Page 41 of Forgive You

Perceptive son of a bitch.

“Are you five?” I reply because, clearly, I am.

He slams his palm onto my shoulder, then squeezes.

“No, I’m a big boy who actually dares to admit when he likes a girl.”

That’s easy because he likes everything with a vagina. The bar is pretty low, really.

“I don’t like her.” I inwardly roll my eyes at the lie.

“And I’m a virgin.” Ford’s laugh is full. “Maybe she just had other stuff to do.”

“More important than this?”

“Maybe she thinks I can handle it and that I don’t need a fucking babysitter.”

I pull a face, recalling our first meeting with Julie. Sure, she welcomed him, smooth-talked him a little, but he also made it clear she had her work cut out for her.

“Yeah,” I drawl sarcastically. “No.”

There’s no way she would bail and leave this up to her co-workers. Not for the first time. She’s too much of a perfectionist.

I hold back one of the interns strolling beside me, her beaming smile looking up at me as if her job requirement is to keep it on all day. “Excuse me, miss?”

She lifts her chin a little. “Ava. And you’re Jason Spencer and Ford Lawson.”

A blush creeps up her cheeks when she locks eyes with Ford, who throws out a wink in greeting.

I blow out an annoyed breath. “Where is Julie Bradford?”

“She called in sick,” the girl says before her expression changes to a bummed one, as if she’s truly missing her manager.

“Sick? Is she alright?” Worry trails up my spine, but I try to tamp it down with a frown.

“Wow, ten points for credibility,” Ford mumbles, and I throw my elbow into his ribs. “OUCH!”

Ignoring the hunched hockey player beside me, I direct the intern's troubled gaze back to mine with a snap of my fingers. “Is she alright?”

She nods, confusion etched around the irises of her light blue eyes while she observes Ford’s discomfort. “Ishe?”

“He’s fine.Focus. Where is Julie?”

“Yeah, she came down with the flu or something.”

“The flu, right.” Sounds like someone is playing hooky. I slide a warm smile in place. “I’m so sorry to hear that. Can you do me a favor? Can you text me her address? We’d love to send some flowers to wish her well.”

Ford snorts beside me, and I jerk my elbow in a threat before he takes a quick step to the side.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” The girl carefully volleys her gaze between the two of us, then sets her feet back in motion. “I will have that with you within five minutes, Mr. Spencer.”

“You are so full of shit.”

I rear my chin to the most annoying and, unfortunately, biggest client I have. Ford’s arms are crossed in front of his chest, a challenging look swirling in his gaze.

“What?” I bark.

“We’d like to send flowers? What, black roses? Maybe some dead wildflowers?”

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