Page 67 of The Roman's Woman (A Singular Obsession)

Sophia would be furious if he interfered with her handling Richard tonight, but what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. He was only going to drive himself over to the Englishman’s house and sit outside.

If all went well, she would never know that he was there. But if there was any sign she was having trouble, he would be close by to make sure she was all right.

****

Eight, nine, ten…

Counting wasn’t working. Sophia was still so angry she couldn’t see straight. It was a small miracle she’d been able to drive without getting into an accident.

She took the steps of her father’s house two at a time and knocked on the door with a determined balled-up fist. Several minutes passed before she saw movement at the curtains.

“Richard! Open up!”

Still nothing. He was sitting behind the curtain, watching her like some sort of peeping Tom. Did he think she was going to give up and go home? The entire house was lit up. It was obvious he was home.

“I can see you behind the curtain damn it! Open the fucking door!”

That finally did it. The door swung open and Richard stood there, a sour expression on his face. “Darling, I know I’m in the wrong here, but that is no reason we can’t have a civilized conversation like two decent people.”

“Decent!” The man had some brass balls on him. “Are you fuckingkiddingme?”

A look of sheer panic crossed his face. Scanning over her head, he pulled her inside and shut the door.

“Are you seriously afraid of what the neighbors will say? After what you did?”

Richard stepped back and ushered her deeper inside the house. He had redecorated, replacing her father’s Spanish-inspired decor with heavier furnishings. It looked like the inside of an English lodge.

Suddenly that made her furious. “What did you do—throw away all his things after you took his research and published it under your name?

“Sophia, will you stop please and listen? I didn’t steal a single thing.” He stood up straighter and stared down his long narrow nose at her. “Your father stole from me.”

She shook her head. “Unbelievable! I never realized what a liar you are.”

He threw up his hands. “I’m not lying, and I’m insulted that you would believe I would. I'm aware we’ve been having a hard time lately but you are still my best friend in the world and Jorge was like a father to me.”

He stepped closer to her and put his hands on her shoulders. “I swear I’m telling you the truth. I helped your father out from time to time and he took the idea to study online trolling from me. I had no idea he had pursuedmyidea behind my back. When I found out, I was crushed. Completely disillusioned “

Her breath was trapped in her lungs. God, he was good.

Sophia exhaled slowly. “Nice try. But he didn’t get the idea for the study from you. He got it fromme.”

She had never told anyone that, not even Kelly. It hadn’t been a big deal at the time. One freezing Sunday morning, she had been sitting there in his garage while her father worked on his car. They had run out of topics of conversation so she brought up a blog post she’d read recently on the harassment of female bloggers in the gaming industry. The article discussed how the Internet allowed for the evolution of online trolls, people who hid behind the anonymity of their computers to say and act with impunity.

Since it was a question related to his field, her father’s attention had been caught and he started talking to her about it—really talking and not lecturing. It was the most two-sided conversation they’d ever had. Instead of sermonizing, he listened and they’d debated pros and cons until he came up with a unique angle he wanted to pursue further.

Of course in time she regretted giving him the idea. Since she’d come up with the topic in the first place, her father assumed she would be eager to hear all the details. She had been privy to the evolution of his thoughts on the subject and then some. She knew way more about online trolls than she wanted to.

“From you?” Richard finally asked, his face was twisted in dismay.

“Yes. During one of our damn Sunday morning visits. So don’t stand there lying to my face and say he stole it from you because I know better.”

He paled, turning a pasty gray. Staggering to the new leather sofa, he threw himself down on it and buried his face in his hands.

In all her time with Richard, she’d never seen him display that kind of emotion. He was never at a disadvantage, and he never dropped that superior attitude of his. She almost felt sorry for him.

Don’t even think about letting him off the hook. He had lied and until she called him on it, he’d expected to get away with it. She couldn’t let that happen.

“You have to go to the dean of the University and tell him the truth.”

---