David’s screams signal he’s ready to be fed. I hobble up the stairs as quickly as possible with a bottle in hand, ready to fulfill my duties as a father. We sit on the chair in my bedroom; he happily suckles the nipple of the bottle. I hold my son close and thank my lucky stars he appeared in my life when he did. David has been a much needed positive in both my and Hannah’s lives. I’ll be forever grateful to his father, Dog, for blessing us with him.
Now that we are settling into our new family life, do I really want to upset the balance by tracking down the woman who broke my heart? Is love really worth the risk?
Chapter thirty-two
Katie
My relationship with Brad moved quickly. It went from fucking on the first date to an intense love affair within the few weeks we’ve been together. As much as I’ve relished being wined and dined, his personality is overwhelming. Brad is very much an alpha male, someone used to being in control of every situation.
He takes my breath away in all the right and wrong ways.
All the men I’ve been attracted to were alpha males. Knobscratcher took the approach of extreme dominance. He ruled with an iron fist, beating me into submission with his words or rules until I accepted his wishes.
Lance was a gentle alpha, all man but thoughtful. Dominant in bed, but courteous to my wishes and needs.
Brad is somewhere in between, but when I see him displaying traits like my ex-husband, I get nervous. At this time in mylife however, can I afford to be fussy? Is every trait I’m not comfortable with a red flag?
As my career has progressed, he’s casually mentioned the links he’s created for me. A phone call here. An email there. A ‘you owe me’ without saying the words. PR and media is his playing field. He speaks to people who could send me atmospheric or cancel my career each day. And even though he’s never told me straight, he could end the amazing things happening to me. Deep down, I know he can.
Last week, there was a disagreement in regards to scheduling on a podcast. An interview with a friend of his who specializes in books for women over forty. Women like me. My target audience as he says.
When Celia highlighted the conflict. I asked Brad to rearrange. His simple, “are you sure you want to take that risk?” was enough to send me back peddling. Enough insinuation to know not to push it. That if he was aiding my career, his lead was the one I should follow.
“I’ll sort it,” Celia said, when I called.
“Thank you, it’s just Brad…”
“Pulled strings,” she interrupted. “Yes, Katie, he’s been pulling a lot of strings lately. You certainly are his favorite…”
Her words trailed off. I couldn’t decide if they were laced with gratitude, annoyance, or uncertainty. All I know is, they made me uncomfortable. And now, I feel caught between stepping out of line to offend her or him. Two powerful people in my life. Ones that could help or finish my career, and I’m not convinced they want me on the same path.
This month away from Brad, back in the UK, will do me good. I need to put the brakes on being swept away too quickly. Brad had asked to come with me, but I said no. He has his business to run; I have a full diary of book signings and promotions to attend.
Plus, I’m looking forward to catching up with Amy, who is going to accompany me for part of the trip before I head back to the U.S. Time with a solid person in my life, who, through thick or thin, is there for me. Hell, I miss her.
Sitting in yet another hotel room, my mood is low, sad because I’m never home. My mind replays the whirlwind that’s happened since releasing my first novel ten months ago. So much has changed. Amy has taken ownership of the two dogs, my little companions, because I’m never there. They were such good company when at Eden House. I dread to think what would have happened to them if I hadn’t pinched them before leaving. Next week in London, I’ll be staying in my own bed. I can’t wait.
My phone buzzes.
“Hello, darling,” Celia sings down the line when I answer. “Are you ready? I’ll be collecting you in ten minutes. We’ll be heading straight to the store.”
“Is it far to walk? Just considering my footwear,” I say.
“Walk?” Celia laughs. “Who’s walking anywhere? We’re traveling in style, darling, whether it is for one hundred meters or one hundred miles.” I roll my eyes at the phone.
“Don’t roll your eyes,” she scolds. How the hell did she know that?
“Okay, I’ll see you in ten,” I mumble, sticking the tip of my tongue between my lips, then cutting the call before she can continue the conversation.
Looking at the three pairs of shoes I’ve brought with me, I opt for the middle pair, comfy but with a heel. The cobbled streets of Edinburgh can be a nightmare on the ankles, and I need to limit the chances of falling on my arse. I don’t want to rerun the night I had here with Lance.
Celia rattles my door, and I grab my bag, throwing the door open in greeting. We air kiss while embracing as if we are long lost friends rather than colleagues who saw each otheryesterday. Today is a big deal—this book retailer is the biggest in the city, and people have been queuing since 7 a.m. to get a signed copy of my third novel,Army Boy.
Sitting out in front of the hotel is a long, black limo with darkened windows waiting for us. As we descend the steps, the driver spots us and waves in our direction. I look at Celia in confusion; she beams.
“A present from your friend.” She winks cheekily. “Brad said he wanted you to make a statement when you arrived. And this,” she gestures to the limo, “will ensure everyone knows who they’ve come to see today.”
“Brad strikes again,” I mutter. I should be grateful, but it feels like another attempt at controlling my movements. Another flex of the power he has over my life and my career. One call from him has changed the entrance I make to the signing. It sets the brand, one I would be unable to achieve on my own.