Page 85 of Obsession

“Because Megan’s only dream is to be an artist,” I answer, asking myself what I’m doing all of this for.

“Then you’re going to like this,“ Parker says, quite pleased with himself.

“What?”

He pulls out a manilla file folder he was hiding underneath his shirt. It’s full of university spreadsheets and interoffice memos that Parker must have lifted from the accounting department.

“A fucking dreamcatcher for Megan.”

Chapter 29

Now That I’ve Had A Taste

HUNTER

“Iknew the asshole was embezzling money,” I comment as I study the copy of the account ledger during the drive back.

“I’ve never seen you be so strategic about something like this, boss,” Lars looks at me through the rear-view mirror as Parker drives. “You’re going to be more active in Megan’s college now?”

“Yeah, they obviously cheated our girl out of a spot in the gallery show. In instances like this, you usually shed blood first and ask questions later,” Parker grins, looking over his shoulder at me from the passenger seat.

“That’s not entirely true,” I turn the page, raising a brow at some of the expenses. “Sometimes you have to let people walk into the fire first. Makes it easier to control them.”

“And you did this for the girl?” Lars asks, and my hand tightens on the papers even as I keep my voice casual.

“I can be nice at times.”

Parker makes a scoffing sound, which I ignore.

“Drop me off at home. I’m going to shower and sleep before I come back to work.”

Parker doesn’t say anything, simply turning the car around. Instead of getting out in the underground parking lot, I decide to use the main entrance. I am at the elevator in the main lobby, and just as the doors are closing, I hear a familiar voice shout, “Hold the elevator!”

I oblige by sliding my hand in the middle of the doors to keep them from closing, only to see Megan run at full speed, struggling with three shopping bags. When she enters the elevator car and sees me standing there, she gasps. “Thanks, Mr. Middleton.”

Megan looks so shocked to see me that I have to wonder if she forgot I lived here too. She’s wearing a short-sleeved pink sweater that looks like it’s had better days and a pair of tight jeans with slits at the knees. Her hair is in a messy bun and looks fucking gorgeous.

“We’re not at work,” I remind her.

“Right,” she blushes. “Thanks for holding the door, Hunter.”

“What’s that?” I ask, gesturing towards all the bags.

“Groceries and a few art supplies. There was a sale at Target, so I rushed there after class. Then, there was a farmers’ market open next to Target. They’re usually only open on Sundays when the pickings are slim, so I took advantage of it and got a lot of groceries. I’m going to make tandoori butter chicken. I got the flour, see?”

She points towards a white-looking bag. I don’t know why I thought the next time she saw me, she’d be a little shy. After all, we spent a steamy night together in Paris, but Megan looks completely unaffected.

It bothers me for some reason.

“You look like you’re in a good mood,” I say, begrudgingly.

The smile she gives me is brilliant, and I blink at the sight of it, feeling a little dazed.

“You know the competition I told you about, where five students were selected to display their artwork? Well, evidently, the professor in charge of the selection process was fired, and they’re getting some professional art curator to come in and reselect the winners. The results will be announced tomorrow.” She grins.

“You’re happy about that?” I ask, feeling an odd sort of satisfaction.

“Happy?” She grins. “You should’ve seen the look on Ashley’s face! You remember her, right? She’s the girl I was telling you I have a little beef with.”

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