Total pages in book: 217
Estimated words: 207224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1036(@200wpm)___ 829(@250wpm)___ 691(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 207224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1036(@200wpm)___ 829(@250wpm)___ 691(@300wpm)
“Put your phone on silent,” she orders, stepping inside the cart. “In fact, why don’t you just wait in the car for me?”
I laugh and hurry in with her and, of course, she doesn’t fight me. I want to think this arming herself business is all unnecessary. I can’t. I’ve been on the receiving end of Amber’s resentment. That woman has no scruples or boundaries. “What was the code?” I ask.
“The date of my mom’s memorial.”
I swing a stunned expression her way. “What?”
“Fucked up, eh?” She stares forward, a million flecks of hate in her eyes. Just when I thought her dad could not be more of an asshole.
The doors close and we both look up at the dial above the door, watching as it ticks up through the floors at an epically slow rate. And when it dings to announce our arrival to the penthouse, we both inhale and step to the side. I stare into Beau’s dark eyes as the doors slide open, waiting, tense and shaky. It’s quiet, only the drone of electrical appliances breaking the silence. The soft glow of the apartment is a stark contrast to the artificial, blinding lights of the elevator.
Beau swallows and edges to the front and pulls her phone out, getting the camera screen up and turning the image as if she’s about to take a selfie. Then she angles it out, checking the space. She looks like she knows exactly what she’s doing. I hate that she does. I hate that she used to be a cop. But I also appreciate it.
“Nothing,” she finally says, moving out but keeping her gun poised. I follow on a held breath, taking in the uber-modern penthouse as Beau scopes the place.
“Anything?” I whisper, putting my vibrating phone into my back pocket.
She opens a door and looks inside, where a bank of screens displays live footage of the parking garage and the stairwell. “Was your dad security conscious?” I ask.
“I hardly knew my father,” she replies, leaving the door open and wandering deeper into the open space. A kitchen spans the back, and a staircase sweeps up to a mezzanine floor where I can see the top of a headboard.
And then I hear it. A voice.
“I’m here,” it says.
I look at Beau, just as she aims her gun to the stairs, and she starts moving toward them, quietly but efficiently. I inhale when I see a figure at the top, and Beau pauses from taking the first step, her foot hovering in mid-air. “Beau?” Amber sounds shocked, coming out of the dusk and into the light. “And Rose?” She comes down two steps and looks between us. “What are you doing here?”
“What are you doing here?” Beau retorts, her gun unmoving, aimed.
“How did you find me?” Amber comes down the stairs, her face a map of confusion. “I thought you were someone else.”
“Who?” Beau backs up, maintaining her distance, and I stick to her side like glue.
Amber reaches the bottom and glances around, nervous and twitchy. She looks bedraggled and tired, the usual power suit replaced with a tracksuit and some Uggs. Her hair is piled high. No makeup. “I don’t know,” she says. “I don’t know who it is.”
I don’t like this at all. She looks fucking shifty, edgy. Who was she expecting?
“How did you know I was here?” she asks Beau, going to the window and looking down onto Miami.
“My dad offered to buy me this place.”
She laughs, but it’s not in humor. “He bought me this place.” Amber faces us, noticing for the first time the vest I’m wearing. She tilts her head, moving closer, her eyes on my stomach. “Are you . . .”
I keep my mouth firmly shut, which is probably the worst thing I could do.
“You’re pregnant?” Amber looks plain disgusted. It doesn’t bode well.
“We’re not here about me.”
“Oh, well, it’s all very cozy between you two, isn’t it? My stepdaughter and my ex’s new wife.”
“Stepdaughter?” Beau splutters.
“Ex?” I ask. She was never Danny’s in the first place to become an ex.
“Yes, ex.” Amber’s edginess is suddenly gone for dust, and supremacy is back. Oh no. She is underestimating Beau. Silly woman. She casts a looks Beau’s way. “Didn’t you know Tom had proposed? Obviously I accepted. It’s why he wanted to meet you for dinner, Beau. To tell you.”
“I thought you’d split up.”
“Well, we had, no thanks to you.” Amber’s eyes turn onto me. “Thank you for pouring poison into Tom’s ear.”
“Poison?” I blurt. “You mean the truth, don’t you?”
Her hand lands on her chest. “I loved Tom dearly. Is that why you’re here, Beau? To stake a claim on everything that’s now . . . well, mine?”
Fucking hell, she’s a beast of a woman. “I think we should be leaving,” I declare, tugging on Beau’s arm. “Beau, come on.”