Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 97865 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97865 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
I knock on the window, getting his attention. When he peers up at me, I hold up my hand, motioning I’ll be right out. My mom is right. I’m an Evans. I got this.
**
On the ride home, I make a mental note of everything I need to do. My mother refused to let me out of the house before I showered, so that’s done. Food is next. Now that I have some of my fire back, I’m starving. Then it’s time to conquer the world. Find a job. Maybe reach out to my old instructors and beg for referrals. Worst case, I can move to Antarctica, where no one knows me, and get a job as a cook. Maybe find a nice fisherman and live out my days smelling like fish and happiness.
Okay. Scratch all that. Let’s just start with the basics. If memory serves, a nice packet of beef ramen is waiting for me at my apartment. . .
“Um, James.” I look out the window. “This isn’t the way to my apartment.”
“I’m sorry, Miss Evans. I have strict orders to deliver you straight to Mr. Monroe if and when you leave your parents’.”
That conniving. . . “James. Stop the car.”
“I was instructed not to, Miss Evans.”
“Fine, I’ll jump out.”
My heart rate quickens, and my breathing comes out in chopped pants. I can’t do this. I’m not ready to hear his excuses. I’m not strong enough to tell him no. Because I miss him so much. And I refuse to give in to temporary pleasure only for the long-term pain that will follow.
“James, I’m serious. Pull over and open this damn door!” He finally does as I say. The door to the car opens, and I hurry out, straight in front of Theo’s building.
Theo stands there barefoot in a pair of fitted sweatpants and a T-shirt. His hands are hidden in his pockets. He looks at me, his face blank.
“More tricks from you? Nice. Tell James to take me home.”
“Not before we talk.”
“I have nothing to say to you. We have nothing to talk about.”
“We do.”
I throw my hands up. “I beg to differ.” I walk in the opposite direction, but he stops me.
“Five minutes. That’s all I ask. If you still want to leave after that, I’ll let you, and you’ll never hear from me again.”
I stall. He doesn’t deserve a minute of my time, let alone five. But, goddamn it, curiosity gets the better of me. “Five minutes.”
He nods and opens the door to his building. I follow, but not before turning around and giving James a nasty look. We ride the elevator in silence. I should have made him talk in the lobby. Going into his penthouse is just asking for trouble. He opens his door, and I walk in, hating how much I missed the unique smell of his place. The TV is on, playing a movie, and I hate that I want to know what he’s watching.
“Would you like some wine?”
“No—yes. Yes, I’ll take some.” Combining booze with my unstable emotions and an empty stomach is a bad mix, but I need the distraction. He hands me a glass, and I accept it, sitting at the island. Theo stands across from me and pours a bourbon. “Your clock is ticking. Why am I here?”
He picks up a large envelope from the island and slides it to me.
“What is this?”
“Open it.”
His face is blank. Cautiously, I open the folder and pull out the items inside. Photos. Images of— “What the hell is this?” My stomach clenches, and a wave of nausea travels up my throat. “Jesus.” My hands shake, and a single tear flows down my cheek. I drop them onto the counter. “Why are you showing me—”
“Seven years ago, my father introduced me to a man named Charles Hill.”
“Theo, I don’t care. I can’t—”
“I have four more minutes,” he states. “Charles Hill runs a small, successful development company. I’d just finished my undergrad, and my father invited me to dinner. Charles was there, and they shared their vision of a merger with me. Monroe Investment Corp and the Hill Group would grow together. The same night I met Charles Hill, I met his daughter.” A chill runs down my spine. “I was asked to take Alana out. Show her a good time. Understand, I was fresh out of college. I was wild and had a chip on my shoulder. So I took her out. We got wasted, went to a hotel, and had sex—”
I quickly stand, photos falling to the ground. “I don’t want to know or hear—”
“Three minutes,” he says. “My memories of that night are foggy, but I know I woke up alone. Alana and I saw each other a few more times throughout the summer, but it was casual. When the fall semester started, I left for Europe to complete my master’s. I never spoke to her again.”