Page 3 of Forgive You

Her plump lips shoot a smile to Edward, and the corner of my mouth lifts in a frown that quickly turns into a grimace when her attention moves to Ford.

“Oh, I don’t mind you taking over, honey.” Ford’s winks.

I instinctively throw my elbow into his ribs, and he hunches forward.

Goddamn fuckboy.

“Oomph, goddamnit,” Ford mutters.

“Nice to meet you, Ford. I’ve heard a lot about you.” Ignoring our violent display of affection, Julie offers her sleek hand to the literal thorn in my side.

“I have to admit, all the stories are true, but I promise to do better if you ask nicely.” Relentlessly, Ford puts his flirty smile back in place, and it’s quickly followed by another attack to theribs from yours truly, before I catch Julie’s eyes rolling to the back of her head.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Ford mumbles with tight lips. “Don’t forget I sign your checks.”

“Whatever,” I mumble, throwing Edward a reassuring expression.

We don’t have to pretend this relationship is still purely professional. We passed that stadium the moment I flew to Boston and bought his ass out of an illegal poker game with a crime lord that was about to end with a bullet in his head.

“Julie.” I offer my hand and suck an extra ounce of air in my chest to dim the obvious fire in my eyes. “Nice to see you.”

Heat instantly trails up the rest of my arm when she firmly grabs it, the brittle hairs lifting to the air, followed by a jitter along my spine when our eyes collide. Flashes of temptation crackle in the air while parts of my body spring alive when I find her gaze rimmed with the same shock I feel.

“Yeah, you too.” Her lips curl slightly. I know her well enough to read that as a silent peace offering, before I release her hand, wondering where the ring is.

I’m not interested in peace offerings, though. Not even a little bit. Not anymore.

I’m interested in asking what the fuck she’s doing here. I’m interested in why she’s not in her corner office at her father’s real estate company. No, actually, I’m interested in when she’s catching a plane back to North Carolina.

But being fully aware of the situation I’m in, I conjure a fake smile onto tense features as Edward glances between us with curiosity. “Wait, you two know each other?”

“Yeah, we went to high school together.” I catch the slight lift of Julie’s trimmed eyebrows, but repay it with daring eye contact.

“Well, look at that. What a small world.” Edward gestures at the conference room to the right. “Why don’t you take a seat here and Julie will explain what we have in mind for the next couple of weeks.”

“Are you not joining us?” The only thing worse than sitting in a room with this woman is sitting in a room with her and Ford and no normal human there to act as a buffer. It’s like a free ticket to a car crash and I’m behind the wheel.

No thanks.

“No, Ford will be Julie’s client. Don’t worry, you’ll be in good hands.” Edward winks before he waves goodbye and finds his way back to his office.

“I doubt that,” I mumble, loud enough for Julie to send me a glare. But she quickly recovers, batting her lashes with that sweet smile springing free.

Fuck this.

I release the air in my lungs with a grunt when a hint of that damn vanilla wafts into my nose. Brushing past her, I drop my ass on the chair opposite to the door, and wait till Ford takes his seat at the glass table next to me. Julie pulls two bottles of water from the tray beside the door and turns around, silently placing them in front of us.

“Thank you, beautiful.” Ford shoots her a grin that’s stopped by his teeth clamped into his lower lip, and I roll my eyes before she starts the meeting.

I hate her.

I hate that she’s sitting in front of me with a poised attitude like this isn’t the least bit uncomfortable. I hate that she’s looking sexy as hell in her light jeans and checkered jacket, with a white crop top that shows just a sliver of her velvety skin. I hate how her golden locks flow perfectly over her shoulders.

I hate that her pink nail polish tells me she started this morning with a smile on her face, even though for the lastthirty minutes, it has been nothing short of an Oscar-worthy performance. I hate that I can’t concentrate, fully distracted by the soft gloss on her plump, pouty lips as she goes through whatever plan they have for Ford.

For twenty minutes, I’ve been trying to direct my mind back to the conversation numerous times, picking up the occasional words likephotoshoot, commercial, public appearances, and cleaning up his reputation. But my mind is more occupied, trying to connect the dots to comprehend the situation.

Did she plan this?

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