Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 69517 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69517 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
We need to talk.
I’ve spent the better part of nearly two decades avoiding “talking.” There’s nothing to say. Betrayal is the ultimate sin. It cuts off the tongue of the offender. Words are cheap and I’m anything but cheap.
Unlocking my office, I step inside and make my way over to my desk. As annoyed as I was to have to eat Greek takeout on the way here, I’m glad Perry forced me to. I don’t want to have this conversation on an empty stomach. If my gut can handle Ash’s canned food, I think it can handle the surprisingly delicious gyro from a cheap hole-in-the-wall restaurant he’d recently discovered.
While I wait, I text Keaton.
Me: Explain your texts.
The dots move and stop as he replies. An echo of the elevator dinging can be heard in the lobby. I pocket my phone and listen for the clacking of heels. Within seconds, the woman who tried to ruin my life appears in my office doorway.
Meredith Baldridge.
She’s perfect as ever—on the outside. Her blond hair is sleek and straight. A form-fitting black dress hugs her endless curves. Spiked heels make her taller than normal. Expensive tits all but spill out of the low-cut V of her dress.
Her agenda is quite obvious.
Too bad I’m not biting at the worm she’s dangling on her hook.
“Mer,” I say in a bored tone. “Please, have a seat.”
She flings her hair over her shoulder and struts over. The hem of her dress rides up with each long stride she takes.
Flawless.
Meredith has always been perfection.
I prefer messy and silly and sassy as hell.
Thinking about Ash nearly brings a smile to my face. I’ll be damned if I let that creep out, though, and have Meredith thinking she earned it. This woman will never get my smiles ever again. She’s lucky I’m giving her my time right now.
“You look tired, Winny,” she purrs, taking her seat across from me. She leans forward, letting her dress gape a bit to show the barely hidden red lace of her bra.
“So do you.”
She blinks at my words and stiffens slightly. “Uh, yes. Things are…stressful lately.”
“Because of the stalker?”
Her perfectly plucked brows pinch together. “That too. Well, there’s just so much to it really.”
You don’t say. You’re a conniving bitch, Meredith, and I’m onto your game. Ulrich had lots of interesting things to show me this afternoon.
“That involves me somehow?”
“Everything in this city involves you,” she says in a flirty voice. “You know that. It’s one of the things I’ve always loved about you. Your unwavering authority. You’re the man who runs everything and knows it.”
To think I used to fall for her adulation. When I was a teenager, I was a fucking idiot, too busy being dazzled by her adoration and blowjob skills. Looking back, she was just playing me. I was a tool for her to use.
I’m no one’s tool now.
“You flatter me.” I lean back in my chair, arching a brow. “I’m assuming you’ll get to the point of this meeting soon.”
She lets out a measured sigh. “I’m sorry for what happened when we were kids. That was a lifetime ago and I was a foolish girl who made foolish decisions. I realize that now. I’ve spent years regretting the day I hurt you.”
Blah, blah, fucking blah.
“Hmm.”
“I recently took a long hard look at what I really wanted in life.” She leans forward again, reaching a manicured hand across the desk toward me. “You. It was always you.”
My bland, unaffected expression or the fact I don’t reach to touch her back doesn’t deter her.
“I’m leaving Duncan,” she tells me, lifting her chin. “And not just because he’ll be bankrupt by the end of the year. He’s…well, he’s a useless idiot who can’t even get his dick up half the time.”
So cold this vicious barracuda.
“Poor Duncan,” I mutter. “His wife doesn’t want him because he’s about to be poor and he can’t fuck.”
“It’s so much more than that,” she mumbles, unbothered by my sarcasm. “He’s weak. I mentioned to him I had a stalker and you know what he said?”
“I could never presume to think like Duncan, so no, I have no idea what he said.”
“That I should stay inside and stop going out so much.” Her lip curls up. “As though that would stop a stalker.”
“Did you really call me here to complain about your marriage, because if so, I don’t have the time or patience for it?”
“My point is a real man would protect his woman.” She leans forward again. “You would protect me.”
“Before you tried to fuck me over when we were teenagers, perhaps, but you can’t seriously be deluding yourself into thinking I would now.”
Her painted-red lips purse into a pout. “You’re still not angry about the past. I know you better than that, Winny.”
“You’re right. I honestly don’t care anymore. About you or that time in my life.”