Page 47 of Reveal

“What am I doing, Sam?” I mutter, well aware I won’t get a second glance in this crowd for talking to myself. “What am I missing?”

My Wicked Ways cell alerts a text, the vibration in my hand informing me. I turn it over to see a text from Ella. Just my bimonthly question. Lol. Are you ready to sell yet?

Ella’s been trying to buy me out since the minute I made a name for myself in this business, and I’ve held off because I need the ongoing income to pay off my debt. For the first time ever, though, I want to text back in all shouty caps YES! YES, I’M READY TO SELL . . . but I feel my client list isn’t robust enough to get the offer I need to make it worth selling.

Just one more piece of the life I’m trying to build put on hold.

Just one more dream I have to wait to achieve.

Just one more heartache I have to endure.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Ryker

“Is this seat taken?”

“All yours,” I murmur just above the bluesy jazz the bar is piping through its speakers. The weeknight crowd is above average in size in this yuppified bar on the East Side.

“You’re lucky I was in town,” Carter Preston says, and I can see him hold up his fingers in my periphery to flag down the bartender. Once his drink is ordered and his first sip is taken, he leans back in his chair.

I make him wait. Not because I have anything more pertinent to do but more because the fucker makes my skin crawl.

“You going to talk, Lockhart, or am I going to sit here with my dick in my hand and pretend you love me?” He laughs like the self-righteous prick he is, and I’m already annoyed with him.

“A double this time,” I tell the bartender when he points to my glass asking if I want a refill. I look at Carter for the first time. “This shit has got to stop.”

“Us meeting in private like two lovers? I agree. It has to stop.” He smiles like a picture of innocence, and my hand tightens on my glass in reaction.

“Leave Vaughn alone.”

Carter takes his time sipping his bourbon, rolls it around on his tongue, and then sets his glass down before leaning back and staring at me. “Ah, so you are falling for the whore. How cute is that? The elusive Ryker Lockhart falling for the indiscriminate Vaughn Sanders.” He shakes his head after a beat and laughs. “I knew she couldn’t keep a secret. Loose lips in both places, apparently.”

I fist my hands and clench my teeth and refuse to take the bait he’s throwing out for me. “Just a personal PSA is all.” I shrug.

Carter part smiles, part laughs. “She has no idea you’re here talking to me, does she? What? Did she threaten to hold out if you did? Such a rebel, Lockhart. Risking the pussy to defend her honor. No worries—your secret is safe with me.”

“My secret? Nah, more like I’m trying to make sure both of our asses are protected. She does have shit on you, Carter. I get being a politician and all you’re used to people having dirt, but hers . . . ,” I say with a lift of my eyebrows that tells him to figure out how bad it is for himself.

“The log she has means shit,” he says dismissively. “The pictures will burn themselves out.”

The log? Pictures? I slide a look at him over the rim of the glass when I take a drink.

“That’s your business. Not mine,” I say with a shrug. “If what she has on you is meaningless, then why are you still pursuing her?”

The slight stall of his glass to his lips tells me he’s bluffing.

“She must be one magical paid fuck for you to risk losing your career over,” Carter murmurs, stare unrelenting, smirk taunting. “Screwing a woman—defending her—when you don’t know the truth about her isn’t exactly the smartest thing, now is it? You’d think a lawyer such as yourself would be a little more careful with his reputation.”

“And you’d think a senator would have stronger morals,” I counter with a lift of my brows, but I have no fucking clue what he’s talking about other than her owning Wicked Ways.

His laugh carries over the rest of the chatter in the bar, and a few people glance our way. “I see what you did here. Trendy place on the opposite side of town. A little crowded. A spot up front at the bar. Public but private. No one will think twice about the two executives in suits having a tense conversation.”

“Stop with the bullshit. The standing in front of her house in the middle of the night. The threats about risking Lucy’s adoption. The intimidation. That might work in your fights on the Senate floor, but it doesn’t play well here.”

“Stop or else what? You’re going to make sure my wife takes me to the cleaners? Oh, I’m scared.”

“This has nothing to do with your wife.”