Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 129460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
His military haircut would have you convinced that is the cause of his anal retentiveness, but I’m not convinced. He enjoys making people sweat far too much to be a mere drill sergeant.
“Very well.” Fitz’s focus shifts to Octavia. “Mr. Carson asked me to give you this.” He hands her the folded-up piece of paper Jack gave him earlier tonight before making a beeline for the closest exit.
I remember how well Octavia can read people when she asks, “A bit of a stiff?”
I loosen the collar on my new shirt before muttering, “A bit? That guy couldn’t be more robotic if he tried.” Once the starch in my clothes no longer restricts my movements, I straddle the bench in front of the squash court Jess is kicking ass on. “But he knows what he’s doing. You didn’t even know he was watching you the past two hours until he approached, did you?”
The same could be said for Jess, just for a far longer period.
I cough through my windedness when she throws her fist into my stomach before following the direction of her gaze to Jess’s court. “She’s having one hell of a game.”
I rope in my jealousy, but it has always been a hard fight with Jess. “Yeah, because her opponent is paying more attention to her ass than her swing.”
My back molars crunch together when Octavia replies, “Can you blame him? He’s asked her out a handful of times this season, and all he’s ever got is a maybe.”
“A maybe? What the fuck?” Jess gets hit on all the time, but her response is usually a straight-up ‘no,’ so I don’t know why this bozo is getting special treatment. “Maybe I should show him what happens when you can’t take a hint a girl isn’t interested.”
My eyes snap to Octavia when she mumbles, “Or maybe you should stop treating her as if she’s only a friend, and she’d give him a straight-up no.”
Out of all the people in the world, she should understand how difficult it is to be truthful with yourself, let alone those around you, but I guess things are different for us.
She spoke out.
I’m still a coward hiding who I am.
Disappointment hardens Octavia’s features when I instruct, “I’ll meet you out front in five.”
I leave before Jess mistakes the defeat on my face as something she did wrong.
Getting Jess to dine with Octavia and me was easy. I merely say the word ‘taco,’ and she is there with bells on, but getting her to leave was a whole other game. You’d swear she didn’t know she had the story of the century circulating agencies, looking for the biggest dollars.
No one but Jack’s security detail knows about the story, and only one is aware of how closely it ties in with Octavia and me—me.
Well, so I thought.
A second after walking Jess back to her apartment, I spot the burnt orange sprouts of Fitz’s hair popping up from the floor below. The fact he’s still around exposes he found something during his search of Jess’s apartment, not to mention the expression on his face when he notices my approach.
I understand his apprehension. I’m newer than a newborn baby, but Jack put me with him because he knows I will always have Octavia’s best interests at heart.
I won’t let anyone take her down.
Not even Jess.
“Did you find anything?”
Fitz pushes a napkin with a man’s name and number aside in his briefcase while muttering, “We ran checks. He’s nothing but an investment banker looking for a woman to warm his sheets.”
His confession soothes the crinkle between my brows in an instant. Jess loathes rich schmucks as much as me. Hence, me being a little short with Jack at the start. I don’t look at Octavia like other men do. I get she has that vulnerable appearance that makes you want to wrap her up in cotton wool, but her other features that bring men in by the droves I’m blind to.
Thank fuck. I’ve got enough issues now, so picture how bad it would be if I didn’t class Octavia as family even though she isn’t.
“But we’ve hit roadblocks with this guy.” My stomach’s gurgle shifts Fitz’s focus to me. “Do you know who he is?”
I shake my head because in all honesty, I don’t, but I know where the Post-it note came from.
It’s from the file in my room—the files that house every one of my grandfather’s dirty secrets but one.
That he didn’t care if you were related to him.
If you ‘enticed him,’ you were fair game.
“Where did you find that?” My voice is nothing like I’ve heard before. It is groggy, teeming with anger, and bristling with worry.
The shame I can’t let go of is slowly drowning me, but if everyone knows…
That’s not something I can consider.
I don’t share my story because I don’t want people to know it.