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I’ve never discussed Zoe with him, but I don’t doubt he knows all the details of our history and even my obsession with that woman.
Yeah, because what else can I call my feelings toward her? Even after she left me with nothing more than a note calling what happened between us a mistake two years ago, today was proof that nothing has changed. I keep craving her with every fiber of my being.
“Ex-husband. He assaulted her,” I say.
“What happened?” His laid-back tone changes to a tenser one, and I know why. Abused women are his Achilles’ heel. Having witnessed his adoptive father do the same to his mother many times in his childhood, Beau doesn’t tolerate this type of cowardice.
“She didn’t tell me the details, but her face is bruised.”
“Son of a bitch. What do you need?”
“Whatever you can find out. I’ve already done some research by normal methods. I want to dig deeper, though.”
“Give me two hours, and I’ll even tell you when his first baby tooth fell out.”
I look at the report in front of me.
I don’t know how he managed it, but a little over two hours after I called him, my secretary came in saying there was a carrier with a folder that could only be delivered to me. I had no doubt it came from Beau.
However, before I can open it, my phone lights up with a message.
Zoe.
Yes, her number is still among my contacts. And apparently, she kept mine as well, considering none of our contract clauses mention personal contact.
Zoe: I would like to ask you a question.
What power does this woman have over me that just reading a simple fucking message is enough to make my blood boil?
I press the call button. “And why should I answer it?”
“Forget it, Christos.”
Shit! That would be my cue to end the call and keep everything between us on a professional level, but how can I do that when I can still taste her tongue in my mouth?
“What do you want to know?”
“Was the money you left in the envelope for me in Barcelona a dismissal? A coded message for me to leave your apartment?”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“I thought it might be some kind of payment for?—”
“Don’t finish that sentence, Zoe. Don’t offend us both like that.”
“All right. It was just that. Thanks.”
“There’s no way you’re going to hang up like that. We’re not done yet.”
“What do you want?”
You, naked, under me. Your silky thighs on my shoulders as I eat your pussy. Hearing you scream, asking me to go deeper into your tight body.
“Have dinner with me.”
“The contract doesn’t prohibit that?”
“Fuck the contract, Zoe. It was you who came to me, and now I won’t stop. I’m coming to Boston.”
