Perfect Grump (Bad Chicago Bosses)

“He did ask about the woman and kid who’ve been staying here.” She sucks her lip, making this wretched sound of disappointment. “I guess you’re still slumming it with your secretary, huh?”

“Driver. And she’s a hell of a lot more to me than you ever were, Carmen. Reese doesn’t do psychotic shit like breaking and entering or stealing drugs,” I grind out, my vision going red.

She flays me open with that predatory smile—the one I used to think always gave me her best.

“You’re so dramatic. It’s not breaking and entering if you have a key, and...if you want to accuse me of stealing an illegal substance, you’d have to admit to possessing it first. Cocaine, Nick? This is a new low for you—”

“It’s not mine!” I growl, wondering why I bother. She won’t believe me. “Drop the crap you’re holding and get the hell out of here.”

“And leave you to a death by overdose? Whatever would the blogs say then?” She steps forward, quick like a cat, rubbing the half brick across the front of my shirt. “I knew you wouldn’t make this easy. You’d need a little persuasion, so...I’ve already saved pictures of your coke-covered room. If you want to come to your senses and talk—and agree to a rehab program—we can get through this. I’d also love to have a certain memory card I’ve been looking oh-so-hard for with our dirty little blast from the past. Just for safe keeping. Show me where it is, and I’ll delete all those nasty drug photos right here with you watching.”

It takes everything in me not to snap her neck, especially as she drags an overpainted red nail across my cheek. I fling her back before I lose control.

“You conniving bitch—stay away!” I’m roaring, the powder shaking off my shirt as my chest heaves.

She frowns with her lips, but her eyes are still sparkling with evil delight.

“Hmm—so you really want to do this the hard way?” She whispers, forcing a frown. “Oh, Nick...you poor, sick man.”

My hands curl into fists.

I turn away from her, because I’m too angry to look at her, too confused to know what the fuck I should do in this situation. Even my Navy training doesn’t cover being set up by a psycho ex with access to stolen drugs my own dumbass took home in a mammoth brain fart.

“All that crying on the phone last night about how you had to hire an investigator to find the video, so I wouldn’t release it and ruin your career...” I start slowly, turning around and staring her down. “You knew I’d never do that. I was offended you assumed I might, but you never thought I would. You’re not worried about that. You want that fucking video so you can blackmail me with Birdshit and his gossip rag. He won’t run the story without proof, and you don’t have it without a statement from me or video evidence.” I shrug. “But Osprey probably wouldn’t run it with just a statement, anyway. He’s a businessman and a fucked up kind of journalist. He gets clicks on hard proof—however terrible—not hearsay.”

She folds her arms, unmoving.

“All you had to do was give me the stupid memory card...I never would’ve had to resort to a PI. I never expected him to find you buying drugs. I didn’t know your little problem with drinking turned into this. But you know what, I’m not even mad. Like it or not, I’ve always been the only woman who could accept you with all your bad habits, Nicholas. Your little Polly Puritan will flee as soon as she knows who you are. The way you’re handling this is ridiculous.” She circles around so we’re face-to-face again.

I want to hoist her up and throw her into the wall, but restrain myself. Barely.

“Which memory card is it, Nick?” She uncurls her other hand to reveal three old SD cards she must’ve pulled from my drawer. “I know how important your photos are. You always kept them close. I know you and your precious memories, just like I knew exactly where to find them. I bet the nervous little mouse you’re playing house with can’t say the same.”

I clench and unclench my fingers.

“First, never mention her again. Second, you need to get the hell out of here. Now. I’m about to lose my shit, and you don’t want to be here when it happens,” I warn.

She pouts like a demon.

“Or what? You’ll throw your life away with the help? For all I know, you’re snorting this crap with her.” She pauses, dragging her eyes up my frame. “Ohhh, are you going to snap like a wild animal? Will you hurt me? And why does it bother you that I still read you like a book, inside and out? Don’t take it out on me because you’re too much of a chickenshit coward to admit you’re still in love with me.”