“I just wanted to know what time to arrive,” I finally said. “So I know how long I have to get ready. Like I told you before, what I’m wearing takes a while to put on.”
I could hear the audible breath escaping his lungs slowly. “I’ll send a car for you.”
“Spoiling me, huh,” I drawled, a smile crawling across my face.
He snorted softly. “What else did you find?”
“What?”
“On my rap sheet. I’m guessing that’s what you looked up to get my number. Anything else interesting on there that I should know?”
“You don’thavea rap sheet.”
“So you looked through the entire file. Interesting.”
Busted.
“Even got your social, too.”
Something in the background flooded wherever he was with noise, the sounds of the hospital coming alive again along with some woman’s voice that sounded vaguely familiar. There was a brief conversation that was muffled as the phone was pulled away from Silas’s mouth, none of which I could make out.
When the background quieted again, he said, “Six on Wednesday. I’ll have someone come pick you up.”
Butterflies kicked up in my stomach again.
Sending a driver?
Now that was over the top and not at all giving me a complex.
“You’re not even concerned I have access to your social?”
“Be sure to let me know what kind of boat you decide to buy with my credit.” And then the call was dropped.
I pulled the phone from my ear, shaking my head.
A boat.
Who said that kind of shit to someone with access to ruining their financial future?
It was his personality. That had to be what I was growing attached to. Nothing else was making me grin at my phone likea fucking idiot ready to spam text him with pictures of boats I’d Googled in order to see what kind of reaction I’d get out of him.
Probably more sarcasm. Definitely critiques on my stylistic choices of how I’d be spending this fake amount of money I was about to take out with a loan under his name.
Though, who was he to judge with his house looking like it was inspired by a Martha Stewart magazine?
That reminded me, I really needed to ask him what was up with the decor in his house.
Remnants from a past partner?
There was no way he picked out any of that by himself.
The door flew open, wind rushing in from the harsh motion of it being shoved inward so hard. “Bishop.”
I jumped in my chair, clinging onto on of the armrests while my phone was flipped out of my hand and clattered to the desk. The sound had me wincing and slowly moving my gaze up to where TJ stood, completely unsurprised to see me, in the doorway.
Shit.
“Uh... I can explain.”
