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)
“No comment.”
He laughs sharply. “Don’t tell me you’re fucking your fake wife now too?”
“What can I do for you this morning? Are you in need of legal services, or are you just prying into my personal life?”
He sighs. I can see him already, rubbing his face in frustration. “We need to talk about Liam Crowley.”
I sit very still, slowly straightening my spine. “What happened?”
“Nothing bad. Not yet at least.” He lets out an annoyed grunt. “I got word that Liam’s been asking questions about my family. Nothing too nefarious. Just looking into our dealings. But mostly focusing on my friendship with you.”
I close my eyes. “I can see how that might make you unhappy.”
“That’s one way of putting it. Another way is fucking furious that the Crowleys are anywhere near me.”
I run a hand through my hair. “Look, things are good with them. Orin offered me the job, so long as I move to Boston.”
There’s a pause. “That’s good,” he says, sounding suspicious. “But if that’s the case, why’s Liam digging into you?”
“Due diligence, maybe.” I squeeze my eyes shut. “He also thinks there’s something strange about my relationship with Fiona.”
“Oh, god damn it,” Carmine growls. “I knew that shit was going to blow back on me.”
“It’s not all about you, if you recall,” I say through my teeth. I shouldn’t get pissed at Carmine, but I find myself more worried for Fiona than I am for him. Carmine’s a mafia Don—he can handle himself.
“When my business is affected, you better believe it’s all about me.”
“Stop it,” I say through my teeth. “Liam doesn’t know anything for sure. He’s poking around, fishing for something. All we have to do is keep on going like nothing’s wrong.”
“And then what?”
“Then I move to Boston and become one of the most powerful lawyers in the fucking country.”
That’s the goal: work for the Crowleys, amass more connections, more strength.
That’s been my goal for a long time.
So why does it feel hollow? Where’s the excitement I thought I’d feel?
All I have now is worry.
He’s quiet. I can hear him breathing, getting himself under control. Finally, he says, “Moving to Boston, huh?”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Have you told Ford yet?”
“Not yet. I figured he won’t be happy.”
“I’m not happy either,” Carmine admits. “But Boston’s not so far from Philly.” Which is Carmine’s second home and the traditional power base of his Famiglia.
“I know it won’t be the same. I’ve liked having you and Ford local for the last few years.”
“I’ve liked it too. But hell, nothing lasts forever. And it’s not like Ford doesn’t have the means to travel. Fucker’s got a private jet.”
“I forget about the jet sometimes. He’s stingy as hell with that thing.”
“Tell me about it.” Carmine chuckles softly. “All right, look. Make sure the Crowleys stick to themselves. I’ll keep my head down and my mouth shut. But you need to tell Ford about the move soon.”
“I will. I’m going to.”
“And, bro? Be careful with the girl. Wrap it before you tap it, as the youth says.”
“I’m careful. She’s on birth control.”
“Yeah, all right. I knew you were sleeping with her, you bastard. Fucking hell. Brice says hi.”
“Hello, Brice.”
“Talk later.” He hangs up.
I sit alone in my office. Some of the euphoria of the night before ebbs and wears off. I want Fiona, want her bad—but Liam’s starting to be a real problem, and I don’t know what she’s going to do about this move.
Too many moving pieces. Too many balls in the air.
Too many chances to fuck this up.
Chapter 31
Gareth
I lean back on the bench across from the climbing wall. The gym’s quiet on a Friday afternoon. Fiona claps her chalky hands together before getting into position and beginning her line up toward the top, her harness on, the safety rope connected to the overhead anchor with an auto belay device.
God, she’s gorgeous. Her back is lean and toned, her muscular ass, legs, and arms working as she pulls her way up a difficult wall.
I can’t help but stare at her and feel a sense of pride as she gets higher and higher.
She’s really good—there’s no denying it—and really fucking hot. I smile to myself, glad I decided to take a midafternoon break to watch her get some time in at the gym.
She wanted me out there climbing too—but fuck that. This is her thing. I’ll sit right here, sip my coffee, and enjoy her.
My phone rings. I glance down, worried it’ll be Ford—I haven’t spoken to him yet and I’m dreading it—but instead, it’s Janine, the recruiter. “Hello,” I answer. “How are you?”
“Hey, Gareth,” Janine says, chipper as always. “Wanted to touch base about the new assistant. I have a list of candidates—”
Ah, fuck.
“Sorry, gotta interrupt you.” I grimace, rubbing my temple. “Something came up and it looks like I won’t need a new assistant after all. Well, not right now.”