Money Man (King Maker 1)

I walked into the apartment to find Lizzy dressed for a night on the town.

“Where are you going, butterfly?” I teased.

“Date,” she said.

She’d been seeing the guy she’d met the night I met Kalen.

“I have to say, you sure have been spending a lot of time with this model.” I gave her a knowing stare. He wasn’t her normal type of rougher around the edges.

“I’m trying something new. You know, Matt’s been giving my parents heartburn, especially when he didn’t go see them when he came into town. Mom is just devastated.” I saw Lizzy’s pain for her parents. “He’d asked Mom to meet him for lunch without Dad and she refused. I don’t know, Bails.” She sighed. “I guess I’m trying to be the good daughter for once.”

She had it wrong. From what I could tell, Lizzy was always good to her parents, except when it came to who she dated.

“And how long will that last?” I teased, trying to lighten the mood.

“Who knows,” she said. “But he’s fun and he’s always taking me to all of these industry events. I see the most interesting people. The other day I saw,” and she rattled off the names of a few celebrities known to live in New York. “Anyways, though he’s not a ton of fun in the sack, we can work on that.” She shrugged. If I’d still been with Scott, I might have understood. But I’d seen the light. I wasn’t sure I could stay with someone forever anymore and not have great sex.

“So why stay with him?” I asked, peeking out from my search in the refrigerator.

“Oh honey, all men can be taught. He may not be a natural, but I’ll still get mine.” And she winked.

Shaking my head, I went back to foraging for food. I had to admire her frankness.

“Well, I’m off. You can scream your head off without notice from me tonight,” she said, winking again for good measure. Clearly, she’d heard me last night.

The ache between my legs was further evidence of Kalen being there. But tonight, I was on my own. I ate a salad while reading my latest historical novel. This one featured a cover of a sexy Highlander in a kilt holding a sword. I couldn’t help imagining Kalen in one. The hero was in the middle of ravaging his woman when my phone rang.

Setting the book down, I answered with a “Hello.” I knew it was Kalen because it said unknown caller on the display. It didn’t seem to matter that I’d programmed his number in; the privacy feature didn’t register it.

When there was no response, I said, “Hello” again. After another soundless second, I hung up.

I almost called Kalen back. Very few people had my number outside of work—Lizzy, Matt, Scott, and Kalen. And only one of them had an unregistered phone number.

Kalen.

Thoughts that he might have a wife, or a significant other, invaded my thoughts. Nothing else made sense. She’d probably checked his phone like I had Scott’s and she’d been bold enough to call the number.

Hurt cramped in my gut. Although I held the tears inside, all the feelings of foolishness that I had unwisely trusted Scott came roiling back in. The salad I’d eaten threatened to come back up.

I went into my room, and tried to sleep as I convinced myself I was overreacting. I would give Kalen the chance to answer the question before I drew any more conclusions.

Twenty-Three

Lack of sleep over the last several days was my excuse for having overslept. I made it into the office five minutes before Scott showed up. I was reaching into my bag when I noticed the small brown envelope I’d forgotten from the night before. Curious, I opened it and immediately frowned.

Unfolding the single sheet of white paper revealed a short note that read stop what you’re doing. I read it again before refolding it.

Who the devil, I thought until two likely suspects who could be culpable for the note popped in my head. Based on the scripted handwriting that was suspiciously feminine was the clue. Scott’s new fiancée if she’d overheard his drunken confession to me or Kalen’s wife. The latter seemed ridiculous. Even if he were involved with someone, how would she have found where I worked? The obvious conclusion was Scott’s girlfriend.

As calmly as I could, I said, “Scott, can I speak with you?” I got up from my seat and he followed me out of the room.

“Look, I don’t know what’s going on with you and Marisa—”

“Melissa,” he corrected.

I waved a hand. “Whatever her name is you set things straight with her. We are not getting back together, so she doesn’t need to send me threatening notes. You’d think now that she has the ring, she’d feel secure.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “You have given her the ring?”