How to Un-Marry a Millionaire by Billie Morton

Author:Billie Morton [Morton, Billie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Booktrope Editions
Published: 2014-08-04T00:00:00+00:00

***

Suzanne knew that if her vagina got up and walked away tomorrow she would go to her grave a happy woman. She was beyond satisfaction. She was on meltdown. Zel Anders was, without any shadow of a doubt, the best lover she had ever had. Anyone had ever had.

They had been meeting twice a week for the past few months, and for Suzanne the time in between was just something to be tolerated and passed as painlessly as possible. I must be a sex addict, she told herself bluntly. There is no other explanation for the ridiculous way I am feeling, let alone behaving.

“With this man, who – let’s face it – I barely know, I am a complete harlot,” she finally cracked, letting Brooke, who was currently residing in Paris, in on her secret. Otherwise, it occurred to her, she might go mad. She needed to say his name out loud to someone.

“Does he ever talk about himself?” Brooke asked.

Suzanne had to admit that he didn't. She knew virtually nothing about him, apart from what she had read remorselessly on the Internet. He didn’t enjoy questions and had made it clear from the start that he was really only interested in a sexual relationship. Nothing more. He had his reasons. He was not ready to divulge them. Suzanne and Brooke spent hours on the phone between New York and Paris, trying to figure out what the hell those reasons could be.

“We never meet anywhere apart from his loft. I’m never there for more than two hours. But that’s fine,” Suzanne gushed, trying to convince herself. “I don’t want to push it anywhere it isn’t organically heading.”

“Honey, you’re a woman, not a crook neck squash,” Brooke sniffed. “It’s only natural to want a bit more.”

“Honestly, it’s perfectly okay for now.” Suzanne didn’t want to defend her position. That was the thing about other women. They couldn’t stop themselves giving advice. In a crazy way, it occurred to her – a timeless place with a lover who came and went – was almost straight out of Brigadoon. The pornographic version.

Ironically, Suzanne mused, Aubrey’s rock opera The Bridegroom Cometh, the one based on “Brigadoon,” could eventually have pulled her Scots family out of the huge hole that had become their lives at Drummoyne Castle. If only Aubrey had not been stark staring crazy. But then if he had been sane he would have never dreamed up the plot in the first place. A lose-lose situation as they say.

She wondered if she should try calling him in the psychiatric wing of the Royal Edinburgh Hospital where he had been committed for the foreseeable future. It had been a long, long time since there had been any communication between them. She decided not. It had taken her months, even years to clear her mind of her Scottish laird. It was one of the hardest things she had ever had to deal with in therapy.

Once Suzanne had begun divorce proceedings, she had realized that more than the cold and damp of the highlands had entered her marrow and lodged itself there.

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