Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 82945 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82945 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Gareth sits up straight. I watch his face closely, looking for the excitement I expect—but instead, there’s only worry, uncertainty. Even now, in this moment, with his ultimate goal so close at hand, he can’t be happy. He can’t accept that this is good. That he wants this.
“I’d need to discuss the move with my wife,” Gareth says cautiously.
“Discuss away,” Orin says. “That’s why I told you both at the same time. You don’t make solo decisions anymore.”
“But once we settle that—” Gareth stands, and finally, the smile I was expecting breaks across his face. “I’d be happy to work for you.”
“Wonderful,” Orin says, shaking Gareth’s hand.
“Now that’s out of the way, let’s celebrate.” Molly pulls a bottle of champagne from a cooler bag and breaks it open. “Here’s to a long life and a longer partnership.”
She hands out glasses. I accept mine, toast the others, take a long sip. Gareth watches me as he drinks. I know what he’s thinking—we’re moving to Boston, whether I like it or not.
But I meant what I said the night before.
What else do I have but an adventure with him?
I have nothing keeping me in Dallas. Nothing holds me back. No prospects, no future. Only him.
Besides, I liked the way he kissed me in bed. Intimate and warm. I dreamed about him, all right. I dreamed about an outdoor shower and his hands on my body.
“To family,” I say, and we all drink.
Chapter 26
Gareth
I finish packing the bags. Fiona’s up in the living room with Molly, finishing off another bottle of champagne. She can sleep on the flight back to Dallas.
I’m already thinking logistics. Contracts. Apartments. A new move, a new life. Taking on the Crowley family is like beginning over again. I’ll have to let some clients go—the Crowley network sprawls too wide and too deep. They’ll keep me too busy for some of my smaller jobs. I told Orin I wouldn’t give him special treatment, but we both know that’s bullshit.
Joining the family means loyalty to death.
Except what will that mean for Fiona? I worry about her as I finish getting our things together. When we inevitably stage our breakup and get our divorce, will Orin let her walk away? Will Molly try to patch things over? Will Fiona feel like she’s losing something all over again? I don’t want to drag her through that, not if I can help it, but we both know the deal.
Only I’m not sure why it’s worth chasing anymore.
I leave the room, heading in search of my fake-wife to let her know it’s time to hit the road, but someone calls my name. I pause, surprised, and hear it again, coming from a room off the main foyer on the first floor.
I step into the doorway. It’s the billiards room—two big pool tables with a bar across the far wall. A fire’s crackling in the fireplace.
And standing with stick in hand is Liam Crowley.
He chalks the tip, smiling at me, eyes squinted. I stare in surprise. I hadn’t expected to see him. I knew I’d have to deal with Liam again sooner or later—I couldn’t exactly work for his family without running into the man—but I thought I dodged this bullet.
Instead, the bullet’s here, and it’s staring at me with an aggressive smirk.
“How are you doing, Gareth?” he asks. “Father told me you were here. I take it the weekend went well?”
“It did,” I say stiffly. I remain in the doorway, caught between leaving and staying. “He offered to hire me.”
“That’s good, that’s good.” Liam puts the chalk down. “I knew he would. I told him to.”
My eyebrows raise. “You did?”
“Here’s the thing.” He comes around the table, strolling to the bar. He’s wearing black slacks and a tucked-in white shirt, sleeves rolled to his forearms, showing off his tattoos. “Lawyers are a necessary evil. They’re unpleasant, mainly because dealing with them means dealing with the law. And I find the law extremely inconvenient.”
“I’m sure you do,” I murmur, eyeing him cautiously. I don’t really love the way he’s characterizing my profession, but he’s also correct. Most people only interact with a lawyer when their life isn’t going well.
“My thinking on lawyers is simple. Find the best liar and hire him.” Liam pours a glass of whiskey for himself. “Want one?”
I slowly shake my head. “Are you implying that I’m the best liar?”
“Exactly,” he says, raising the glass. “See, Gareth, I could smell it on you from the moment we met. All those lies you tell.”
“About what, exactly?” I ask, anger rumbling, but also something worse. Worry. Anxiety. “I’ve been nothing but honest with your father.”
“Have you?” Liam throws back his drink. “From my perspective, there’s one glaring problem. Her name’s Fiona.”
My jaw tightens. What the fuck does he know? I’ve been careful. I put down my paper trail and made sure to backdate it. I paid out bribes. I made sure if anyone went looking, they’d find only proof that I’ve been telling the truth.