Chapter 504 Lunch

Delia’s POV

“I know how to sit at my own parents’ table.”

“Then sit. And come back when you need this.”

I dressed. I did not stay. On the drive home I was loose, sore, and already thinking about the next time. His mouth. His cock. The way he said pathetic and perfect in the same breath.

Noah was awake. He looked up from the couch.

“Martha, hard on you?” he asked.

“She fusses,” I said. “You know how she is.”

He believed me. He held the bedroom door like a good husband. I showered and thought about Elliot’s cock, not the man in the hall, and I already knew I would go back.

Tessa Sterling called the next morning while Noah was still in the kitchen and I was still sore from what I had done with his father.

I was standing at the counter wearing Elliot’s shirt from last night, the one I had not returned, and drinking coffee I did not even want. Every time I sat down, I could still feel the soreness Elliot had left behind. There was no bruise I could show anyone, only the unmistakable feeling of having been used. I had enjoyed it while I was in his bed, but I hated feeling it in my husband’s kitchen.

My phone lit up with a name I certainly did not consider a friend.

“Lunch,” Tessa said the moment I answered. “Today. I will not keep you long.”

“The last time you sat across from me, you called me a fool.”

“And you still answered my call. One o’clock. The restaurant on Mercer. They serve a white wine you will pretend not to like.”

“I did not say yes.”

“You will. You hate not knowing what people want from you.”

She hung up before I could refuse again. I stood there staring at my phone while Noah watched me over his coffee. He looked well-rested, like a man who had slept peacefully beside his wife without knowing she had spent the night thinking about someone else.

“Who was that?” he asked.

“Tessa Sterling. She wants to have lunch.”

“Who is that?”

“The racer. She goes by The Phoenix.”

“Oh, that lady.” He frowned slightly, as though the name sounded familiar but he could not quite remember why. “Since when do you have lunch with her?”

“Since she called. I will be back later.”

“Delia.”

“It is lunch, Noah. Not a kidnapping.”

“She is not your friend.”

“I know exactly what she is.”

He clearly wanted to say more, but he held back. Noah was a decent man, and that decency had once made me feel safe. This morning, however, it felt like a door I could walk through without anyone trying to stop me.

I left before he could say anything else.

As I drove, I told myself I was going because I was curious. But that was a lie. Tessa never contacted anyone without wanting something. She called when she wanted to expose someone’s weakness. For months, she had treated me like a woman who cared more about attention than the truth. If she was suddenly inviting me to lunch, she wanted something she could not get from one of her livestreams.

I also could not stop thinking about Elliot. His hand in my hair. His mouth. The way he had called me pathetic and perfect in the same breath. I had driven home afterward and lied to Noah about Martha. Now another woman was calling me out of the house, and I hated the timing. Worse, my body was still responding to memories of last night, even though I was supposed to be preparing myself for lunch with Tessa Sterling.

The restaurant on Mercer was expensive and designed to make people feel important. White tablecloths covered every table, conversations were kept low, and the waiter glanced at my handbag before deciding I could afford to eat there. Tessa was already waiting for me.

She wore a red dress, her hair was perfectly styled, and a bottle of wine sat open on the table with two glasses already filled. Her lipstick was carefully applied, making her look as though she had dressed for a man and ended up having lunch with me instead.

I sat down without smiling and took a drink. The wine was cold and tasted too crisp for my liking, but I drank it anyway.

“The last time we spoke, you called me a fool and a woman who likes attention,” I reminded her. “So what exactly do you want from this attention-seeking woman today?”

Tessa smiled faintly, almost shyly. It did not suit her. I had seen her true personality in rooms where she was desperate for a headline and did not care who she hurt to get it. This shy act was nothing more than a performance.

“Well,” she began, “you are married to Noah Vesper, so you are the only person close enough for me to ask.”

I almost laughed into my wine. If she knew just how close I had been to Elliot twelve hours earlier, she would not be sitting there looking so composed. She thought being married to his son made me a convenient source of information. She had no idea I had already been in his father’s bed.

“Ask what?”

“Elliot Vesper.”

My stomach tightened, but I kept my expression neutral. I took another sip of wine to give myself something to do while I tried not to reveal my reaction.

“What about him?”

“Is he married?”

“Why would you ask me that?”

“Let us order first, shall we?”