Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 157848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 789(@200wpm)___ 631(@250wpm)___ 526(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 789(@200wpm)___ 631(@250wpm)___ 526(@300wpm)
Her face remains stoic; however, I don’t miss the twitch in her lips. “Absolutely. Anything else?”
“Yes, send me the most updated inquiries. We now have six unexpected openings.”
She turns, but not before I catch the full on smile.
Tony’s expression is steely. “You are an arrogant son of a bitch.”
I open my video file on my desktop and turn the monitor to him. “See anyone familiar?”
“What the hell is that?”
“From your reaction, I’m guessing it’s your new fuck buddy. This video was taken in Vegas over a month ago.”
“Vegas?” He squints, leaning in. “Is that Isaac Blake?”
“The one and only.”
“What is he doing?”
“Right at that instant, he’s falling back in love with my wife. Now the asshole’s on speed dial, and it looks like I’ll have to make a call today. You and he have something in common; you’ve both been seduced by the devil. She conned him as well, but she’s upped her game. Natasha uses the old-fashioned way of persuasion to get a man to heel. Guess you’re not as untouchable as you thought.”
“Tasha knows nothing of my business.”
“Keep telling yourself that. I rejected the woman publically, and she didn’t take it well. She marked you, probably fed you lies, too. Does she know you’re meeting with me today and the reason?”
The color drains from his face as understanding dawns. “That bitch was in my house. She must have gone through my things.”
“Don’t worry, I bet she’ll be vapor when you get home.”
I stand, going toward the door.
“I don’t know what the hell is happening, but we need to talk about this.”
“The time to talk was when you called me Saturday. Even this morning could have worked, but you came in here swinging your dick and your money around like you had the upper hand.”
“We have too much history to let this ruin our relationship. I fucked up.” He comes to me, offering his hand.
The bastard has the same condescending tone as a few minutes ago, triggering the fury inside. Before I can stop myself, my fist is connecting with his jaw and he’s stumbling into the wall. Frames crash around him loudly.
“That’s for insulting my wife, you fucking son of a bitch.”
The door flies open, and Pierce stands poised for anything. Poppy shuffles in with wide eyes. She takes one look at me, drops the crutches, and launches herself the four feet across the space. I catch her, hauling her close. She grips the back of my neck, scans over my face, and immediately the fury softens. The smell of her perfume and the fresh flowers in her hair settle the simmer inside.
“Jesus, man. I’m sorry.” Tony’s tone is full of regret.
“Get out of my office,” I grind out, not glancing his way.
Poppy swings her head to him, clutching tighter. “I don’t know you, but you better leave.”
“I’ll escort him out of the building,” Pierce speaks up, not masking his disgust.
“Tessa, Anthony Sanchez’s email may have been compromised. Hand him the transfer paperwork and make sure he’s removed from our client portal immediately. Customer service can handle him.”
“Yes, sir,” she trills, shutting the door when he’s through it.
“I’m sorry you witnessed that.”
“I asked Pierce to bring me early to surprise you. He insulted me?”
She heard my outrage. “He’s an ass that was misinformed.”
Poppy says nothing for a full minute, then her mouth splits into a breathtaking smile.
“Shit.” I lay my forehead to hers. “That smile just erased the hellacious last few hours.”
“Wait ‘til later when we get home from rehab and I show you how hot that was.”
That’s all it takes for my dick to turn to steel.
Chapter 32
Poppy
“You really are a hotshot, aren’t you?” Jesse makes notes on her tablet.
“Nope, I’m an overachiever. There’s a difference.”
“You’re becoming as big a pain in my ass as Annie.”
“I take that as a compliment.”
She goes to the far side of the room, aiming the tablet at me. “Alright, dancing queen, show us you can do this.”
“Gladly.” I make a point to do a toe, ball, heel across the room, leaning on one crutch on my left side.
“Stop, reverse, go with the heel first,” she instructs.
My heel barely protests as I make my way to Jesse, spin, and go back to my original spot. “Voila!”
“So damn cocky.” She clicks off the video. “You never wore a cast?”
“Not a hard cast; Rexwell is more progressive.”
“That’s been obvious from the beginning. I’ll recommend an adjustment on your knee.”
“Let’s move to water therapy next week,” I suggest confidently.
“Nope, you’re not there. We haven’t even worked on your motion yet.”
“Water is the best way to start.”
I’m ready to tell her about my research, but her stern glare stops me. After weeks of working together and reading her moods, it’s easy to tell she won’t reconsider.
Our first appointment with Dr. Lyons was nerve-wracking. He was apprehensive about Rexwell’s recommended therapy. It was up to me to prove myself. Dr. Lyons may have been the vocal resistance, but I knew it was Jesse that had to be convinced. In most cases, it’s the therapist that decides the course of therapy, but since my case is complicated, everyone is involved. She was tough but agreed to follow Rexwell’s recommendations. Usually, she listens to my suggestions, even if humoring me. But today she’s shut me down.