Dear Heart, You Screwed Me(44)

“Yes, yes you are,” she nodded, “but never fear, you have a coat, right?”

“Of course, I have a coat.” I rolled my eyes.

“Then you’ll be fine,” she smirked, her tongue darting out. “Now get the dress on, and make sure you’re wearing some cute little panties. Not your big girl panties.” She shook her head in a disapproving manner.

“I’m not getting my leg over, jeez, it’s just a business deal.”

“Hmm, we will see,” she winked.

I discarded my clothes and let them fall to the floor as I took the dress from the hanger, stepping into it and pulling it over my little curves. I settled for a seamless, nude thong. The dress clung to every bit of me, I didn’t want a knicker line and I certainly didn’t want to go commando.

No.

I didn’t need a bra on which was amazing, one perk of having small boobs. There was small, embroidered silver stars scattered over the thin material.

“Shoes?” I asked, looking down at my bare feet.

“The only shoes that you can pull off,” she hummed, reaching into the bag that sat down the side of my bed. She handed me a white box, with Louboutin on the front.

Please don’t be heels. Please don’t be heels.

Opening them I saw the most beautiful pair of high-top leather trainers, with the painted red signature sole.

“How did you…” I stopped, looking up at her with the burn of my tears threatening.

“Thank my sperm donor,” she shrugged. “The man has more money than sense.”

“Please tell me you got yourself some?”

“Of course, I did. We’re matching boo,” she chimed.

“I love you.”

“Not as much as I love you, now, get your shoes on. It’s time to go.”



I stood on the pavement, checking my phone every few seconds. Harlen had messaged to tell me he was on his way, but I couldn’t mask the disappointment I felt that Killian had ghosted me for most of the week. I haven’t been easy, I know that… but I thought we sort of understood how each one of us worked; I obviously read that wrong. I mean, we don’t know anything about each other. We have one thing in common. We’re married.

That’s it.

I have two weeks to go, then I’ll be free. I am slightly hopeful that he will keep his mouth zipped and we can have an easy annulment, I really don’t want to be divorced.

I clicked on his name, seeing one unread message.

Killian: Remember… tell your friend to keep his fucking hands to himself and off what is mine, wife.





I scoffed a laugh. Possessive, demanding, beautiful, fuckable Killian. Lifting my eyes I saw a blacked out limousine pull up to the kerb. The window slipped down.

“Get in! You’ll freeze your tits off,” Harlen laughed before doing the window back up. I scuttled forward, opening the door and launching myself in.

He was wearing a black dinner suit jacket that was fitted to perfection, a high neck ruffled satin shirt that hung over his cropped cigarette trousers. He finished his look off with black, high-top trainers.

He looked amazing.

His black hair was styled and his crystal blue eyes sought out mine.

“You look very hot,” he wiggled his brows before they dived down.

“You don’t look too bad yourself,” I flicked my long blonde hair over my shoulder in a dramatic fashion.

“We won’t have to be there long, just a few things we have to do, then, I’ll sign on the dotted line.”

I widened my eyes.

“For real?” I shrieked.

“For real,” he smiled at me, handing me a glass of bubbles and clinking our glasses together.

I couldn’t wait to go to the office on Monday and shove that down Adele’s throat.

We fell into light chatter before we pulled up at our destination. We stopped outside the Rockefeller Plaza. I was half expecting to see the tree up, but maybe November was a little too early.

The driver stepped out and opened Harlen’s door, he climbed out but stopped and reached in for my hand. I was anxious. I hated being the centre of attention and I was about to live my worst fear.

My trembling hand reached and clasped his. His head dipped down as he gave me a wonderful smile. My nerves subsiding for a moment until my foot touched the red-carpet underneath me and I heard the loud chatter and the sound of clicking cameras.

Holy hell.

He clung to my hand, pulling me close to him as his arm wrapped around my waist.

“Harlen! Harlen!” one reporter shouted as we posed for photos.

I didn’t sign up for this.

“Who is the mystery girl? Is she your girlfriend?”

Harlen chuckled softly, dropping his head before meeting the reporter’s eyes. “You’ll never know.”

He held his hand up silencing the onslaught of questions that were being fired his way, ushering me inside.

“I’m sorry about that,” he whispered as we checked in our coats.

“It’s fine,” I wave it off, even though inside I didn’t feel fine. I felt horrible knowing that Killian was going to see those photos and assume something was going on. But then, I shouldn’t really care. He screws around with Adele so why should I be worried about him seeing me with Harlen.