Page 66 of Loving You

“Do you happen to know what his favorite flower is?” Monty chanced.

Adele shook his head, still smiling. “No, darlin’. But you can’t go wrong with a friendly mixed bouquet. I’ve gotten one once, and it was…nice. It was really, really nice.”

Chapter Seventeen

BRONX

Bronx’s dayhad gone from bad to weird in the span of the twelve seconds it took for his receptionist to say, “There’s a man waiting for you in your office.” For a moment, his heart leapt. Maybe Monty had shown up. Maybe he’d figured out a way to bribe reception to let him back.

Something he’d have to talk to them about since no one was supposed to be in there without his direct permission, but he’d let it go just this once.

Then he opened the door and saw Rod sitting in one of his guest chairs, his ankle hooked over his knee, looking almost bored. Bronx took a step back before collecting himself and walking into the room. He wasn’t going to let this man intimidate him.

“How did you get back here?”

“I told them I was your attorney,” he said.

“Cool. So you’re a liar and a fucking weirdo.” Bronx sat at his desk and stared him directly in the eye. “What do you want?”

“Your price.”

Bronx choked on his tongue before forcing himself to swallow. “Mywhat? I’m sorry. I thought we cleared up the whole I’m not a hooker thing back at Monty’s place.”

Rod sneered. “I’m well aware you’re not. I’d have preferred it if you were. This would be easier.” Rod reached into his jacket pocket and set a card down on the table. It was a Black Card. Bronx had only ever seen one once when a very wealthy client had paid for a tumor removal on his serval. “Your price.”

“Once again, not a hooker,” Bronx said. “I’d have a better house if I had clients with Black Cards.”

“I have a lot of money,” Rod said, tapping his finger beside the card. “Monty refuses to take it.”

“So you want to pay me to…?”

“Leave him alone,” Rod said.

Bronx rubbed at his eyes until he saw stars. “I really hate the fact that you’re not joking. Once again, I am not for hire. You can’t bribe me to stay away from my boyfriend.”

“You have a son. A new business. No home?—”

“Are you trying to threaten me? Because I do not take kindly to that,” Bronx said, his voice a sudden, low rumble. “I know men like you. I was married to a man like you, and I wiped the floor with him in court. You don’t scare me. The sad fact is that you still scare your son, but if I have my way, he’s going to forget what you look like soon enough.”

“He’ll never stop vying for my approval,” Rod said mildly.

Bronx laughed. “If that’s what you need to tell yourself so you can sleep at night, that’s fine by me. But in ten years, when your little Black Card isn’t enough to keep a person in your bed longer than a few days and you’re on your eleventh divorce, you’ll remember this. You’ll look at your son, who has never been happier, and you’ll choke onregret.” He stared at Rod’s skeptical expression. “Or maybe you’ll keep living your life and not give a shit what happens to your kids. Frankly, it’s all the same to me since I’ll be the one making Monty happy.”

Rod stood up and pressed two fingers over the card. “Everyonehas a price.”

“Yeah. My price to walk away is Monty telling me that he’s not in love with me and doesn’t want to see me again. I cannot and will not be bought. I know it’s hard for someone like you to understand, but maybe go away and sit with it for a while. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” When Rod didn’t move, Bronx sighed. “Have a nice day.”

“You’re too old for him,” Rod said, but he picked up his card. “How’s it going to be in ten years? In fifteen years, when his stamina is growing and yours is waning?”

“Why don’t you call me and let me know,” Bronx said flatly. “I’m sure you’re nearly there.”

Rod slipped the card back into his pocket. “You’ll regret this.”

“I won’t. And if you try some shit like this again, I have friends who can make you sorry. Your money doesn’t mean shit in a small town like this where people grew up together. So run along,” Bronx said, waving him off with his hand. “Go torment one of your other kids who actually puts up with it.”

Silence fell as Rod left, and Bronx waited ten minutes before walking into reception and clearing his throat. The two women looked over at him nervously.

“That man is not my attorney. I don’t currently have an attorney on retainer, and I sure as hell wouldn’t see them at my place of work.”

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