Page 73 of Negotiating Tactics

I, however, hadn’t found a moment’s rest.

Every time I looked at her, I was so overwhelmed with anger that it left me trembling.

Based on what little I knew of him, I already deeply disliked her father.

Birdie had offhandedly mentioned him being unreliable but hadn’t given me more information when I had tried to dig.

Alex had mentioned him even less, a reference to him going here or there, a call, or a text. But every time she spoke of him, I saw a change in her.

Subtle, but I didn’t miss anything when it came to Alex and could see the hurt stamped all over her face, see the slump in her posture.

See some of her beautiful light dimmed.

But to hear the story…

Maybe I was just angry for myself.

A reasonable enough conclusion, especially since Alex’s story was so like my own.

But it wasn’t just commiseration that raised my ire. Prescott had fucked me over, sure, but to see Alex hurt…

I couldn’t abide it.

Wouldn’t.

“What do you need, Mr. Wilder?” the woman on the other end of line said.

“Everything there is to know about Alex McPherson. There are two. I’m looking for information on the older male Alex McPherson, mid-to-late fifties.”

“A birthdate, sir?” she asked.

“No,” I responded.

“When do you need this information?”

“Now,” I said.

“I’ll be back in touch within the hour,” she responded.

I hung up the phone, then went to Alex’s kitchen.

I lacked anything in particular to do, but the energy coursing through me wouldn’t allow me to stay still.

I despised seeing Alex like this, despised seeing the sadness and vulnerability that I knew she hated to show.

But it meant more than I could say that she had shared her hurt with me.

It proved that if nothing else, I had her trust, something I knew wasn’t freely given.

Another way Alex was like my nonna.

Neither was quick to trust, but when they did, it was all in.

And to think her piece of shit father would toss that away.

I put down the glass I was holding before I shattered it and then went back to the living room.

Before I could sit on that fucking couch I hated so much, my phone buzzed, and I went back to the kitchen.

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