I’m frustrated by the possible delay in my plans. “Will he be in this morning? Is his schedule open?”
Erica’s eyes slide over my suit, down my arm, and straight to my left hand, third finger. “He will. His schedule is clear, but I’ll enter your name for…”
“Nine.”
“Oh, I have a bit of your mail here.” She bends forward slowly, extending her derriere in my direction. When she straightens, she’s holding the latest issue of the bar association journal. “They have a very interesting article just inside…” Her finger holds the flap, and I take it.
“Thanks.” As I head down the hall leading to my office, I look inside the magazine cover. A card drops out, and I have to stop and retrieve it.
It’s one of Erica’s business cards. Flipping it over, I see on the back in a hasty script is written, Call me anytime.
My eyes narrow, and I wonder what exactly we’re putting in our want ads for receptionists these days. Tossing the magazine and the card onto my empty desk, I boot up my computer. While I wait for it to load, I glance around the room. It appears all my files have been removed. I open one of my desk drawers, and it’s clean as well. I guess Brice took me at my word when I said I was leaving.
Once my desktop is online, I access the office intranet, searching for the files I’d uncovered the night of our win. I’m not surprised to find everything has been wiped clean.
I slip my hand in the my pocket of my blazer and take out the thumb drive I’d used to download everything that night—while I sat and polished off a fifth of scotch… before I left here with Tiffany.
“What an asshole,” I grumble, thinking of my former state.
At the same time, I’m not so quick to judge. I’d thought this firm, this status and position were my life, and I thought it was all crumbling to bits around me. I’d thought Ember was gone forever, and I was losing everything all over again. I had no idea I was so close to getting it all back… with benefits.
Being alone really fucks with your head.
Being alone and trapped in a life you hate is even worse. Passing a hand over my mouth, I hope I never find myself in that state again. Leaving this place and returning to Oceanside, even if I hadn’t found Ember waiting for me there, even if I’d only returned to a simple life of painting houses and being friends with André and being a part of that small community—it was the best decision I ever made.
Pulling out my phone, I send a quick text.
In the old corner office—couldn’t be more ready to leave.
A few moments pass, and I wonder what she’s doing now. She’s taking Coco to school and working on the new orders Tabby brought in on Saturday. She has Donna’s wedding cake to plan. I imagine my girl will be so busy this week, she might not even have time to miss me.
Although, I selfishly hope she does.
Hate sleeping alone now. CC wants cheesy eggs, #amgrumpy and all the coffee in the world isn’t making you here.
I laugh at her words.
Miss you, too. I love you.
Seeing it there, knowing she’s reading how I feel causes my chest to rise. It’s nothing compared to her words in response.
I love you, Jackson Cane.
The small clock on my desk chimes gently, letting me know it’s nine. I glance up at the square, brass device my dad had given me when I’d joined the firm. Nostalgia aside, I know what it means—here come the minions.
I slip the thumb drive into my pocket, knowing what I suspected is true. Brice didn’t waste time waiting to see what I’d do with the information I uncovered. He started deleting files and burying evidence the moment I left his mansion.
Tension tightens in my stomach. I wonder what else he’s done to protect himself and this firm. I have to be careful—I’ve been off the grid for almost two weeks. A lot can happen in that time.
My phone buzzes, and I snap into shark mode. Fuck what I said to my dad, I am a natural-born killer when it comes to this game, and I’m not letting these assholes get away with anything.
“Mr. Lockwood?” Erica’s voice purrs through the line.
“Yes, Erica,” I say coolly.
“Mr. Wagner will see you now.”
Standing, I have only the thumb drive in my pocket. My hands are empty when I stride toward the door. I want it that way. I want him to think I have nothing and he’s won. It actually tilts the balance of power in my favor.