Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 121723 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121723 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
She eyed me warily as if I might suddenly lunge at her. But then a line creased between her eyebrows. “Lucifer.”
I paused. “Excuse me?”
“The cat,” she clarified. “He’s been throwing up and ripping out chunks of his fur on his legs. Maybe there’s something in the carpet in our new place he doesn’t like. I don’t know for sure, but he hasn’t handled the move well at all.”
I blinked slowly to illustrate my indifference, and it prompted her to continue.
“I brought him back.” She lifted her chin in an attempt to look confident. “He’s already curled up on his favorite chair in the library.”
“You brought your cat to my house for a visit?” I patronized.
She scowled like I was the one being unreasonable. “This was his home. He wants to stay here.”
The word cracked through my mind like a bolt of lightning. No. That cat was a constant reminder of her and Royce, and everything I couldn’t have. “I do not care what your cat wants.”
Marist’s sigh was heavy with frustration. “I know you don’t, but Royce is hardly home as it is, and once he’s the chief operating officer, it’ll be worse.”
I straightened. “Allen’s naming him COO?”
“At the end of the third quarter.”
Judging by her guarded expression, she expected me to be upset about this, but . . . I wasn’t.
“Good,” I said. “He deserves it, and that puts us one step closer to a Hale resuming the top role at HBHC.”
My offhanded compliment surprised her.
As a pleased look warmed her expression, it was contagious, and when I felt the urge to soften, I railed against it.
“But the cat leaves when you do, Marist. I hate the thing.”
“I don’t believe you.” She put her hands on her hips, and a triumphant smile burned on her lips. “I saw you petting him once, remember?”
Irritation coursed hotly through my system.
“Once,” I emphasized, but it did no good. She’d caught me on one of the rare occasions when I’d decided to stroke the cat behind the ears. I’d found the animal’s rumbling purr oddly soothing.
“You were smiling,” she said. “And you never smile.”
I didn’t like her accusation. Everything I’d worked toward—all that I’d ever wanted in my life—had vanished in an instant. My entire world had fallen apart.
“I haven’t had much to smile about recently,” my tone turned cruel, “but I’ll take your note and make sure to put it on my schedule.”
Tension held her posture stiff. “You don’t even smile when you beat me in chess anymore.”
“Because you let me win,” I snapped. “There’s no victory in your pity.”
Marist shook her head. “Like I told you last time, you’re giving me too much credit.”
We stood across from each other at an impasse, and the silence between us amplified in the tense air, building toward a breaking point. I’d lied when I said I’d been forced to cancel my afternoon meetings. I’d come home to achieve release. It meant I needed her gone from my home so I could cast her out of my thoughts, which was impossible to do while I stared at her.
She abruptly whispered it. “I’m sorry I didn’t come that last month for our match. I tried to, but—”
“I know.” An uncomfortable sensation, not unlike pain, gripped my chest.
One afternoon a month, she’d drive an hour down to the correctional facility in Norfolk where I was held, and we had played our game with the prison’s chipped chess set. The first few visits were painfully uncomfortable for both of us. My pride didn’t want her to see me like that, but I couldn’t deny her. I badly needed the mental escape she provided.
I’d confessed in an email to Royce how her visits were keeping me grounded during a difficult time. They’d become a bright spot to look forward to every month, and he’d indulged me and allowed it. He trusted me around his wife when other people were present, but Royce and Marist had moved out the day before I’d been released, taking an apartment in Boston close to HBHC headquarters.
Either Marist hadn’t heard me, or she felt compelled to keep going. “I wasn’t allowed to wear any jewelry except my wedding ring whenever I visited. I knew that was the rule.” It was unsettling how she sounded ashamed when she had no reason to. “I thought I’d taken it all off, but—”
My gaze slipped down to her right hand and the blue sapphire nested between two diamonds. “You forgot about Julia’s ring.” I frowned. It wasn’t my first wife’s ring anymore, it was Marist’s, and I needed to correct that. “I misspoke. The ring I gave you.”
“I wear it all the time,” she said softly, and I appreciated it. I was intelligent enough to know she wasn’t wearing it for me. The ring meant a lot to Royce, but I was pleased, regardless. I’d made several poor decisions when it came to Marist, but this gift wasn’t one of them.