A hint of empathy in his face, but no. There’s nothing there.
I push harder.
“Honestly, Ant, how would you feel if people knew what you did? What we did? Would you be ok with that? Would you want to look Gerwyn straight in the eye if he knew you were sending guys across our landing with their dicks out in one long queue?”
Ant doesn’t flinch or falter. His words come calm and clear.
“Gerwyn already knows.”
“What?”
I’m reeling all over again. Totally confused.
“But you said business is business and personal is personal…”
“Yes, I did. And Gerwyn’s my best friend. Those lines are a little bit different. Of course he knows me, he’s lived with me for years. He knows me inside out and respects me for it. Just as I respect him.”
I’m struggling to comprehend that Gerwyn knows Ant sends random guys into a room to fuck me, because it feels seedy… and just… not something Gerwyn would want to know…
As always, Ant reads my expression.
“You think because Gerwyn is a crusader against sex trafficking, he’d think what we do is fucked up?”
“No, I don’t… I’m not sure what he’d think about any of it…”
He folds his arms. “If that is the case we need to take a serious look at what you really think is going on between us.”
“What do you mean?”
He leans in closer across the breakfast bar.
“Baby, what we do, we do with respect and consent for each other. We like dirty sex, and that isn’t a crime. It isn’t bad or wrong. It isn’t fucked up, and it isn’t something Gerwyn would have a problem with. Sure, he wouldn’t want to be a part of it, he’s as vanilla as it gets, but that doesn’t mean he thinks it’s a bad thing.” He pauses. “So the question is, do you? Do you feel like it’s a bad thing? Do you enjoy it as much as you say you do?”