Mr. Mayfair - Louise Bay Page 0,2

started to talk about taking things to a deeper level. But I liked the shallows—dinner a couple of times a week followed by a sleepover. I didn’t have time for anything else. The rest of the time I was working—figuring out the next deal, scoping out new opportunities, firefighting issues on current sites. It didn’t leave time for much else in my life other than for my five closest friends. As much as it might make me a dick, women were important in the generic sense. But a particular woman wasn’t. So the last few months it had been Danielle. Before that it had been Juliet and by the end of the summer, it was likely to be someone else. But I should return Danielle’s calls. I’d been busy and this Henry thing was getting to me.

“When’s the last time you took her to dinner? Or even had a conversation with her outside the bedroom?”

“Jesus, are you my therapist now?” Guilt prickled beneath my skin, and I kept my eyes on my phone. I’d cancelled dinner this Saturday. Again. She’d been pissed off, so I’d given her some space. But it was Thursday. Shit. I should have called her back by now. If I confessed to Dexter, he’d tell me I was a dick. But it wasn’t like I planned it that way. I was just wrapped up in everything else I had going on, and somehow Danielle had fallen off the bottom of my call sheet. I switched screens and dialed my messages to check her tone of voice and see if I was still in the dog box.

I deleted the three “Call me back” voicemails. The fourth escalated into “Where are you?” The fifth another “Call me back.” She sounded calmer, more relaxed. Perfect. Just as I’d hoped. But the sixth voicemail was one I hadn’t been expecting. Or maybe it was. I listened as she dumped me—her tone resigned, her words cutting.

“You okay?” Dexter asked, studying my expression.

I ended the call. “Yeah. I’m a selfish, piece-of-shit workaholic. And Danielle Fisher’s ex-boyfriend.”

For the second time this morning, I got a well-deserved wince from Dexter.

I shrugged—as if it couldn’t be helped. As if it wasn’t entirely my fault. “I should have called her back sooner.”

Dexter nodded as he fixed a towel around his waist. “Yeah, you should have. But at the same time, if she was the right woman for you, you wouldn’t forget to ring her. Or avoid her calls. You’d want to speak to her.”

“And what the fuck do you know about dating the right woman?”

“I know,” he said.

“But it’s not Stacey,” I said, referring to the woman he was currently sharing a bed with.

“Stacey’s not . . . Just because I fucked up with the right woman doesn’t mean you have to. Learn from my mistakes.”

I rolled my eyes and went back to the email from Joshua. “I’ll be sure to mention to Stacey she’s in an interim role next time I see her.”

“Don’t be a dick.”

“You first,” I replied. I was being a dick. Danielle had sounded kinda resigned, like I’d lived down to her expectations, which stung. It was the tone my form teacher had used when I’d told her I had no intention of going to university. My grades had been good, but I wasn’t interested in more studying. I didn’t belong in that world. I wanted to be out in the world earning money. I doubt she’d use that tone with me if I ran into her now. She’d thought I was being lazy except it was the exact opposite. University was good for people like Henry and whoever this Matthew and Karen were—I had better things to do. I needed to earn my fortune.

But no matter how rich I got, I still didn’t mix in the circles that Henry Dawnay did.

Well, that needed to change. I had to figure out a way to score an invite to the society wedding of the year.

Two

Beck

I traced my finger down the guest list for a second time. I must have missed something. Someone.

“I checked it three times, sir,” my assistant, Roy, said from the other side of my desk. “I even searched against contacts of your contacts.”

By the time I was out of the shower and back at my desk, Joshua had sent me the guest list from the wedding Henry was attending, and I’d been determined to find my way in. The groom’s father was well known in the City—a partner in one