Page 84 of Married With Lies

“It won’t be,” Cale says. “The Gallant’s Steakhouse prince will keep his throat intact.”

Perhaps I should have been more specific that the rest of Grant ought to stay intact as well. I loathe violence and no matter what Grant has done, I won’t be the cause of any violence on my behalf. I’m not sure it would do much good to coax Cale into another pinky swear.

Anyway, I don’t feel like talking about Grant anymore.

“I like your apartment,” I tell Cale. “Is it yours or are you renting?”

“Bought the place two years ago.”

“Nice. This neighborhood isn’t cheap.”

“I know.”

I’m hesitating to ask the next question. But if Cale wants to tell me the subject is none of my business, then let him say so.

“What do you do, Cale? I mean, aside from working for your uncle. Clearly, you do extremely well financially.”

“Clearly,” he says. Then he shrugs. “I had a small trust from my parents and I started out with stock investments. Then along came cryptocurrency and when most people balked at the idea I went all in. Turned out to be a good idea.”

I chew the corner of my lip. “So you don’t really need to work for your uncle, do you?”

Cale falls silent. He looks away while I hug the tissue box.

“Yes I do, Sadie,” he says. I know him well enough to detect some sadness. And a lot of finality.

When I’m a split second away from reaching for his hand, Cale leaves the couch. He passes the bookcase and picks up the photo of him and his brother. He holds it in his hands, staring at it for a moment, then puts it back and walks to the nearest window.

He stays there for a while, just looking at the world outside and yet perhaps seeing something else entirely. I stare at him, memorizing the way he stands when he’s lost in thought and admiring the planes of his strong back.

As eager as I am to return to Bright Hearts and leave the appalling wedding memories behind, I wish my flight wasn’t tomorrow. When I leave here I have no clue when I’ll be seeing Cale again. The idea is almost unbearable.

“Make a list,” he says, still facing away.

“Okay. Should I add anything in particular?”

He turns and flashes a quick grin. “Make a list of any books you might want and I’ll go find them.”

“That will be a lot of books. Like, A LOT.”

“I’ve got time and I’ve got money.”

“I’m not sure they’ll all fit inside my suitcase.”

“Then I’ll buy you an extra suitcase.”

“You think of everything. Did you really burn the peach dress?”

“To a crisp,” he says and opens the drawer of a small desk. He pulls out a notepad and pen and sets both down on the wooden coffee table. “Go ahead, be ambitious.”

As I pick up the pen and paper, I’m sure that if I wasn’t falling in love with Cale Connelly before, he just sealed the deal.

23

CALE

Something I’ll never get used to is how some of these rich legacy bastards get handed the golden keys to the universe and then decide to become the dumbest motherfuckers who ever breathed.

That’s the category where Grant Gallant belongs. While I wasn’t shocked to hear he’s a lousy prick, his treatment of Sadie deserves a whole new level of outrage.

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