Then my phone buzzes again, probably with Lena’s reply.
There’s nothing I can think to say. There’s truly nowhere in this city safe from prying eyes.
I hate that a devious little devil on my shoulder sees opportunity. If I were every bit the bastard she thinks I am, I could use it to draw her in, to shoot my shot one more time.
This is the push she needs to really consider my offer when half of Seattle already thinks we’re together.
But I can’t.
I fucking won’t.
Waving a fat paycheck in her face while she was hurting was bad enough. A movie-villain, dick move.
Doing it after I’ve made her infamous?
No.
Luis has been with me long enough to read my face. He drums his fingers against his knee, thinking.
“You’re not going to ask her again, are you?” he finally says.
“I’m not a monster.”
“So, what will you do, boss? There’s more to worry about now than your folks pushing Nancy on you.”
Sighing, I pull out my phone. She’s sent the worst of the pictures directly to me with a series of emoji and question marks.
“I’m going to meet her. ASAP, on neutral ground, like a local park,” I snarl. My fingers punch the screen as I type a message. “Somehow, we’ll dig our way out of this. I just need a chance to make it right.”
Somehow.
Luis’s heavy sigh tells me I might have an easier time moving Mount Rainier.
VII
The Bark Side
(Lena)
I almost don’t go.
Right up until the minute I arrive, I’m thinking I’ll turn back.
And I look ridiculous, walking into another ambush. It’s clear they could be anywhere—clout chasers on social media, armed with their phones. Waiting to spot Brady and anyone he’s with to photograph their every move.
I’ve gone out of my way to look inconspicuous, but it’s turned me into a slob.
Instead of my usual jeans-and-tee off-work combo, I’ve gone for an oversize hoodie and sweatpants.
Hair in a bun, hood pulled down over my face.
The biggest pair of shades I own. I think I only wore them once to a bachelorette party where we dressed up like a group of old ladies going out for bingo night.
Honestly, I look like someonetryingto hide.
Ugh.
Why bother? At some point you have to ask yourself.
