Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Inhaling deeply, I nod, then let the hysterical laughter come out.
“Well, at least you don’t have to worry about pregnancy. You have a good day, Mr. Powers.” That’s enough humiliation for today, or any other day. I’m about to hang up.
“Raven.” His voice stops me.
“What?”
“I haven’t been with your mother, or anyone else, since the day I took your virginity.” And then the line goes dead.
JETT
“Becca, call Doug Jefferson and tell him I’m passing on the Hopper case.” I walk past a stunned Rebecca who jumps up from her seat as if I’ve scared her.
“Yes, of course. Do I give him a reason?”
Glaring at her, I swing my massive office door open.
“I’m so sorry. Coffee?” she calls after me as I shut the door. She’ll bring me coffee and every kind of Danish since she knows she fucked up by questioning me.
I should just call it a day, I think, looking at my Rolex. It’s almost three. I spent way longer than I wanted to today in court, only to be hit with nonstop messages about taking this murder case as soon as I got out. It’s the type of case I should jump at: wealthy woman killing her husband of twelve years. She said it was because he had just found out he was dying and that it was a suicide. I can definitely work that, even with the lack of weapon or any real concrete testimony saying that he was indeed terminal.
It will be a major event. Paparazzi will eat it up. They need something since the Disciples case is over. Young, beautiful Mrs. Hopper, a former Playboy bunny, found depressed, older husband dead because he couldn’t handle going through a lengthy death.
Yeah, I’d kill it, but since I’ve fucked myself into a predicament, literally, the thought of work doesn’t hold any allure at the moment.
Raven.
My little Lolita, speaking her truths, not letting anything stop her.
Fucking balls.
I admire that. Today she put it all on the line, and I know I need to end it. Standing, I walk to my liquor cabinet and grab a bottle of whatever is closest, then drop back into my chair and spin around to look out of the giant office windows. I unscrew the top of the bottle and drink as though it’s water instead of fucking whiskey burning a path from my throat down to my esophagus.
Truths.
Secrets.
Lies.
I slam the bottle down and watch it mark my perfectly shined cherrywood desk. My phone vibrates. I ignore it. This is my time.
Right now. I need to sit here and drink and think. Leaning my head back, I envision her dropping her robe, her cherry lips parted…
With a snort, I sit up, reaching for the bottle, and bring it to my lips as I come to peace with what I’m finally ready to do.
“Mr. Powers?” Rebecca’s voice makes me spin my chair to face her. Her usual pleasant, nothing-fazes-me façade has evaporated.
“Yes?”
“I’m so sorry to bother you.” She clears her throat, and her eyes widen when I drink straight from the bottle.
“It’s just that… I mean, Rachel, that is, Ms. Stewart, is trying to reach you.” Her brown eyes hold concern, which makes me smile.
“You can go,” I say, propping my feet on the edge of the desk.
“Can I get you a glass? Or maybe call for Iain to bring the car for you?” She takes a step closer, and for a second, her thin form reminds me of Raven’s if I really squint.
Except she’s not.
“Did my fiancée leave a message?” After bringing the bottle to my lips, the warm burn starts to make me feel more like the real me. Fuck all this drivel in my head. So we had great sex. She had a fucking untouched pussy; that’s all this fascination was. And now it’s over. I’ll go home to Rachel. I’ll fuck her, saturate myself in her cunt, and erase all those thoughts and the smell and taste of orange blossoms and coconut.
Rachel is who I deserve. She is on the same path. Raven… well, Raven deserves the world. She’ll go to Stanford, make her mark.
“She said…” Rebecca shifts to another foot as if she’s nervous, but to be honest I had forgotten she was there.
“She said, hurry home, she has a surprise for you,” she blurts out, and her cheeks pinken.
“A surprise.” I throw my head back to laugh. God, only Rachel is fucked up enough to bring in another woman when Raven is here.
“Perfect.” I point the bottle at Rebecca and stand. “Yes, please call Iain.”
“Yes, Mr. Powers.” And for a second those words make my chest hurt, but they’re mere words. So what if my Lolita said them like the good girl she is? I need to focus on the future.
“One more thing?”
“Yes?”
“Is Raven coming in on Monday? I heard she wasn’t feeling well, and she wasn’t here today—”