Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 133321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 667(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 667(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
“I didn’t use you. I want you. I want to be what he couldn’t be for you and you know that. That’s why you agreed to go out with me.”
“I went to dinner with you because—it was a bad night. It was—I’d seen—”
“Grayson all over the papers with another woman. I know. I thought finally you saw the truth. He was always a ladies’ man. Always, Mia. He fucked my woman in college. He fucked everyone’s woman and yet, you said his fucking name in my home. You can’t get over him.”
“Maybe I never will,” I say. “My heart is still with him. I can’t change that, and you can’t change it because you’re like his stalker ex-girlfriend. All you care about is hurting him. You never wanted me.”
His cellphone rings and he ignores it. “Stalker ex-girlfriend? Holy fuck, Mia. Did you write out that insult before coming in here?”
“You’re obsessed to the point of it being scary. I don’t want to be in the middle of this. Part of me wants to move to another city. I just want out.”
“If I proved you wrong about Grayson—if I made you see that you matter, not him? Then what?”
“My God, Ri. What would happen if you did fuck me? Would you take out an announcement in The New York Times to make sure Grayson knew? Stop trying to fuck me already and if you can’t, then let me out of my contract. Be a decent person and let me go.”
He scrubs his jaw and looks away before fixing me in a stare. “You’re a damn good attorney. I won’t let you out of your contract. I’ll back off and hope that one day you see that I have a sincere interest.”
“The day you stop going after Grayson, I won’t even know who you are. Maybe introduce yourself then.”
“I’m not going after Grayson.”
“Maybe not actively, but we both know if you get the chance, you’ll take it. I don’t want to be a part of that, Ri. Am I staying or are you letting me go?”
The phone on his desk buzzes and Tabitha speaks over the intercom. “Someone named RJ says it’s urgent. He’s on line two. Do you want it?”
Ri positively scowls. “Yeah. I want it.” He looks at me. “Don’t move.” He stalks to his phone, grabs it, and picks up the line. “I told you not to call me at the office. I fucking meant it. I’ll call you back.” He hangs up and looks at me. “You have a contract, Mia. I’m not letting you out of it.” His jaw sets hard. “Go back to work.”
I get the sense he suddenly wants me out of his office and that it’s connected to that call. I don’t fight his demand. I don’t have to. He doesn’t know about me and Grayson. I’d know. He’s just pissed at me, but he won’t let me go. Not when I’m a weapon against Grayson. I open the door to exit and instinct has me turning to face his office before I push his door shut, and just in time to see him reach in his left drawer and pull out a phone and it’s not the one that was normally in his pocket.
I quickly shut the door and I don’t look at Tabitha. I walk past her and to my office that I enter and shut the door. The minute I’m inside, I pull my phone from my pocket and send a group text: Someone named RJ called the office phone and Ri got pissed. He told him not to call him here. When I was leaving he didn’t know I turned around and saw him open his left drawer and pull out a phone and it wasn’t the one he normally had in his pocket. I think it was a burner phone and I think he was calling that RJ person.
Blake answers immediately: We’ll get the number off the phone and tap it.
But how? I think. Surely Ri will take that phone home tonight. I’m shocked he kept it in his desk at all but he must have a reason.
My phone buzzes again with another message from Blake: You did good, Mia. FYI we haven’t swept your office yet. Don’t hold conversations that could be damaging.
I inhale and fight the urge to call Grayson. That’s what he was telling me. Don’t call Grayson and Grayson can’t call me or text me. He’s silent and I wonder if he was listening. I wonder if there was something I said that he didn’t like and it’s killing me. I can’t take it. I dial his number. “Mia,” he breathes out into the phone.
“Did you—”
“Every word.”
“You didn’t—”
“You don’t want in the middle of this war. I heard you. You said that to me, too.”
“I was hurt and angry when I said that to you.”