Santa Fe Billionaire

Chapter 62

Ava

I don't want to stop, at the back of my mind I know that voice and it's the last person I want to speak to right now. Although I am extremely curious to know, out of all the cities and states, out of all the towns, across all the miles; why here? Why today? Why now? I just want to go on my merry way take some stunning pictures of people going about their day in Central Park, maybe be a total tourist and have a horse and carriage ride, visit Brooklyn Bridge take some more snaps of the chess players outside and grab something to eat as dusk graces us.

Then I feel it, a hand on my elbow. "Get. Off. Me." I yell drawing stares from some very well dressed women. Note, all wearing black shift dresses, skyscraper heels, Prada sunglasses and their hair all in a French twist. Do I feel a little out of place and underdressed? Absolutely.

I wrench my arm free and almost end up punching the man in a charcoal suit who is walking close to me. "Sorry." I mutter. He ignores me and carries on his way. You know what, they all look a bit like robots. I turn and see a very ruddy, red faced Mark. It's him. I count to ten because my instinct is to sock him one right in between the eyes and seriously, I am not a violet, aggressive person. I've never hit anyone in my life, willingly or otherwise. But him. He has hurt me so much that I could drive a knife through his heart, just so he can see what it feels like.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" I blurt out. I don't ordinarily swear either. Okay, unless I'm under Sebastian or he's ramming me like a demon possessed from behind. "Here of all places?" I am still astounded that with fifty states, just under twenty-thousand cities and a population of three-hundred and thirty-one million people in this country, Mark is standing right by me.

"I'm here on business."

"With Charlotte no doubt." I hiss at him. Conscious we are now standing in the middle of the sidewalk and people are going round us, some tutting and some huffing. It's not the done thing in New York. People walk and walk, they don't go round.

"No, not with Charlotte." He runs a hand through his wavy hair. I have to admit he does look a bit harassed and red in the face. That'll be from trying to catch me up. Why did I have to come out of the hotel just then? Why couldn't I just have had that damn shower? Then I wouldn't be face to face with a man I'd quite happily stab knitting needles in his eyes.

"We, er." He hesitates. Touches my elbow again and tries to move me from the spot I am rooted to. I shrug him off.

"Will you stop groping me, or I'm going to scream at the top of my voice and have you arrested for harassment." Instantly he lets his hand drop from my arm. "What do you want, Mark?"

"To talk."

"There's a phone for that. Er let me see, you had six months to talk to me. Or could you not because you were too busy shagging Charlotte in my bed?" He looks bewildered. That's right. I am not behaving anything like the Ava he knows. The girl who always had a smile on her face when she saw him, hung off his every word, washed his clothes, ran the rest to the dry cleaner. The Ava who told him she loved him to the end of the world and then some. The Ava who would fall asleep with her head rested in the crook of his arm. The Ava he was supposed to fucking marry. No, I am definitely not behaving like that Ava right now. No wonder the stupid sod looks bewildered and as if his eyes are going to pop out of his head.

They're bulging so much he reminds me of some over-fed stuffed Pug dog. You know, the ones whose owners are cruel and think that giving them lots of treats because they're cute, is acceptable. I wonder what would happen if I got my thumbs and tried pushing those eyes into the back of his head.

A woman bashes in to me, I'm sure it was an accident since we're still stood right in the middle of everyone trying to get to one destination or the other.

"Don't be like that, Ava. It doesn't suit you."

"Nor did finding out that you moved Charlotte in just a couple of weeks after you told me that I wasn't the right fit for you." I know my voice is slightly louder than it should be. I'm definitely drawing attention now.

"Look, can't we just act like grown-ups and go for a coffee?" Is he actually serious? Him. Me. Coffee. Grown-ups.

"I don't bloody think so, Mark. Why don't you go on about your day and I will mine. I've got nothing to say to you anymore. You ignored all my messages, calls, attempts to try to speak with you." I stop. I'm not about to let him know how he tore my heart apart, how I lost interest in myself, my life, my best friend, being a young woman who should have been excited to be getting married in a few months' time. No way.

"I want to apologize, Ava. I didn't mean to hurt you. I just.." He looks lost, his eyes have stopped bulging out of their sockets. I no longer feel like pushing them right back out of his skull. He gives me a small smile, his dimple appears and once there was a time when it would make my stomach fizz and my heart zing. Only now it doesn't. But... Yes, a but. I know even I hate myself for this and am angry with myself. A coffee isn't that unreasonable. We did spend five years together and for the most part, they were a happy five years. Nothing in comparison to what I have with Sebastian. Happy enough to want to marry him when he proposed though. I relent, even though half of me is telling me I'm doing the wrong thing.

"Fine." He lets out a sigh and steers me out of everyone's way.

"I know a nice, quiet coffee shop just up here on the left." Of course he does. Well I suppose I'm looking forward to hearing his apology, I guess.