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I take another sip of my wine before continuing, "I'm not going to mope over him. I don't know what I'm going to do, but definitely not that."
I've never been the girl who wallows in self-pity. Even after my mom died and my dad turned to alcohol, I didn't let myself wallow. I couldn't, and I'm not going to do it now either. I'm stronger than that, and I've worked too hard to just give up on my dreams. Maybe my future looks a little different now that I'm homeless and jobless, but I still have dreams. I just need to regroup and figure out how to reach them on my own.
"I have an interview with the Triton Agency at the end of the month," I tell Tahani.
"In Los Angeles?"
"Yeah."
So far, they're the only literary agency that's shown any interest in me. They're not at the top of my list since they represent mostly fantasy, and I'm more of a romance kind of girl, but they're a foot in the door since Lizette kicked me to the curb. I'm not going to let her and Damien win. Screw both of them.
"I'm proud of you," Tahani says, dragging my attention back to my phone. "You're going to nail that interview, and Lizette and Damien can kiss your ass." She pauses. "You really do deserve better than him anyway, Mila. You were way too good for him. And sooner or later, you're going to find an amazing guy who will love you like you deserve."
As far as I'm concerned, I'm done with men for the foreseeable future. Between finding an apartment and a job, I have enough to keep me occupied for a little while anyway. And if cheating and lying is what I have to look forward to by dating, I'm staying single forever, thank you very much.
"Don't give up on finding love," Tahani responds when I tell her that. Naturally. She's head over heels for Trent. She wants everyone to be as happy as she has been since he swept her off her feet. "Maybe you'll find someone while you're in Santa Cruz. You don't have to fall in love, but definitely have a wild fling before you rush off to take LA by storm."
I tip my head back and laugh at the thought. I've never had a fling in my life.
"Think about it. Revenge sex with a hot stranger," she says with a dreamy sigh.
"The only one you're having revenge sex with is me, baby," Trent grumbles in the background, causing Tahani to laugh. He says something else, his voice muffled, and then his deep voice rumbles down the line. "She's gonna have to call you back, Mila."
Tahani moans, making it clear she said that just to piss him off. He's possessive, and she loves every minute of it. They can barely keep their hands off of one another.
"Have fun," I say with a smile.
When the line disconnects, I set my phone on the island and stand there for a moment, twisting my wine glass back and forth in my hands. Tahani may have been joking about revenge sex to rile up Trent, but maybe that's exactly what I need to put Damien in the past. No-strings-attached, dirty-hot sex. It's not like my V-Card is doing me any favors anyway.
Too bad Tahani's dad isn't here. That's one man I'd absolutely give it up for, no questions asked.
"Yeah, right," I mumble, shaking my head. "Like that'll ever happen." The man doesn't even like me, let alone want to sleep with me.
But a girl can dream, right?
I certainly do. For four freaking years, I've dreamed all sorts of wicked, naughty things about that man. They'll never be anything more than that, but damn. Just damn.
Chapter Two
Roman
"Roman, you need to calm the fuck down." Finn Bethel’s deep voice crackles through the speakers, instantly pissing me off.
I've had enough of people telling me to calm down, and they've been spouting that same bullshit for the last thirty-six hours...ever since my case went up in smoke, thanks to my partner, Brady Kaplan.
A muscle in my cheek jumps at the reminder.
"I am calm," I growl at my boss, one fist clenched tightly on the steering wheel of my truck, the other drumming against my thigh.
"Bullshit," Finn mutters as I pull to a stop at the light two blocks from my condo in Santa Cruz. "I told you that we're handling Brady. You need to stay the fuck out of it before you get your sorry ass suspended beyond the shooting investigation."
"We just lost half a million dollars in guns, Finn."
"I know," Finn sighs heavily. "Not a fucking thing we can do about it right now, though."
He's not wrong. The motherfucker we were targeting, Jose Guerrero, runs the United States arm of a drug cartel out of Sinaloa. They've been virtually unstoppable with him running things here and Pedro Francisco at the helm in Mexico. Had Brady kept his shit together, we could have figured out why they're suddenly anxious to get their hands on such a massive number of weapons. We've been hearing rumors for months that Guerrero is up to something big. We just don't know what.
Instead, Brady got antsy, blew his cover, and fucked our case, putting half a million dollars of guns into the hands of one of the most dangerous cartels in North America. Even worse, he nearly got his wife and son killed. I had to kill a fucking cartel member to save them.
