Chapter 89
Angela POV
"You're enjoying this far too much," I murmured, accepting his arm with practiced grace. The whispers from nearby onlookers were already starting, and I could practically see the text messages flying across the financial district's private networks.
"Can you blame me?" He guided me to the passenger door with fluid ease. "It's not every day I get to escort Manhattan's most intriguing woman to lunch."
As we settled into the leather interior, the subtle scent of his forest cologne filled the confined space. It was distinctly different from Sean's preferred citrus notes - another small detail that emphasized the growing distance between my current reality and the life I'd built with Sean.
"I heard about Sean's sudden change of heart regarding the divorce," Christopher said casually as we merged into traffic. "Rather unexpected, wouldn't you say?"
I kept my gaze fixed on the passing scenery. "You seem surprisingly well-informed about my personal affairs."
"You and Sean are both my dear friends," Christopher's voice carried a gentle warmth tinged with concern. "It's only natural that I care about what happens between you." He paused, his gaze dropping meaningfully to my still-flat stomach. "Besides, you're not alone in this anymore. I promised I would help you, didn't I?"
"Christopher-"
"Care to make a small wager?" he interrupted smoothly, navigating through midtown traffic with elegant precision. "I bet Sean will appear at our lunch venue within thirty minutes of someone informing him you're in my car."
"That's absurd," I replied, though uncertainty crept into my voice. "Sean's too busy with board meetings to-"
"To chase after his wife when she's seen with another man?" Christopher's smile held a hint of challenge. "You underestimate both his possessiveness and his sources of information within Shaw Tower."
"And what exactly would I be wagering?"
"Simple." He pulled up to a red light, turning to face me fully. "If I win, you let me help you secure that divorce - my way. No more waiting for Sean to come around."
I studied his profile in the afternoon light, trying to decode the strategy behind his offer. "And if you lose?"
"Then I'll step back completely. Let you handle things your way." The light turned green, and he accelerated smoothly. "Though I should warn you - I rarely lose bets involving Sean Shaw's predictable nature."
"You're assuming quite a lot about my willingness to be a pawn in whatever game you're playing."
"No games, Angel." The old nickname slipped out with practiced casualness. "Just a chance to finally break free from a marriage that's holding you back."
We pulled up to the Plaza Hotel's private entrance, where an attentive valet waited to take the keys. Christopher rounded the car to open my door, offering his hand with that same carefully calculated gallantry.
"Shall we give them something to talk about?" he murmured, nodding subtly toward a group of Morgan Stanley executives entering the hotel.
I accepted his hand with a slight shake of my head. "You're impossible."
"I prefer the term 'strategic.'" He guided me through the lobby with a proprietary hand at the small of my back. "Besides, news travels fast in our circles. I'd say we have about twenty minutes before Sean makes his dramatic entrance."
The maître d' led us to a private corner table with sweeping views of Central Park. Christopher held my chair with practiced ease, then settled across from me with an air of satisfaction.
"You seem very certain about Sean's reaction," I observed, studying the menu without really seeing it.
"Sean Shaw has always been predictable in matters of possession." Christopher signaled the sommelier with a subtle gesture. "He may claim he wants a divorce, may even convince himself he's in love with Christina, but the moment he thinks he's losing you..." He let the thought hang unfinished.
"I'm not interested in playing games with my marriage," I said firmly, though something in Christopher's confident manner made me uneasy.
"No games necessary." He leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to an intimate murmur. "Just truth. Tell me, Angela - in all your years of marriage, has Sean ever fought for you the way he fights for Christina?"
The question hit harder than I expected, forcing me to look away. Christopher reached across the table, his fingers brushing mine with deliberate gentleness.
"Let me help you," he said softly. "You deserve better than being someone's backup plan."
Before I could respond, a commotion at the restaurant entrance drew our attention. Sean stood in the doorway, his usual polished appearance slightly disheveled, eyes scanning the room with barely contained fury.
Christopher's lips curved into a satisfied smile. "Right on schedule," he murmured, his hand still covering mine on the table. "Now, Angel, the real question is - are you ready to take control of your own story?"
Sean's gaze locked onto our table, his jaw tightening visibly at the sight of Christopher's intimate gesture. As he strode toward us with purposeful steps, I felt the weight of the moment settle around me like a heavy cloak.
The time for playing roles was over. Whatever happened next would reshape all our lives - I just wasn't sure if I was ready for the consequences of truth.
"Take your hands off my wife." Sean's voice carried clearly across the hushed restaurant, drawing curious glances from nearby diners.
Christopher didn't move, his amber eyes holding mine with quiet intensity.
"I believe that decision belongs to Angela, doesn't it?"