Secret Desires (Roughshod Rollers MC 4)
I came into the café expecting him to end it. But that didn’t make it any easier, especially with the way it went down.
I feel a vibration in my pocket, and I fish my phone out, avoiding the looks I’m starting to get. It’s from my boss.
“I’m sorry, I need an answer soon.”
He’s run out of time to run interference, then. I hesitate, and then send a message back.
“I’ll take the job.”
It’s time to live my own life.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Ethan
Slowly, I put the phone down. In the living room, I hear Lily cheering at the television, still bouncing around as all the sugar she consumed today races through her system. Alex’s words are ringing in my ears.
I have her.
It’s the good news I needed today after what just happened with Georgia. I feel like the worst person in the world, especially after seeing the way she was struggling to hold back her tears. I almost didn’t go through with it; instead I wanted to get down on my knees and beg her not to accept the job.
In the end, it was that desire that decided
it for me. I can’t be the one to hold her back from promotions and things like that. If I could, I’d just fucking go with her, but I have Lily to think about, too; I can’t just uproot her from her school.
Which means I have to stay, and Georgia needs to go out there and find her place. She’ll be rubbing shoulders with important people…she has the talent and the ambition to go far. I’m not going to be the one who keeps her here.
It was still so very hard, though.
“Suck it up,” I tell myself.
Now, though, I feel the first stirrings of optimism. Thanks to Alex, I finally have something to use against Polly. With luck, if I play my cards right and do exactly what Alex told me, I can get her and her husband to drop the case entirely.
I pull up my messages and type a message to Polly.
“Come around tomorrow. We need to talk about custody.”
Long minutes pass before she replies.
“Ok.”
I tuck my phone away and breathe in deeply. I have a plan.
Despite the fact that I didn’t set a time, Polly knocks on my door at precisely midday the next day. I put my coffee down, set my shoulders and head to the door.
Showtime.
“Hello, Polly,” I greet as I open the door. “Come in.”
Polly has a hard look on her face as she steps inside. She’s holding a folder, which I assume must contain everything that she and her husband have so far put together for their case against me. It’s likely these are just copies, but I’m impressed, somewhat, that they’re professional enough to show me how they’re going to attack me now that I know everything.
It also means that they’re confident enough in what they have to win, despite having told me what they’re going to throw at me.
“Don’t you clean up?” Polly asks, grimacing at the shoes strewn in front of the cupboard.
Well, one good thing is that she’s not trying to hide her feelings anymore. I knew from the moment she arrived that she hated this house, and now she’s the outspoken, blunt and often rude Polly I once knew.
“On occasion,” I say lightly. “When important guests are over.”