The Billionaire's Email-Order Bride Page 15

Brad stood as well and threw a five dollar note down on the table, folding his wallet back into his pocket in silence. Then he glared at her, and his voice came out as a growl. “Why do you think I had the affairs? Huh? Did you ever stop to think that maybe I wanted you to leave, because I couldn’t bear to walk away, and I knew that it wouldn’t work? I knew it couldn’t work because you were so driven, that nothing else mattered to you. You wanted to get out of here, you longed for a life away from this and from me, and that’s what you got. So, I hope you’re happy.”

  He stalked down the street, leaving Eve standing there, her mouth agape.

  John reached for her hand. “Are you okay?”

  She glared at him, anger behind her eyes, and tugged her hand from his grasp. “Why didn’t you say anything? You just stood there and let him say those things.” Tears pooled in the corners of her eyes and she let out a sob. “You let him say those horrible things about me, that it was my fault he cheated, that he broke what we had. My fault. Was it my fault?” She exhaled sharply and pressed both hands to her head. “It was my fault.”

  John shook his head. “No, of course it wasn’t. Everyone has a choice to make when it comes to being faithful in a relationship. I know what that’s like, I’ve…” He fell silent and rubbed a hand over his mouth.

  Her eyes narrowed. “You’ve what?”

  He sighed. “I’ve cheated. I understand…better than you think. And every time I did it, it was always my choice. Not anyone’s fault but my own.”

  “Every time?” she asked, her eyes widening.

  He nodded, lips pressed into a thin line.

  “I can’t believe this. Brad was a cheater, and so are you. How does this always happen? How do I always manage to fall for the bad guys?”

  “I’m not a bad guy.” He stepped toward her and cupped her cheek with his palm, but she stumbled away from him.

  “No, don’t. I’ll find my own way home. I need some space, some time to think. I’ll see you back at the house.”

  His heart ached as he watched her march away.

  He’d done those things. Treated people the way he shouldn’t have. But he was a different man now. It was a long time ago, and he’d regretted it for many years. It was one of the reasons he’d chosen not to date for so long, and it’d been right after his heart was broken. He hadn’t allowed himself to feel love, to be vulnerable with anyone. And he’d become someone he didn’t like.

  It made sense that she’d be hurt by his words, hearing about the person he was when she’d been betrayed in the same way. He combed fingers through his hair, sighed, and headed for the car. There wasn’t anything he could do or say right now to make things better. It’d take time. Only, she might not give it to him. And that thought made his throat constrict.

  Chapter 21

  Eve walked the streets of Paddington, her head throbbing, and her eyes smarting with unshed tears. John’s revelation had rocked her, probably more than it should’ve. He hadn’t cheated on her, still, he’d cheated on someone. Someone he’d cared about. And more than once. What did that say about him? About the likelihood that anything between them could last?

  Perhaps that was one of the reasons he’d wanted an arrangement rather than a relationship. She knew he’d have baggage. What normal, healthy guy asks for an email-order bride? He had a past. Of course he did. So, why was it such a shock?

  They were married, it was true. But they weren’t in love, hadn’t given their hearts to each other. They’d never taken that step. The kiss they’d shared had opened her up to the possibility, but with everything that’d happened since then, neither one of them had pushed to make their relationship anything more than the companionship John had originally asked for.

  Except that he’d flown to Australia to be with her, to support her when she needed him the most.

  That’d changed things for her. It’d opened her heart up to the possibility of more. That and the way he’d rescued her from the fire.

  They’d spoken in the hospital about what his company had done in taking over the restaurant, but they’d never really resolved things from her perspective. And she’d avoided having the conversation. She was wary of him, without even realizing it. He was the kind of man who took what he wanted and didn’t stop to ask questions. What if he took everything from her—her heart, her soul, her love—and didn’t look back? Didn’t stop to ask permission? Didn’t care if he betrayed her, wounded her, or destroyed her?

  Tears wound their way down her cheeks, and she wiped them away with the back of her hand, head down. The street wandered up a hill and turned a corner. She was sobbing now, and people were beginning to look. Foot traffic on the popular street was heavy, and she was making a spectacle of herself.

  She stopped in front of a gallery of modern art—a small space tucked between two restaurants. Peering through the large glass window out front, she pretended to be studying the art as she wiped her eyes dry and drew in long, gulping breaths in an attempt to calm herself.

  She tugged a pair of sunglasses from the purse that swung by a long strap from one shoulder and pushed them up her nose, obscuring the view of her reddened eyes. Then she continued up the hill.

  By the time she’d rounded the corner, she could see Mosey in the distance. Her heart leapt at the sight of the bright orange sign above the small porch roof. She’d loved her time there as first a dish pig, then a kitchen hand. When she’d completed her training at the Brisbane Culinary Institute, she’d moved to New York, but Jamie, her boss at Mosey, had offered her the job of line chef before she left.

  She thought about taking it, considered staying, but New York beckoned, with its bright lights and skyscrapers. She’d wanted adventure, to go out into the world and see what she could make of herself, and she’d done it. She stopped in the street and stared at the small, squat restaurant. People came and went through the narrow doorway. Round tables lined the sidewalk in front of large, glass windows. White tablecloths and quirky knickknacks in azure and orange completed the look. Nothing had changed. It was exactly the same as it had been when she’d left three years earlier.

  But she wasn’t. She felt like an entirely different person.

  A bell chimed above the door frame as she walked inside. The dim lighting prompted her to remove her sunglasses, and she pushed them back into her purse as she approached the counter.

  A young girl stood behind a cash register, a pencil balancing above one ear. She studied a handful of receipts, white teeth pressing down on her lower lip.

  “Hi,” began Eve.

  The girl looked up, then smiled. “Hello. Can I get you a table?”

  Eve nodded. “For one, thanks.”

  The girl grabbed a menu from behind the counter and beckoned for Eve to follow. The restaurant was packed, as it always had been when Eve worked there. One table in the back was empty, and the girl led her there.

  “Also, I was wondering…is Jamie here today?” asked Eve, taking a seat with her back to the wall.

  The girl’s face lit up. “You know Jamie?”

  Eve nodded. “We’re old friends.”

  “She’s in the kitchen. I can tell her you’re here if you like.”

  Eve gave the girl her name, then picked up the menu to scan through the options. Before long, she heard a shout and looked up to see Jamie barreling toward her.

  Jamie’s short dark hair was cut jagged over a wide forehead. Sharp brown eyes zeroed in on Eve’s face, and full lips pulled into a wide smile. “Eve Partridge!”

  Eve stood up with a grin. “Hi, Jamie.”

  Jamie pulled her into a firm embrace, patting her hard on the back. Eve chuckled, then coughed as she pulled away. “Still hugging the life out of people I see.”

  Jamie laughed. “And you’ve picked up an accent!”

  “I have not,” protested Eve.

  “Oh, please.” Jamie’s grin was infectious. She dropped into a chair opposite Eve, and Eve sat too.

  “I can’t believe you’re back
in Brisbane. You are back, aren’t you?

  “Not exactly.” Eve’s smile faded, and her throat tightened. Talking about it was still hard. “My dad died.”

  Jamie frowned. “Oh sweetie, I’m so sorry.”

  “Thanks. It was pretty sudden. Anyway, I’m back visiting for a few weeks, then heading to Atlanta. That’s where I live now.”

  “I thought you were in New York?” Jamie cocked her head to one side.

  “I was, but there was a visa issue…anyway, I’m working it out. And I got married.”

  “What?” Jamie grabbed Eve’s left hand and pulled it toward her. “Let me see.” Jamie frowned. “Where’s the ring?”

  Eve’s cheeks warmed. “I didn’t wear it today, sorry.”

  One of Jamie’s eyebrows arched. “I see. Everything okay?”

  Eve’s eyes filled with tears, and she choked back a sob. “I don’t know.”

  Tears spilled onto her cheeks, and she pulled a napkin from the dispenser on the table in front of her to dab them away.

  Jamie tugged her chair closer and encircled Eve with her arms. “Oh sweetie, I’m sorry. Marriage can be tough.”

  “How did you and Steve manage to stay together so long?” Eve sobbed into her napkin.

  Jamie shrugged. “We work at it. We don’t consider quitting an option. But everyone’s different, so you have to do things your own way. If it’s not right…”

  Eve wiped her cheeks dry. “I don’t know if it’s right or not. I feel like I don’t know anything anymore. I thought I had my life figured out, I knew where I was going, everything was falling into place, then it all crumbled. I feel so lost!”

  She burst into a fresh round of tears, and Jamie patted her gently on the back until she caught her breath.

  “Maybe you just need some time to sort things out. You know, you’ve always got a job here if you want it.”

  Eve’s brow furrowed and she inhaled sharply. “Really?”

  Jamie laughed. “Of course. I’d love to have you back. No, I’d kill to have you back.”

  Eve chuckled through her tears. “Please don’t.”

  “Maybe not kill, but pretty close to it. I’d make you my chef in a heartbeat.”

  “Who’s your chef at the moment?”

  Jamie threw her hands in the air. “We’re between chefs, so it’s me.”

  Eve quirked an eyebrow. “You?”

  “Yes, and I hate it. I’d much rather be doing front of house stuff, you know that. I’m a qualified chef, and I know how to do it, but it’s virtually impossible to be the chef and run a successful restaurant, even if it is a small one. I’m interviewing for a new chef at the moment. If you applied, I’d give it to you without an interview. Just sayin’…” She batted her eyelashes at Eve, then grinned.

  Eve’s back straightened and she scanned the restaurant. Customers packed the small space, eclectic decorations were dotted here and there, an alternate rocker crooned in the background. She’d always loved the place, and she could come back as the head chef. She could run it the way she’d dreamed of back when she had no idea what she was doing. She could move home.

  Did she want to move home?

  The weight that’d been resting on her shoulders shifted.

  It’d give her a chance to restore her relationships with Mom and Sally. And she could forget the issue with the visa, and the drive to make it in New York. It’d take the pressure off. And she was tired. Tired of fighting, striving, pushing for more.

  “I’ll think about it,” she said.

  Jamie squealed and clapped her hands together, her eyes shining.

  And all Eve could think was: what about John?

  As Eve strode away from the restaurant and back toward the café, thoughts whirled through her head. Could she really move back to Brisbane after all this time? After not having achieved what she set out to do? Could she let go of the dream she’d been clinging to for so many years?

  Head chef at a small, trendy restaurant in Paddington was a far cry from running a kitchen in New York City. But maybe she didn’t need that after all. It was stressful, it’d taken up her entire life when she was there, and she hadn’t even been in charge yet.

  Maybe she should aim lower and have a life, a home, a family instead.

  A rock formed in her gut, and she exhaled slowly.

  Life was all about making compromises. Wasn’t it? Or was that marriage?

  She was so caught up in her own thoughts that she didn’t see Brad until she ran smack into him. Her head hit his shoulder, and he caught her with both arms before she fell.

  He chuckled as she lay limp in his embrace staring up into those deep blue eyes. “Hi, Evie. Fancy running into you like this.”

  She smiled. “Are you stalking me?” Then she straightened and smoothed her hair back into place.

  “Of course not. I thought I’d do some shopping since I was already in Paddington. Did you know that for a measly eighteen hundred dollars you can buy yourself a very trendy leather jacket?”

  She laughed, despite herself. “Well, you should get two then.”

  His eyes twinkled and he set his hands on his hips to study her. “Are you okay, Evie? You look a little frazzled. I hope you’re not still upset about what I said. I hate it when we fight.”

  “I hate it too. We never could stay mad at each other for long though. And thank you, I’m fine.” She rubbed both hands over her face. “Kind of. John and I had a fight right after you left, and then I went to visit Jamie over at Mosey.”

  His eyes narrowed. “I’m sorry. I hope the fight wasn’t about me.”

  She shook her head. “Nope. Not about you. Not directly, anyway.”

  He glanced up and down the street, then fixed his gaze on her again. “How about we grab another coffee and try again? The café we started out at is just over there. You look as though you could use one, and I definitely could.”

  She sighed. “That would be nice.”

  An hour later and they’d covered every topic they could think of. Eve had relaxed and finally let her guard down. Brad was in a good mood, even after the earlier issues at the café, and had her in stitches over some of his stories about life in Singapore.

  She remembered why they’d lasted so long, and why she’d loved him. He was fun, easy to talk to and those dimples…

  Even so, he didn’t touch her heart. Not the way he used to. She was relieved to find she didn’t feel anything but fondness for him, the way she felt about an old friend. They could talk for hours, and he’d always have a place in her heart, but it was different now. She’d moved on. It was a wonderful feeling to spend time with someone who cared about her, who knew her as well as Brad did, without any expectations about where it might lead.

  He finished yet another story and she laughed until her sides hurt.

  “Who would’ve thought Singapore would be such a hotbed of hilarity?” she sputtered between guffaws.

  He chuckled. “I like your alliteration.”

  “Thank you, kind sir.”

  Eve took the last sip of her coffee, then set the empty cup back on the table. “I suppose I should get going. Although it’s been really fun. I’m glad we got a chance to catch up.”

  “Me too.”

  She stood and slung her purse over her shoulder. Then began the search for her pocketbook inside the purse. “Sorry, this will just take about an hour. I have way too much stuff in here.” She foraged some more.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “Looking for my pocket book.”

  “Your what?”

  She paused her search to laugh. “Sorry, my wallet. It’s in here somewhere.”

  “Don’t worry about it, I’ve got this,” he said.

  She smiled. “Thank you.”

  “No worries. So, will I see you again before you leave?” he asked.

  She frowned. “I’m not sure. Actually, I just spoke with Jamie and she offered me a job at Mosey. So, I may not leave at all.”

&n
bsp; Brad’s eyes narrowed and he took a step toward her. “What do you mean? What about John?”

  She shook her head, her heart aching at the thought of him. Where was he? Was he feeling as empty as she was over their argument? She should find him, talk to him, figure this thing out. There were decisions to be made, things to sort through. “I don’t know.” She scrubbed a hand over her face. “Ugh. Everything’s so complicated.”

  Brad moved closer still, closing the gap between them. “But, if you stay, that means he’ll go back without you. Right?”

  She nodded. “Of course. His work is there, his company.”

  “So, you’re thinking of leaving him?”

  She inhaled sharply as her heart lurched at his words. Then whispered. “I don’t know.”

  Suddenly, Brad’s hands were cupping her cheeks. He pressed his lips to hers, softly searching. He pulled her against him, her body pressed to his. He was lean, hard, and strong and the familiarity of his embrace, his lips on hers, washed over her with an inward groan. How she longed for things between them to be simple. For everything that’d happened to be wiped clean. But it couldn’t be.

  He’d betrayed her, broken her heart, and ended what they had. Maybe she’d neglected him, but that was no excuse for what he’d chosen to do. Just like John had said, it was a choice whether to betray someone. Brad had made his choice almost four years earlier, and he hadn’t chosen Eve. What made her think he wouldn’t do the same thing all over again.

  She pressed both hands to his chest and pushed back. Their lips parted, and Brad gazed down at her with hunger in his eyes.

  “I want you back, Evie. I made a mistake. Can you forgive me?”

  Her heart ached, and her throat felt dry. “I have forgiven you. I truly have. But that doesn’t mean I can trust you again.”

  He took her hands in both of his and raised them up one at a time to kiss the back of each. “But you can trust me. I’ve changed. I realize now what I lost, and I’d never do that again.”

  She sighed, offering him a wan smile. “I’ll always care for you, Brad. You were my first love. But things couldn’t ever be the same between us. I’m sorry.”