Total pages in book: 190
Estimated words: 181992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 181992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
He sighed. “Things would be easier if she’d long ago accepted that. But she’s always been someone who wants what she can’t or shouldn’t have. And if she does eventually get such things, she then stops wanting them.”
I opened my mouth to ask about the little comment Mimi made about Gracie … but then I thought better of it. If he’d thought there was any substance to it, he’d have surely questioned her about it. If I brought it up, there was a chance he might simply get insulted on Gracie’s behalf, feeling I was doubting the deceased woman’s integrity.
“What?” Dax prodded, having noticed I was about to speak.
Thinking fast on my feet, I lied, “I was just wondering if Mimi showed this same interest in you before Gracie died.”
“No, she didn’t,” he replied, switching gears. “I never got the sense that that was where her head was at in those days. So either she hid it well, or this was a later development.”
The weary look on his face made me ache for him. Much as I had more questions, I figured it would be best to let them lie. They weren’t important. Mimi wasn’t important. What mattered right then was somehow lifting his mood.
“Want me to vomit in her purse for you?” I asked, smiling when a surprised chuckle—weak though it was—bubbled out of him. “Don’t get me wrong, I’d relish slapping the piss out of her. But a stinging face can be soothed pretty fast and with little effort. The stench of puke clinging to the fibers of your purse, however? Yeah, that doesn’t go away so easily. And I’m all about leaving a lasting impression.”
His lips curving, he gave me a quick glance. “I appreciate the offer, but I’d rather you weren’t vomiting.”
“I wouldn’t mind.”
“I would. I want you healthy, not sickly—no matter the reason.”
Aw, how cute. “You sure?”
“Positive.”
“All right. But if you change your mind, let me know. I mean it, the offer will continue to stand.”
His lips twitched into a wider and more genuine smile. “I’ll bear that in mind.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
I’d just finished typing up tomorrow’s to-do list when Sabrina poked her head into my office. “I’m leaving now,” she told me. “I just wanted to first let you know that Mr. Rickman is still giving me excuses about his outstanding payments.”
A sigh of annoyance slipped out of me. “You finally managed to get him on the phone? Kudos.” We’d invoiced him three weeks ago, but he was still dicking around. “What reason did he give for having not coughed up the cash, even though it’s now mid-October?”
“The gist of the conversation was … it’s all a big mix-up—and no, he didn’t elaborate on what exactly that meant, despite that it didn’t actually explain anything—but it would be great if we could just go ahead with the event anyway and he’d pay us at a later date.”
On occasion, clients would try convincing us to allow them to pay off the full amount after the event. If there were extenuating circumstances, we agreed. But not always, because there were times said clients would keep on delaying it in the hope that we dropped it. Then we had to take legal action, and that was both costly and messy. “What did you say?”
“I told him that would only happen if he could get you to agree to it, so he’d need to call you directly because I wouldn’t be passing on that message for him. He made a few mutterings and then eventually promised he’d settle the payments by the end of tomorrow.” Her mouth curved. “You scare him.”
I let out a delicate snort. “I don’t know why. I’m a delight.”
“You are. You’re also a take-no-shit person, which means you scare people like him who like to toss out shit. They know they can’t manipulate you. Plus, you’re Dax Mercier’s wife now. That bumps up the fear factor.”
“Hmm, well, if he pays tomorrow, great. If not, we’ll be pulling out of the event.” Yawning, I rubbed at the back of my neck. “Any other issues?”
“Nope.”
“Good. I need to unplug.” I’d had way too much screen time today, and I was feeling the sting of it. Literally. My eyes were dry and stinging like a bitch. “I could really do with a nap.” And some eye drops.
Sabrina’s brow pinched. “Do you have time to take one before you meet Dax’s family at the restaurant?”
“No, but I’ll be fine.” To celebrate the birthday of his godmother, Sarah, Kensey had organized a celebratory meal. As Dax’s wife, I was invited.
“Well, enjoy your dinner,” said Sabrina. “And wear the little black dress you bought when we went shopping last weekend.”
“That’s my plan.” Unless Dax requested that I allow him to choose my outfit for the evening, though I doubted he would.
He’d done it twice more since the morning Lowe had appeared at our villa. And I’d noticed a pattern. It only happened on non-work days, and only if we would be spending pretty much the entire day apart. Which didn’t clue me in as to Dax’s motivation. And neither did he, knowing his evasiveness frustrated me.