Roommates with Benefits

New York, twenty years prior….

“Give me your word, Harry!” Ethan McCrery barked at his long-time friend.

Harold Henry watched as Ethan held out his hand for him to take. The Irish man was in a black mood. He claimed to have been betrayed and although Harry couldn’t understand it, he had to go along with it. It had always been him and Ethan, they were the old money—the ones brought up in private boarding schools. They had each other’s backs. If Ethan got into a fight, Harry punched first then got the details later. He guessed this was one of those times.

Who would have thought a self-made man like Adrian Ross would fall for a maid.

And who would have thought Ethan would fall for the same maid? He should have learned his lesson about falling for women who weren’t tailored for him.

Harry hadn’t bothered dating outside his social level. His father had picked his wife, his mother had made the wedding and marriage arrangements. He had, as expected, turned up both at his wedding and in his southern bride’s bed. He hadn’t failed his family. His first-born son Harry Junior, or Duke, was the product of his honeymoon as a dutiful son and husband.

Harry watched as Ethan broke into a new rant cursing his college friend, calling him every profanity heard on Earth or in the fire pit of Hell.

“How could he do that to me? He knew I was interested in Rosalinda.” Ethan stopped his pacing, and his face took on an awe-struck look. It was as if he was in a dream state. “She’s so beautiful, so soft. And her wild raven hair just begs to be touched. It kills me that I haven’t touched her hair or kissed her sweet red lips. Dear God, I would have taken in her brat. I would have even let the little lass call me ‘papa!’”

“Ethan.” Harry cleared his throat. Fear of his friend’s Irish temper deterred him from asking, but his duty as a friend pushed him on. “What about your wife? How do you expect to marry Rosalinda when you are still married?”

“Do you think that’s a problem?” Ethan sneered, a calculating expression on his face. “I’ll serve the woman divorce papers today if it means I would get to have Rosalinda. My beautiful rose.”

“Elizabeth will not allow it. Her father left everything to you. Everything she owns you control. And what would happen to Ethan Junior? Think of your son, my friend.”

“I am. Rosalinda would be such a wonderful mother to him. And as for Elizabeth,” he waved his hand in the air as if anything to do with her didn’t matter. “I’ll settle her with a large fortune. She’ll sign Ethan’s custody to us without a problem.”

Harry took his phone from his pocket when it rang. When he listened, it was a message from Dennis, and it wasn’t good. He dreaded telling Ethan, but there was no other way around it. “Ethan, there’s news.”

“What? Speak up man!”

“Adrian and Rosalinda—”

“What about them?”

“They are married Ethan. It’s done. You’ve lost her.”

“Never!”

Harry took off after his friend as he ran out of the building, he worked in. He sat in the passenger seat as Ethan pushed away his driver and got into his seat.

“Maybe I should drive?”

“Shut up.”

Ethan pulled out of the driveway like the devil was on his heels. The car’s tires skidded along the road. Every couple of miles it protested at being abused. Harry had never feared dying in a road accident until today. Ethan barked at the other drivers on the road, swearing at the traffic lights whenever they turned red, picking up a cop car as a tail.