Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 106001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
And the name flashing on the screen is Ian.
34
PARTNERS IN CRIME
Harlow
I scramble.
Hopping off the desk, jerking down my skirt, hunting frantically for my panties.
Where the hell are they?
“Are you going to answer it?” I whisper hiss as I search for a white scrap of lace.
“Yes. He might be here,” Bridger says, cool and calm.
How the hell does Bridger do that? Stay centered like that? My heart is exploding. If my dad’s in this building…
I will die.
I have to get dressed. As I smooth my skirt, I scan the carpeted floor of his office, then I spot them.
I seize my undies like they’re contraband. Bridger draws a breath then answers the phone. “Hey, Ian, what’s going on?”
His normal voice. His normal greeting. I’ve heard it before. At different times over the years. Right now, it makes me feel like I’m the one who’s been caught cheating.
There’s a pause.
I yank on my damp panties. I’m surprised I’m not tripping on my freaking face. It’s a miracle.
I adjust my clothes, try to calm my racing heart as Bridger’s eyebrows rise. “No kidding? Congratulations.”
But I don’t hear an exclamation point in his tone. Still, I’m racing to puzzle out what the congratulations is for. Then, with an all too familiar awareness, I’m certain.
That’s why my father called me too, seconds ago.
As my dad talks to Bridger, I mouth, He married Vivian?
A nod.
I knew this was coming. I absolutely knew this was coming. And still, I hurt for her already. I hurt for the inevitable end that’s probably coming sooner than she can even imagine. I picture Isla searching for my father earlier this week with worry in her eyes, emotion in her voice. She wasn’t merely looking for her boss. She was looking for…
I can’t even say the words her lover in my head.
This marriage will be his shortest.
But then, I stop thinking of them, since it’s time to plan my own exit from this building right now.
Just in case Dad’s here.
With the phone pressed to his ear, Bridger asks, “Tonight? Now? Aren’t you going on a honeymoon?”
Another pause. My stomach is an upside-down amusement park ride.
“Right. And yes, of course I want to celebrate with you,” he says, placating the beast. “That’s fantastic. I just didn’t realize you were back in the city.”
I dart my gaze around the office, heading for the door. But Bridger darts out a hand, stopping me. He curls his palm around my arm. But it’s not affectionate. It’s…calculating. We are partners in crime, and we need to plan our getaway.
“You’re home?” That’s a few blocks away. “Yeah. Why don’t we just meet at McCoy’s? I can be there in an hour.” A shorter pause. “Sooner. Sure, I can be there sooner. Ava’s Bistro instead.” A pause. “Right, right. It’s closer and Hunter will be there shortly,” he says, and I hope my father doesn’t realize why Bridger’s repeating this info—for my sake. “Yes, that makes sense. And have you talked to Harlow?”
I press my palm to the door, needing something to hold onto.
“Hopefully, she’ll call you back soon.”
My dad’s chuckle is loud enough for me to hear.
“Yeah, I’m sure she’s more of a texter,” he says.
Yes, that generation and all.
Another reminder of the age difference.
Bridger closes his eyes. Shame and shock wash over his features. Then, he drags his hand over his mouth.
I swallow, roughly. I’m on his mouth. He’s wiping me away while he talks to my dad.
He opens his eyes. “See you soon and congratulations again.”
Then he hangs up. Lets go of my arm. Stares vacantly out the window. Then back at me. “They eloped yesterday. They’re back in New York. Vivian has to work this week at the agency. He wants to take all of us out to dinner to celebrate,” he says, telling me everything I’ve already figured out. “When you didn’t answer, he called Hunter. And Hunter’s going to dinner too. Before his flight.”
Bridger’s tone is laced with guilt and self-loathing.
Like he just came this close to being caught.
Terrible thoughts prick at my brain.
This can never work.
This company will always come between us. My father will always come between us.
How the hell could we ever be something for real?
Lucky 21 is where I am right now.
Lucky 21 is where I seduced him.
Lucky 21 belongs to the two of them.
And I can’t ask Bridger can we ever be a real thing?
We aren’t there yet. We aren’t at that level. We are at the panties-on-the-floor level, the tryst-on-the-desk level, the cover-up-quickly-and-get-the-hell-out-of-there level.
I need some control. I need it fast. My life is spiraling.
I raise my face, hold my chin up high, and I blurt out the first thing on my tongue. “I’m freaking out. I’m seriously scared. This is so risky.”
He winces but only for a second. “I know.”
That’s it? I know? He’s supposed to reassure me. To tell me we’ll figure this out. We’ll face it together.