Sophia’s POV
Whatever romantic notions and hopes I might have had about this trip vanished that very moment.
“Jill!” Margery exclaimed with obvious exasperation.
Jill glanced at me, her cheeks slightly flushed with genuine embarrassment that I knew she hadn’t meant to hurt me with her words.
I forced on a casual smile I could barely feel.
“Don’t worry, it’s fine.”
But from the sudden awkward silence that hung in the air between us, it didn’t seem like anyone believed my words.
“You should join us for our hangout tomorrow.” Rita said abruptly in a rather obvious change of subject.
“Yes! We’ll show you to all the best places.” Jill nodded enthusiastically, eager to get over her blunder from earlier.
A hangout? I wasn’t sure I had the same definition of a hangout as these women did since I had never quite gone out in social settings since my marriage to Mr Prescott and my marriage to Jerry had mainly consisted of me slaving away to appease his family while dressing up for their events.
“I’m sorry, I’m not sure I can-” I began to refuse when Rita placed her hand above mine, a kind smile on her face as though she could see how nervous I was.
“Why don’t you think about it and get back to us later?” She asked and I couldn’t find it in me to refuse so I just nodded.
Eliza spoke up for the first time since introducing herself to me earlier, her pale green gaze cool and collected.
“What shares are we buying now?” She asked.
Jill let out a soft sigh.
“Rhodes looks promising but my losses with Ford completely wrecked my portfolio.”
Margery shook her head in obvious disappointment.
“I told you to diversify, Jay.” She said softly.
Jill smiled back at Margery unrepentantly.
“I know. I intended to.”
Margery muttered something under her breath that might have been a prayer but I was too far away from her to catch it.
I glanced at Rita next to me who seemed to already be anticipating my questions.
“You trade shares together?” I asked, wondering why I was so surprised.
Rita, Margery, Jill and Eliza might be dressed like trophy wives to billionaires but the truth was there was little possibility of billionaires like Derek marrying women who didn’t know a thing or two about growing wealth.
But I guess being the wife of Reid Prescott, I was the exception to that rule.
Yet another thing Daphne had that I didn’t. Stop it Sophia, there’s no need to compare yourself to her.
Rita’s smile broadened at my question.
“There’s so much we have to introduce you to which is why you need to come to our hang out.”
The hang-out didn’t sound so bad anymore. Maybe I could relate to these women more than I thought I would. Or at least learn from them.
I suddenly felt someone’s hands settle on both of my shoulders before I heard Mr Prescott’s cool voice in my ear.
“I hope I’m not interrupting.” He said and hearing that cool velvety voice so suddenly unnerved me so much that I jumped reflexively, knocking down my juice in the process.
The juice spilled on the table most of it dripping down on my thighs and the edges of my dress.
Goodness, as though today couldn’t get any more embarrassing.
I pulled away from my chair, my cheeks burning as I stood unable to meet anyone’s gaze as I muttered my apology.
“I’m sorry, please excuse me.”
Then I walked away as fast as my legs could carry me.
The bathroom wasn’t far off as Derek had shown me in our mini your. The moment I got in, I turned on the tap and looked at myself in the mirror.
I was almost as red as a tomato. My hazel eyes stared back at me in the mirror, wide with disbelief. Why did that have to happen now of all times?
I let out a sigh, my eyes falling shut for a second before I got a hold of myself. I turned off the tap, then tucking my hair behind my ears, I moved grabbing toilet paper and I began to dab my thighs dry.
I heard the restroom door open and shut. I raised my head only to meet the unflinching gray gaze of Mr Prescott and I just froze.
He didn’t though, instead he walked towards me grabbing some of the toilet paper I’d laid out on the counter.
“Let me help you with that.” He said casually before going to a crouch in front of me and dabbing at my thigh.
The feeling of Mr Prescott’s hand on my bare thigh triggered feelings that had my knees weak and my body trembling.
I took a step away from him, then another, my heart beating so hard and fast I was certain Mr Prescott could hear it.
Mr Prescott’s hold on the toilet paper tightened then he straightened from his crouch, returning it back to the counter before he faced me.
“How can anyone believe we are happily married if my wife won’t even let me touch her?” He grated out.
I looked away from him unable to maintain eye contact for a moment longer.
“This is a business deal,” I said in response. “What does it matter whether or not we look like a real couple?”
I barely heard Mr Prescott move until he was directly in front of me, then his hand was beneath my chin forcing me to meet his gaze.
“It matters because I say it does.” He said and I felt something crack inside me.
Had I truly hoped that he would say the reason he wanted us to look like a real couple was because deep down he also felt something whenever we touched? That these emotions weren’t just in my head.
“Please excuse me.” I said haltingly trying to leave before I did something crazy like burst into tears in front of Mr Prescott.
Mr Prescott moved to block me, confusion sparkling in those gray eyes.
“We aren’t done talking, Miss Evergreen. Why are you being so evasive?”
Maybe it was the tension that had been building all day within me from Mr Prescott very nearly pinning me against the wall in our room, to hearing about Daphne from Jill earlier to this very moment of being with Mr Prescott but not being with him or maybe this was a long time coming. My walls fractured.
“Because you are confusing me!” I yelled at him.
Mr Prescott stared at me for a second before he spoke.
“What?”
I spoke before I could stop myself.
“You make me wish for things I can’t have.”