Page 20 of Tied Up in Riches

Maci: I’m going to ask Dean if Marcus has said anything to him.

Lexy: I’ll ask Troy too.

Me: No way. I work for him now!

Lexy: You’re the one who brought up the restraints. At least part of you must be curious.

Me: I’m not getting tied up by my boss.

Lexy: You better tell us about it when you do.

Chapter ten

Brooke

The sharp sound of my phone ringing cuts through the silence of my meditation, jolting me upright from where I was lying on the workout mat in Marcus’ home gym. With a newly racing heart, I check the caller ID, only to reach an all new high-speed, nearly beating out of my chest when I see the name.

Beau.

What the . . .

I haven’t talked to him since I ran away from our engagement. That doesn’t mean he hasn’t tried. He called multiple times a day for the first few weeks, but I ignored every one. I know it was immature of me not to deal with it then. Maybe I at least owe him the courtesy of a conversation now. Someone must have told him I’m back on the same continent because ever since I returned to the states, he’s been texting and calling at least once a day. I should just get it over with.

I still hesitate with my finger over the Accept, but give in and pull the phone to my ear.

“Beau.”

“Hey, babe.”

“Don’t call me that,” I spit with a tone somewhere between disgust and annoyance. “What do you want?”

“Is that how you’re going to talk to me after three years? After everything we’ve been through together?”

“After everything you’ve put me through, you mean?”

“Don’t play the victim. The story of us you’ve created in your head isn’t in alignment with the truth, and you know it.”

“What do you want?”

“For you to come home. It’s time.”

“Says who?”

“Your mother. And Me. The Cancer Week fundraisers are coming up. Your favorite events at the club.” I’m shocked he remembers something about me, despite his poor delivery and word choice.

“I’m not ready to come home yet, Beau,” I admit.

“It’s time. It’s the least you could fucking do, Brooke. Either way, I already bought your flight home.”

“You did what?!”

“Brooke, you’re coming home. In two weeks. That should give you plenty of time to wrap things up with your little friends.”

“And what if I say no?”

“Either you show up, or I’ll make sure your mom doesn’t have a job to show up to.”

I suck in a breath. “You wouldn’t,” I call his bluff. I haven’t talked to him in years. I can’t understand why he even cares. Maybe he just needs the last word?

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