If I'm going to spend another week away from her, it's not going to be wasted stroking the ego of Jonathan Beckett and his friends at a f*****g cocktail party.
"You have to be there," he blathers on before I can say anything. "I'm flying in a chef from Amsterdam, and the entertainment..." He lets out a heinous moan that sets my teeth on edge. "The models I'm bringing in will be very entertaining. You'll have first choice."
The offer of s*x with random women Beckett has paid to be there wouldn't have tempted me even before Nova. But now, it's as repulsive as the food lodged between his teeth.
"Tempting," I say. "But no."
The man frowns like nothing has ever been more confusing than someone refusing his company. I would've thought it would be a normal enough occurrence for him by now, bu
