Being a Chef, you learned a thing or two.
1. You work well with your hands.
2. You're not afraid to get down & dirty.
3. You're all about pleasing.
4. You can satisfy every taste bud.
5. You can go on for hours without breaks.
6. You know how to han...
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I enter the house damn near four in the morning. Chase has made it clear we need to clean this shit up before it gets worse. He invited Antonella to our late-night meeting, hoping to get her to cooperate with us. To my surprise, she agreed. We need her to say she doesn't know where the articles came from, that she and I were getting married and that she is 100% supportive of my engagement to Helena. I don't dwell on why she has a sudden change of heart, but I'm sure it has something to do with six angry wives that have been typing like lunatics on the jet our entire flight home. Chase also wants to halt the acquisition of Helena's restaurant, but I told him no. Helena shouldn't have to suffer for something her ex or my convening stepmother did. We will move forward with the acquisition.
"We should hold off telling the public you two are married," Chase says once Antonella leaves the office.
The last thing I want to do is keep my marriage a secret. The other guys were allowed to shout from the rooftops that they were married, and I wanted to do the same.
"No. The sooner the public knows, the better." Austin says. Thank fuck I have someone on my side. "I feel Tristan should make a statement; hell, they both should. We need to get in front of this. Control the narrative. Last time we let things go on like this, the company lost investors quicker than Everett changed bed warmers in college."
I move into the kitchen seeing two bottles of my favorite and expensive wine empty and a pint of cookie dough ice cream melted on the countertop. The TV in the living room is playing some cheesy romance, but Helena isnt on the couch. I cut off the tv heading upstairs. I open our bedroom, and she isn't in there. I move to the first guest room, and she isn't there. Then I look into the second, third and fourth, and she isnt in any of them. Where the fuck is she?
I knew she saw Antonella's name pop up on the phone before I took it, but she should know she has nothing to worry about. I'm hers as she is mine.
I walk back into my bedroom fuming, but the light in the ensuite catches my attention. I slowly open the bathroom door and shakes my head. Helena is sleeping in the garden tub, surrounded by pillows and another half-empty bottle of wine. I need to ask her if she has a drinking problem. I squat near the tub, gently shaking her.
"Helena, baby, wake up."
She groans, turning on her side.
"Helena, baby, I'm home." I move the curls from her face. "Helena," I try again, and she mumbles for me to go away. Fuck it. I scoop her up, and she still clutching the bottle. Yup, she has a drinking problem. We will definitely have to talk about this later. From the time I picked her up and lay her on the bed, her eyes were open now, and she had a frown on her face.
"Did you want to sleep in the tub?" I ask, confused.
"No," she mumbles.
I reach for the bottle, and she sits up, passing it to me. "Should I be concerned that you have a drinking problem?"
