Page 15

“You don’t remember how heartbroken you were? Because I certainly do. You locked yourself away in your room for five days and cried your broken heart out.”

“It was more like a day, two tops, and I didn’t fucking cry. Besides, this is completely different. This is adult shit … it’s messy and complicated. I also don’t have the luxury of locking myself in my room until it goes away.”

“You’re the boss of your own company; you could absolutely lock yourself away for a few days and sob your little heart out if you wanted to.”

“I didn’t fucking cry back then, cock, and I’m not going to now.”

“Well, there’s only one thing we can do then,” he says, raising his hand and signalling for the waitress to return.

“And what’s that, Einstein?”

“We get shitfaced and come up with a genius plan to win your little flower back.”

Chapter 5

Bronson

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Spencer Prescott says, appearing beside my table. I push back my chair, stand and offer him my hand. “I had to drop Delilah and the kids off before coming here.”

“You should’ve brought them along.”

“Considering you’re wanting to meet this early, instead of calling or emailing me your requirements, I thought it might be best if I came on my own.”

Spencer’s not only an old friend of mine, but he’s also one of the best IT guys in the business. I use his services often. “This one is more on the personal side,” I admit.

“A woman?”

“Partly.” Mostly.

“Okay,” he says, taking a seat opposite me. “What do you need from me?”

“Two things,” I reply, sliding my hand into the inside pocket of my suit jacket and pulling out the piece of paper I stashed there. “I need everything you can find on Whitmore Industries. I also have an address for a woman named Rose. Well, the apartment building she lives in. Not her actual address. I need you to find out exactly where she lives. She works for this company. She’s the CEO’s PA. Her boss is a handsy motherfucker, so I want all the dirt you can find on him.”

“Consider it done. I’ll get a start on it today.”

“Thanks. So how’s family life? I can’t believe you’ve got two kids now, and another on the way.”

He sits back in his chair and tugs down the vest of his three-piece suit. “I’m living my best life,” he admits, and I can tell he means that.

“Good for you,” I say. I’ve been so focused on my business that settling down never really crossed my mind, but as I sit here, I find myself wanting what he has one day.

“Is there anything else I can do for you?”

I hesitate. I know his and Delilah’s story started out with a fake Facebook post. I’d love to know when he realised there was more to their relationship. When he knew he wanted her for real. What he did to win her over and, more importantly, how the hell he managed to lock that woman down.

But asking another man about feelings and shit seems like a line I’m not ready to cross. “Yeah. I’m hungry. We should order some breakfast.”

The last person I want to see when I walk into my office later that morning is Janet. I thought I’d gotten lucky when I didn’t see her at her desk, but my relief is short-lived.

She’s already in my space, standing beside my desk and waiting for me. Her arms are folded across her chest, and the bitchy look on her face tells me I’m not going to like what she has to say.

I’m tired because I hardly slept last night, but I decide to be the bigger person and say, “Good morning.”

“Is that all you have to say?” she snaps, tapping her foot.

I have a feeling she’s fishing for an apology, but I lift one shoulder, playing dumb. Pigs might fly the day she affords me the same courtesy. “Why are you in my office?”

“I was talking to my husband last night, and he agrees you were completely out of line yesterday. I feel like you should apologise for how you spoke to me.”