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“That bastard,” I say. “I had a fight with Reese last night just as I did with Dan. I tried to leave and Reese wasn’t done with the fight.”
“Are you fucking him?”
Damn it, she isn’t giving up. “I plead the Fifth.”
“Cat,” she breathes out. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It didn’t happen until last night.”
“The publisher, the person above your editors, wants to see me Monday, but I can already hear her now.” She lowers her voice. “This situation creates a wave of tabloid-like gossip that doesn’t do justice to true crime.” She returns to her normal voice. “I hope that man is worth your career. I’ll let you know what happens.”
She heads to the door, and I let her go. I don’t move, but I listen as the door opens and closes. I’d already turned down the book deal. I don’t know why I feel so bad right now.
Chapter seventeen
Cat
Ispend the short time I’m in the shower fretting over Liz’s claim that I’ve ruined my career. By the time I’m out and drying off, I’m starting to get over it. Just as I’ve dressed in a pair of black jeans, a thin, long-sleeved teal sweater and boots, my phone buzzes with a text on the bathroom sink. I grab it and sit down on the vanity chair to find a message from Reese: Bring clothes. Stay the weekend. In the name of justice and all that is good and right about our court system.
“Justice and all that is good and right about our court system,” I laughingly murmur, and after a moment of considering my reply, I text back: What if we hate each other today? Then the whole weekend thing could get awkward.
His reply is quick and all man: We’ll fuck until we get over it. Doesn’t sound awkward to me.
He’s right, I think. We will.
That’s not awkward.
Which means that maybe it’s okay if we hate each other and make that happen. Or even better, just don’t hate each other at all and do it anyway. I think I’ll pack a bag and just consider the options. I don’t have to stay. I do so quickly, feeling good about my decisions as I apply my makeup, but as I dry my hair, Liz’s words quite unfortunately replay in my mind. Is he worth ruining your career? Obviously, I’m not as over her saying that after all. No, I’m not, but by the time I’ve finished with my flat iron, I know why. Liz is doing exactly what my father did to me every time he and I disagreed. And I did exactly what I did with my father: I doubted myself.
I swore I was done with that kind of thinking, yet I get questioned about Reese, and I’ve reverted back to old habits and I’m second-guessing myself. I walk to my closet in the back of my bathroom, and in between beating myself up and replaying Liz’s words, I pack my rolling computer bag with some personal items and a change of clothes, then stuff my computer inside. Now I can stay or go, and it won’t look like I planned the opposite of either. I grab my purse, and in about two minutes, I’m inside the elevator and really fuming at myself, not Liz. I let her do that to me. That’s on me.
I pull my phone from my purse, planning to call her once I’m street level. It beeps with a text from Reese. I sent a car for you. He’s there when you’re ready.
I frown and text him back: How do you know where I live?
He replies with: Arrogant, sexy assholes know all.
He asked Lauren, who is going to get her pregnant booty whipped, and not by her husband. I glance at the text message and type: I said arrogant, good-looking asshole.
He replies: I like my version better.
I laugh. Again. That matters. I don’t usually laugh much. And I kind of like it. And I like this man. But stay the weekend? Am I really going to stay with him? God. I packed a bag. I think I am. I exit the elevator, and sure enough, there is a car waiting for me. Once I’m settled into the back seat, I dial Liz, who doesn’t answer. I leave a message. “Call me.”
I’m bothered by her not taking my call. Really bothered by it, and by the time I’m inside Reese’s apartment building and clearing my entry with the security desk, she still hasn’t called back. I dial her again on my way to the elevator with the same results. I try once more as I exit the elevator to Reese’s floor and decide to just set aside my Liz issues. It’s time to go help find real justice for an innocent woman and child. And this trial, and Dan, haven’t done that.
I’m just arriving at the door when it opens, and he appears, and boy, does he make an impression. In ripped jeans and a simple black T-shirt that is not simple on him, he looks like sex, sin, and just what I need in my life, aside from a real purpose. Right now, that purpose is to help him with this case.
“Hey,” he says as I stop in front of him.
“Hey,” I reply, deciding he always smells wonderfully masculine. “Is your team here?”
“Yes,” he says, but he doesn’t back up to let me inside. His hand slides under my hair at my neck and he tilts my face to his. “But before we join them…” He kisses me, this slow, seductive, drugging kiss that has me softening against him before he pulls back and looks at me. “What the hell are you doing to me, woman?”
“Hopefully encouraging you to do that again.”
“What happened with your agent?” he asks, his lips still a breath from mine.
“You really know how to ruin the mood,” I say, pushing against his chest with hardly any movement on his behalf. He’s still holding me. His mouth is still close to my mouth. “That’s not important.”
