Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 89820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
How does one come from absolutely nothing and wind up going to an Ivy League college?
Is Brooks Gentry… an underdog?
Our eyes connect for a beat too long, and his start to fill with confusion, then concern. That’s when I realize he asked me something, and like a spaz, I’m just staring open-mouthed at him, lost in my own thoughts.
“Oh. Yeah.” I rummage through the papers and find it. “It’s kind of bare. Says they were coming home from a wedding in Kennebunkport and got pulled over on the Maine Turnpike going ninety, weaving all over the place. She had a blood alcohol content of .16, which is twice the legal limit.”
He reads it. “She told me he was driving.”
I blink. “What?”
“He made her switch because he was fall-down-drunk, way worse than she was. She didn’t want him to drive, but he insisted. They were arguing and he wouldn’t give up the keys. And she was terrified. There’s abuse there—not physical but emotional. He’s a typical asshole, control-freak type, taking advantage of her.”
I grab the report and look at it. “So she was afraid to disobey him. Afraid of losing everything.”
He nods, looking down at his hands. “It’s a shitty position to be in.”
I watch him as he says those words, and now I’m starting to understand why he connects so well with Courtney. At first, I’d thought it was a romantic thing, which is completely inappropriate. But now, I suspect it may be something different.
No wonder he’d been so incensed when I assumed he’d been given everything in life on a silver platter. Sounds like maybe life hasn’t been all privilege and ease for him like I thought?
“You were raised by a single mom?” I ask.
His eyes meet mine and for the first time, there’s nothing smug or arrogant about the way he’s looking at me.
“Yeah,” he says. “I was.”
“She put you through Yale?” I ask.
“Harvard,” he corrects me, “Then Yale. And no, she didn’t. She would have if she could have. I got a full ride for playing football.”
“Huh.” Crossing my arms, I lean back, studying him in a slightly new light, imagining him pulling himself up by his bootstraps, working his ass off at a top university, and landing a good job.
Why does that sound like someone else I know?
Oh, shit.
I refuse to even entertain the possibility that Stranger88 is Brooks Gentry, so I push the thought as far away from my mind as possible. “All right. What’s our next move?”
14
The call comes in while Tenley and I are working in the conference room.
“We should just go through it all, line by line.” Tenley drops a giant binder in front of me.
I grimace. If there’s one sure way to bore me to death, it’s that. Apparently, James Perry was involved in a lawsuit with a couple of his waiters a few years back who alleged he wasn’t paying them fairly. It’s a stretch, but anything we can do to throw shade on his character at this point is a win.
We’ve been balls-to-the wall all week, getting everything ready for the courtroom.
So much so, the only times I’ve been able to converse with my stranger have been after midnight. We’ve been keeping the streak up, though I can’t say either of us have been getting much sleep.
It’s okay. When I’m talking to her, it’s just as invigorating as sleep. It’s refreshing and relaxing all the same. But damn if I don’t drag through most of the day when I’m supposed to be dazzling the partners for this promotion.
Doesn’t matter. Being in the courtroom invigorates me, too. With the case we’re building, I know I’ll knock ‘em dead. And that’s what matters. Results. That’s what’s going to get me this partnership.
“Brooks?” Shelly, the executive assistant, pokes her head in.
I look up, everything swimming around me. I didn’t shave this morning because I finished talking to my stranger at seven and I needed to get Jace up and to school because Ellie was hungover again. I can usually hide the lack of sleep, but I’m going on my fourth day of hardly any sleep and it’s catching up with me.
“Yeah?” I ask, which turns into a yawn.
“You have a call. From a Mrs. Johnson.”
I blink, and it takes me a while to process the name. Mrs. Johnson, from Sapphire Shores Elementary. Jace’s school. Why is she calling my office? She usually calls my cell if she needs me which is rare since she’s supposed to call my sister first.
My sister. Who is…
Connecting the dots doesn’t happen automatically, but eventually understanding trickles in. Where the hell is Ellie? I’d left her hungover in her bed three hours ago.
And my cell phone is off. I’ve been turning it off every day while working with Tenley. It’s a requirement to be in a conference room with her.