Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 97525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
I have a girlfriend.
My hands curled into fists and anger took center stage over my hurt.
Brant didn't come home that night. I used my key to let myself into his house, telling myself I was staying there to surprise him with breakfast, not because I wanted him to hold me all night and reassure me that I was loved. Instead, I spent the night alone in his bed, hugging a body pillow and trying not to let my mind wander to Lee and what he was doing.
I closed my eyes, pulled the blanket tighter around me, and wished it was Brant's arm. Finally, around three in the morning, I fell asleep and didn't wake until noon.
Chapter 27 - Brant
When you truly love someone, you cannot walk away. No matter what they do. No matter the lies from their mouth, or the actions from their bodies, you tie yourself tightly to their sail and vow to be there through thick and thin. Let the wind blow you where it may. Even if that place is a crash. Even if that place tears you apart and kills anything good.
Layana was always a storm, but one I entered without hesitation.
Chapter 28
“Her name is Molly Jenkins. She's a med student at UCLA. Dean's List there, was a scholarship athlete until she damaged her ACL.” The private investigator delivered the information along with a dark blue folder, which he set in the middle of my desk. We were in my home office, the location chosen with discretion in mind.
"What sport?" I opened the folder and flipped through its contents, each image of the athletic blonde making me grit my teeth harder. She was prettier than me. Younger. Perkier. Was this what Lee liked?
"Gymnastics."
I sat back in my leather desk chair, taking my time with the information, which was divided into tabs. Rotating slowly in the chair, I scanned her transcripts, social media posts—even her college application essay was here. I didn’t see what I wanted, and I looked up at the man, whose name had slipped my mind. “So, what's wrong with her?"
“Excuse me?"
"I don't want her resume. I want her weaknesses. Does she do drugs? Have a kid? Attend orgies on the weekend?"
His eyes darted to the folder. "My report is very comprehensive, Miss Fairmont.”
"And leaves anything negative out." I sat back in my seat. "Where's the dirt?"
"I didn't find any." He drummed his fingers on his knee. “She’s young. Too young to have skeletons. Seems like a sweet kid.”
Oh great. Hot and sweet. A gymnast, so she could probably bend in ways that would kill a normal woman. "Where does she work?"
"Olive Garden. The one in Stonestown."
“I need a copy of her schedule, what days she works."
He nodded and the downward tilt of his head revealed the hair plugs that dotted his scalp. "Anything else?"
"No." I sighed. "Not yet."
I pulled out my desk drawer and withdrew a checkbook. I quickly wrote out a check, selecting a generous amount that would properly incentivize the man. I carefully pulled off the check and stood, holding it out. “Please call me when you know more."
He grinned, revealing a row of crooked teeth, their tips pointing in more directions than a pencil holder. "Yes, Ms. Fairmont."
I gave him a polite smile and picked up my cell. As soon as my office door closed behind him, I made my call.
Chapter 29
I'd never taken down a girl before. My prep school didn’t have the Gossip-Girl types who killed hopes and dreams while modeling couture. My high school friends were nerds. The women at Stanford were laser-focused on grades, internships and futures, no spare effort available to be wasted on things like boys and rivalries.
So, I was entering this game a virgin. But, in my own estimations, a well-equipped one. Financed and intelligent. And ... as a small point for my side ... I’d already screwed her boyfriend. I had some inkling of what he liked and had confidence in his attraction to me, despite the fact that she looked nothing like me. It was as if he'd visited an encyclopedia, scrolled to the section 'Opposite of Layana' and selected her photo. Go figure.
I also had the element of surprise on my side. I was alone in this battle, with no one aware of my scheming, no one’s defenses raised. I'd be attacking a sleeping kitten. An innocent, fragile kitten. Ripping her away from Lee and severing any chance of their reconnection.
I should have felt guilty, should have had compassion, but I didn’t. Lee was, or would be, mine. No matter what.
I stood in the steam shower, my muscles tight from my morning run, the strum of hot water lulling them into submission. I inhaled the thick, moisture-filled air and wondered what Brant was up to. He had cancelled our dinner last night and hadn’t responded to my texts this morning.