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Brian continues staring for a few more seconds, before asking yet another question. "Does she know about Jessica?"
"She does." I open the first in the line of emails, scanning the expected questions before typing out a curt response. "The issue with Jessica is irrelevant to her." Insomuch that she doesn't believe the accusations. It is, however, relevant considering it provided Valerie the leverage she needed.
Leverage I'm feeling rather grateful for at the moment. Without Jessica I wouldn't have Val. And if I didn't have Val, my new wife would have no one to protect her.
The thought of Valerie facing all this on her own sours my gut, and has me scanning my emails for a specific sender. "Was Elaine Cervantes one of the phone calls that came in?"
My assistant snorts. "She's probably the only person in Sweet Side who has not called this morning." He finally straightens from my desk. "Would you like for me to make a call to her?"
I shake my head. "No. But if she calls, forward it to me immediately, regardless of whether I'm in a meeting or not."
Brian’s chin tucks, his gaze moving over my face. "Did you marry Elaine Cervantes?"
"No. I did not marry Elaine Cervantes." I go back to my emails. "My understanding is she is attached anyway."
My assistant opens his mouth, no doubt to ask yet another invasive question, but he's cut off by a man striding directly into my office.
We both turn to look at him at the same time, but I don’t greet this unexpected visitor. I wait to see what he has to say in way of explanation.
It should be an interesting conversation.
"Fynn." Rogers holds both hands out, smiling wide. "How have you been, mate?"
I keep my expression neutral as his southern drawl brutalizes his attempt at replicating my own accent. "I am well." I stand, tucking one hand into the pocket of my trousers. "To what do I owe this visit?"
Rogers keeps grinning, oblivious to the coolness in my tone. He's oblivious to most things. But he is very, very wealthy, so I usually let it slide. We’ll see if that continues.
"I heard congratulations are in order." He comes straight at me like we’re old friends, grabbing me in a backslapping hug. "I heard you got married." His tone is decidedly different than it was the last time we spoke—when he told me he was backing out of a deal set to make us both a load of money.
"You heard correctly. I was lucky enough to make a beautiful woman my wife yesterday." I don't slow down, because I know what question is coming next and I want to head it off. "My mother is hard at work planning an event that will announce our coupling.”
"Good to hear it. Hopefully I get an invite." He drops down into the chair across from me, ignoring my assistant. "I want to talk about that deal we've got going."
I stare at him silently for a few seconds, waiting until he shifts in his seat before answering. "I wasn't aware we had a deal. Last time we spoke, you indicated you were no longer interested in being a part of it."
He waves one hand at me. "That was just a misunderstanding. My wife had heard some untrue things and got the wrong idea.” He grins, shooting me a wink. “But I set her straight."
I'm sure he did, and it makes me wonder if his wife could be making an escape of her own soon. "And that means?"
"It means I'm in again." He says it like it's a simple change. One I should readily accept.
But I find I'm not as eager and trusting of him as I was a few weeks ago. "I'm sure we could make that happen."
Rogers reaches out to shake my hand, like that's all it will take.
"Provided, you are willing to sign a nonrefundable contract."
His hand stays between us, smile barely faltering. A few heartbeats pass before he gives me a single nod. "Deal."
I grip his offered hand, shaking it tight, a sense of pride blooming in my chest.
Not at myself. I'm not the one who did this.
The pride is for my wife. She's the one who made this happen.
And I can't wait to show her my appreciation.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
