“Are you implying Jax isn’t educated?” I ask, my anger rising.
“I’d be surprised if she didn’t leave school at sixteen. It was an insult for you to bring her to my table for lunch, and I don’t even want toaskwhere you were after the meal. She’s pretty, I’ll admit, so have your fun and then get rid of her and focus on what matters.”
I lean back in my chair, staring at the ceiling. This scene has played out so many times in my life, and every time it happens, I convince myself next time will be different.
I’ve been here before. My mother has disliked most of my girlfriends in the past, and all of them have eventually grown sick of her attitude.
But Jax didn’t care. She stood up to her right from the start.
“I don’t want to go on this date, Mom,” I attempt.
“It’s at eight o’clock. I had Martin bookPopolare. I know you like the food there, and it’s not far from where Sarah works. You’ll like her. Let me know how it goes.”
The line goes dead.
I hold the cell phone in my hand, resisting the urge to hurl the thing across the room. Rising, I walk to the door, opening it and half hoping that Jax didn’t take me for my word and that she’s sitting at her desk.
But her desk is empty. Tidy and empty, her chair neatly tucked beneath it. She’s even locked the files away in a drawer for tomorrow.
I miss her face.
The thought is so ludicrous that I close the office door again and lose the battle with myself, walking to the concealed liquor cabinet and pouring myself a whiskey.
To hell with what my team might think of me, I need a pick-me-up after this shit show of a day. And it sounds as if tonight isn’t going to be much better.
I scroll through my phone, anger rushing through me like a freight train as I find Pippa’s number. I should call her and tell her to get rid of Jax once and for all. This is becoming too convoluted, and I don’t need any more stress in my life.
Who knows, maybe Sarah will be perfect for me. I stare at the amber liquid in my glass, my shoulders tensing. And if Sarah reallywereperfect for me, how would I ever explain who Jax was? What woman who hoped to date me wouldn’t be bothered that I paid for sex?
Jax.A little voice in my head pipes up.Jax wouldn’t give a shit.
I throw my phone onto the couch, downing the whiskey in one scorching swallow, wincing as it burns down my throat.
Chapter 27
Jax
When I get home, still seething from the exchange with Gray, I find the house empty. Panic moves through me in a relentless wave as I check upstairs for my brothers, wondering where they could be.
Are they doing something stupid? Should I call them?
But I’m so exhausted I can barely arrange my thoughts enough to form a plan to find them.
I rub at my eyes, noting the disgusting state of the kitchen. It looks as if Seb and Ben were up late playing games again, pizza boxes and beer cans strewn everywhere.
I’m so sick of this fucking dump.
I go upstairs, kick off my shoes, and collapse into bed with a long, drawn-out groan. I can’t remember the last time I took a nap, but my body is telling me I have no choice.
By the time I wake up, four hours have passed.
I frown, wondering what time it is and what woke me, until I smell something burning.
Sitting bolt upright in bed, I leap off the mattress and run to the bedroom door, hurtling down the stairs only to come to a stop in the living room at the sight of Scott in the kitchen.
He’s wearing an apron I haven’t seen since our mom was alive.
“What the hell are you doing?” I ask, walking into the kitchen. The surfaces are spotless, and all the mess that was here when I got home has been cleared away.
