Mister West by R.J. Lewis (animal farm read .TXT) 📕

here and I want to turn back. The nerves are climbing up my throat. I want to vomit.

The car stops and the driver unlocks the doors. He gets out and moves to the trunk. The car jostles as he removes my suitcase. I’m not moving. I stare ahead, not even thinking. I’m scared. Really scared. Because I sort of know what I’m going to expect.

I read about Aidan West.

I did my homework.

He was right. Oh, he was so right when he warned me I would not like him. Well, he used stronger words. He expressed I would hate him, but I can’t do that.

Is his past self as bad as everyone warned me?

Yes.

Yes, it is.

Is this going to be an astronomical task if he does not remember me?

Also yes.

It’s why I’m terrified right now, but hopeful too. I think he’ll see me and get a feeling. He’ll know that he knows me. He’ll know deep down that he loves me.

I hope so, anyway.

“It’s okay,” I whisper. “It’s okay, Ivy. You can do this.  Look how far you've come. How bad can it be?”

Shaking, I open the door and step out. I nearly trip over my feet because I’m not thinking straight. The driver rolls my suitcase up to me.

“Thank you so much,” I say, and then I’m digging into my purse, pulling out cash. I leave him a huge tip and he grins at me, looking pleased.

He slips back into the car and drives out, leaving me completely alone. I take hold of the suitcase handle and turn to the house. I move slowly, taking my time getting to the front door. There are steps and the suitcase is way too heavy for me to climb up them. I ditch the suitcase at the bottom, hopeful that Aidan will help me bring it in.

I climb up the steps and hover outside the door. I run my hands down my body, flattening out any wrinkles. I push my hair behind my ears. I recently dyed a bunch of strands red because I know how much he loved those. I’m looking fresh. I’m looking good.

This is it.

I raise my finger and press down on the doorbell. I can hear it out here, the loud chime, my entrance broadcasted to him.

I wait a few minutes.

Then I can hear footsteps on the other side, but they’re sharp, pointed. I don't like that sound, I realize.

The door opens. I don’t know why, but my eyes are on the floor, peering intently at the source of the sound. I see red heels and long smooth legs. I look up. I’m looking straight into the eyes of a blonde-haired woman. Her hair is chin length and razor straight.

My chest sinks because I recognize her instantly.

Nina Hamilton.

No, no, no.

“Babe,” she calls out, looking me over with a raised brow, “there’s a homeless girl on your porch and I think she’s about to sell me something.”

My heart is beating heavily. “No,” I quickly say. “I’m Aidan’s personal assistant –”

“She’s calling you by your first name!” she interrupts, looking extra disgusted by me. “We don’t want what you’re selling.”

She slams the door hard on my face.

Bitch.

I feel weak everywhere.

I take a moment and breathe. I’m shaky and part of me wants to flee. Nina is back in Aidan’s life. Why didn’t Steven tell me this? He would have. He must not have known.

She was axed out of Aidan’s life for a reason. She was toxic. He cut her out, goddammit. Why the hell is she here? Unless…

My breaths slow.

Aidan doesn’t remember discarding her. He doesn’t know he left her. Oh, my fucking God.

This is over before it even began.

At the same time, I rationalize this can’t be over. He never loved her. She fuelled his chaos, and he was drawn to her for it.

This bitch doesn’t belong here.

I do.

Aidan is mine. He loves me.

I’m shaking, but not from nerves or panic. I’m shaking from anger. I ring the doorbell again, and this time I follow that by pounding on the door with my fist.

Fuck Nina Hamilton.

She’s about to meet Ivy Montcalm, and Ivy does not share her man.

Footsteps sound again. This time they’re heavier. I brace myself because I know who it is. I know who will answer.

The door whips open, and Aidan stands there in nothing but suit pants, his chest bare, his face covered in stubble, his hair longer than I’ve ever seen it before.

He looks directly in my eyes and his brows furrow.

“Who the fuck are you?” he growls.

I’m fucked.

…END OF PART ONE…

Author Note

If you’re reading this, then you made it past Book 1. Congrats. That was a long read, huh? I’ve learned recently that it’s best to write the full story and not cut corners, which means the reads are going to be longer, but it’s the only way I feel I can do my characters justice.

I want to thank you for reading! For giving my books a chance. You’re making an indie author super happy from this corner of the world (Ottawa).

I also want to thank Tina and Judy for their in-depth discussions with me about their separation journeys and their struggle with stepping out of a marriage and into a complicated world of being single all over again. I used both of their experiences to help write this book in the point of view of a woman who is struggling to let go after years of holding on. There are many truths to the scenes I wrote based on their memories. Thank you so much, ladies, for allowing me to incorporate your journeys into this long ass read!

Book 2, titled SIR, will be out any day now! I am working hard to make it worthwhile, which means fleshing out the scenes and giving these characters a HEA they deserve. Where Mister West was a slow burn, SIR is a scorcher filled with heat and romance and a lot of angst! <3

Reviews and ratings are welcome and appreciated! If you want to