Total pages in book: 224
Estimated words: 215705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1079(@200wpm)___ 863(@250wpm)___ 719(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 215705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1079(@200wpm)___ 863(@250wpm)___ 719(@300wpm)
“Let me grab that file I wanted to review with you really quick,” she replies. “Then I can handle the problem while you take your call.” She hurries away.
I have no idea what the hell she’s talking about, but since this is Carrie, I have no doubt, she’ll be making it loud and clear in the near future. I head back into my office and by the time I’m behind my desk, Connie appears in my doorway. “I’ll take care of the chopper and hotel rooms for you both. Do you want me to coordinate a time with Grayson?”
“Let him know the situation. I’ll call him the minute I’m out of my meeting. Do what you have to and then go home. There’s no reason for you to hang around.”
She doesn’t move. “Anything I need to know?”
“Be prepared for press hell on Monday,” I say. “We’re holding a press conference on the Brooks’ case Monday. The deal closed.”
“For a good number?”
“Yes.”
“I’d say congratulations, but the press is your punishment,” she says. “They’ll demonize you in some way, I’m sure. It never ends.”
“Who’ll demonize who?” Carrie asks, joining us again.
“The press comes at Reid no matter what good he does,” Connie explains. “I hate them. I really do hate them.”
“Hate them at home,” I order. “Get out of here, but be in early Monday.”
“Got it, boss.” She heads out of the office and Carrie crosses to set the folder in front of me. “The items you needed are inside.”
Her cellphone rings and she snakes it from her pocket while I open the folder to find four Advil and two Sudafed taped to a piece of paper; her extreme discretion appreciated. She’d been right. I don’t trust easily. I don’t ask for trust either. I’ve done both with Carrie.
“Elijah,” Carrie says, drawing me back to the moment and indicating her phone. “He’s calling me. Reid, I think I should take it and feel out his position. To protect you and us. He might talk to me.”
He will talk to her. He’ll run his mouth and that’s not an option. I’m simply not ready for the hate he could earn me with Carrie. “Talking to him offers him hope that he can turn you,” I say, downing the pills with water before adding, “That empowers him in ways we don’t need him empowered.”
Her phone stops ringing and she purses her lips. “Have more faith in me than you obviously do,” she says. “It also might tell us where his head is now.”
“You know I believe in you,” I say. “You know I do. I know you know that at this point. I’ve shown you that by way of my actions, but you don’t know Elijah like I do. Don’t talk to him.”
“I know this is personal for him and that is always where things get dirty.” She leans on the desk. “If you get hurt, I get hurt. If that doesn’t make you trust me, I don’t know what will.”
“I’m not going to let that happen, Carrie. It’s my turn here. I need you to trust me.”
“I do trust you, Reid, or I’d be gone already, but I need us to do this together.”
“We are. Deep breath, baby. I got this, and I got you.”
“I don’t want you to have me or this. We do this together.”
Connie buzzes in. “Your call is live.”
“I’ll grab it,” I say, and when I’m certain she’s hung up, I refocus on Carrie. “Let’s win over Grayson and we’ll deal with Elijah when we come back.”
“This weekend,” she insists. “We deal with Elijah this weekend. Promise me.”
“I promise we’ll talk about Elijah.”
“This weekend,” she repeats.
“This weekend,” I agree.
“Promise.”
“Promise,” I concede.
“And you never break a promise,” she reminds me, giving me no time to reply. Her, and her perfect backside track across my office and exit, shutting me inside alone.
I reach for the phone, but not without a vow to shut Elijah up no matter what it takes. I’m not losing the only woman I’ve ever wanted to call mine over that asshole.
The call lasts every bit of the hour I’d predicted, and the minute I hang up, I dial Grayson Bennett. With the six o’clock hour upon us, we coordinate a nine o’clock dinner at his beachfront home, and I grab my briefcase and head for the door. I find Connie and Sallie already gone, and make my way to Carrie’s office, stepping inside the doorway, to discover her fretting over something on her MacBook screen. I lean on the frame. “Problem?”
Her gaze jerks to mine, the connection between us punching me in the chest. She feels it too, her lips parting, her breath hitching a moment before she recovers. I can almost see her mentally set her reaction to me aside, before she says, “Yes. I have a problem. The numbers on a European project we’re involved with aren’t adding up. I need to go over them with you. Reid, I think it’s a problem.”