Beautiful Liar (The Reed Rivers Trilogy 2)
My heart skips a beat. He’s so freaking yummy, I can barely stand it. “Yeah, I can honestly say I’ve been thinking about you, pretty much nonstop, since I left Leonard’s office. How was the meeting with the expert, by the way?”
“Couldn’t have gone better. She agrees the copyright infringement lawsuit is total and complete bullshit—nothing but a meritless money-grab by an unscrupulous plaintiffs’ lawyer.”
“Oh, that’s great news.”
“It is. I already knew the lawsuit is bullshit. But the legal system is such a crap shoot sometimes. It’s nice to hear an expert confirm what I already know.”
“I bet. You’ve been sued a lot, huh?”
“Oh, God, Georgie. So many times, I’ve lost count. It would boggle your mind if you saw an actual list of all the times one of my companies has been sued for one thing or another over the years.”
I look down at the printout of lawsuits that’s coincidentally sitting on my lap at this very moment, and my stomach tightens again. Why do I feel like I’m doing something terribly wrong by having this printout? Why do I feel like I’m doing something disloyal by being here at all, and not telling Reed about it? Truly, I need to take a chill pill, keep my eye on the prize, and my mouth shut—at least, for now, until I know what’s in the documents I’ve ordered. For all I know, I’ll read the entire stack and think, Yeah, so what?
“Hey, maybe I should come to the coffee place and meet this other reporter,” Reed says. “I could reschedule my team meeting...”
“No!” I take a deep breath. “Don’t do that. Just go about your normal life. I don’t want to be a disruption.”
He chuckles. “Well, it’s too late for that. You’ve already knocked my world off its axis, Georgina.”
My breathing halts. “You’ve knocked my world off its axis too,” I whisper. I cup my hand to the phone, so nobody else waiting in the clerk’s office will overhear me. “I feel addicted to you, Reed. So horny for you, I think I might be losing my mind.”
He lets out a slow exhale. “Amalia’s leaving at five today. Be at my house at five-oh-one.”
“I’ll be there. I can’t wait to be alone with you again. Now that I’m hearing your voice again, I’m physically craving you.”
His breathing has become audible. “I can’t wait to make you scream again. I can’t stop thinking about the way it felt to fuck you in my swing.”
“Georgina?” a male voice says, and I abruptly swivel my head toward the counter, bug-eyed, like a thief caught with two bags of money. Charles, the clerk, is approaching the counter.
“I’ve got to go,” I blurt to Reed. “The... barista just called my name for my coffee order. I’ll see you at five-oh-one.”
“Don’t be late.”
“I won’t.”
My heart racing, I hang up, feeling like an asshole, a liar, a scumbag for lying to Reed, and stride to the counter. “Wow, that was fast. Thank you.”
Charles puts a large cardboard box onto the counter between us. Its side is imprinted with the words Courthouse Copy Service. “This is everything,” he says. “There weren’t a lot of documents in each file. Just the plaintiff’s complaint, the defendant’s answer, and a notice of settlement.”
“Perfect.” I pay for the copies and reach for the box, but Charles doesn’t let go of it. “Why don’t I carry this to your car for you? It’s kind of heavy.”
“I’m strong. I can handle it. Plus, I don’t have a car. But, thanks.”
“Well, how about we grab a coffee, then? I’m due for my break.”
Shit. Seriously? I don’t have time for this. “Thanks for the kind offer. But I’ve actually got a boyfriend, so...” I physically yank the box from Charles’ grasp. “Thank you so much for expediting this for me. You’re a prince. Bye now. Have a great day.” And off I go, as fast as my legs will carry me, while lugging a pretty heavy cardboard box.
When I get outside, I put the box down and pull out my phone. “Siri, where is the nearest coffee place?”
“I think I’ve found what you’re looking for,” Siri replies, showing me several nearby choices. I pick one, rest the box of legal documents onto my hip, and head off, excited to find a quiet spot where I can sip an iced coffee and devour as much of the contents of this box as possible before heading to Reed’s house... where, God willing, he’ll take me to heaven again, the same way he did in his swing this morning... only, this time, perhaps while tied to the four posters of his bed.
Chapter 14
Reed
Me: Where the hell are you, butterfly? It’s 5:18 and my net is rock hard and ready to capture you (so I can thereafter tack your wings to paper and enclose you in an airtight frame).