“Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
He laughed. “Will you come back on the screen?”
I picked the phone up and gave him a sheepish smile.
“You’re not embarrassed, are you?”
“A little.”
“Don’t be. Look.” His screen turned, and he showed his dick which was hard again. “You did that.” He brought the camera back so I could see him. “Watching you turned me on.”
I smiled. “You’re so easy, Max.”
He grinned. We stared at each other for a moment, and then he said, “I’ll let you go. Have a good evening, Amelia.”
“You too.”
The screen went black, and I lay back in bed, still shocked at what I’d done. I remembered in high school my best friend telling me that a sure way to know that you really like a guy was how hard you worked to interpret every little thing he said, wondering if it meant anything or not. There had been a few guys I’d had crushes on in high school and college, but I hadn’t understood her statement until now. During the course of the call with Max, for every little thing he said, I was trying to decipher what it meant. Was he just calling to tell me about the annulment? Did he call to have phone sex? What didsweetheartandbabymean? Did he still want the annulment?
Of course he did. That was crazy wishful thinking, which highlighted the fact that I was in deep trouble. Even so, I was eager for his visit after Thanksgiving. As much fun as phone sex was, it wasn’t nearly as satisfying as if he were here.
I slapped my forehead with the palm of my hand. “You can’t go there, Amelia. Don’t be a dumb schoolgirl.”
Aside from the crazy thoughts and emotions going through me, having an orgasm made the rest of the night nice. I was relaxed. It made me think of the sleepy sex we’d had before discovering we were married.
I was eating some dinner while watching a baking show when my phone rang again. Looking at the caller ID, I saw it was my brother. I’d hoped it was Max again. Good lord, I had it bad.
“Hey, James,” I said when I answered. “What’s up?”
“Dad’s back in town and he wants us to have Thanksgiving dinner together.”
I sat with that for a minute. It wasn’t that we never had holidays together, but over the last few years, it was hit or miss, and I preferred the misses. Having dinner with my father was always torture. The whole time, I was on edge, walking on eggshells, making sure I didn’t say or do anything that would give him fodder for the fire to use against me. I knew that sounded terrible, and it wasn’t like my father was out to ruin me. But he could be mean and petty just because he wanted to be. If he were a woman, he’d be called a bitch.
I had a six-figure business, and yet he often asked me when I was going to get a real job. He downplayed how I was making my living even though I was successful doing something I was good at and passionate about.
“I imagine he’s going to call you at some point, but it was clear to me that he wasn’t inviting us over. He wasdemandingour attendance.”
Just great. “I might have the flu that day.”
“You know that won’t stop him. He’ll just send one of his goons over to grab you out of bed and haul you over.”
He wasn’t wrong. James called my dad’s men goons, whereas I called them henchmen. My father would call them security, but it was clear that they were no normal security team. I suspected most of them were ex-mercenaries. I didn’t know where he found them, but it wasn’t from a reputable security agency like Saint Security.
“I’ll go to Bora Bora instead.”
James laughed. “I’d go with you if I thought that would work. You know him, Amelia. He won’t stop until he gets what he wants. We learned a long time ago that it was easier to give in than to fight him.”
He was right. We treated it like ripping a bandage off. It was painful but best done quickly.
I decided that I would grit my teeth and get through Thanksgiving knowing that afterward, I would be able to see Max. It wasn’t a good idea to use Max as something to look forward to, or to soothe me after time with my father, but I wasn’t going to worry about that now. When it came to my father, I would use whatever I could to help me through it, including another large glass of wine, which I poured once I got off the phone with James.
For the next few days, I went through life as normal. Except for the frequent thoughts and dreams I had of Max, my life had resumed its normal routine. I figured eventually, the thoughts and dreams would go away, so I didn’t worry about them too much.
On the Tuesday before Thanksgiving, my phone rang just as I was closing the house and getting ready to call it a night. It was only nine o’clock, but I decided I would read in bed and go to sleep early. Holidays were busy times for my clients, which meant a lot of work for me and my clients. At the same time, I wanted me and my staff to have time off as well, so we worked hard to be able to take Wednesday afternoon and Thanksgiving off. Of course, I would’ve been happy to work rather than see my father, but James was right, my father wouldn’t stand for it.
I’d just gotten into bed when my phone went off, the ring tone playing New York, New York. Yes, it was another bad sign that I’ve given Max his own ringtone.