Page 97 of Obsession

“No, I don’t, but you’re in no shape to be making decisions. Do you realize you just got your first six-figure deal on a piece of art?”

“Because of Blake Carson,” I shouted.

“No, he may have been the final bid, but he wasn’t the only one who wanted that statue.”

“Then contact Thomas Barrington, or whatever his name is. Let him pay the last bid before Blake.”

“You know that’s not how these things work, Grace.”

I wanted to stomp my foot and scream. I wanted to smash my beloved angel over Blake’s damn head. What the hell was he thinking?

“If you won’t take back the offer, I’m going to go talk to him and make him rescind it.”

“Grace, what is wrong with you?”

“I can’t—” I sucked back a sob. So many people knew I’d lost the house, and about my grandmother’s Will and the lack of funds. I couldn’t spell it out here.

I couldn’t bear to see pity on her face. Not now. Not tonight.

Everyone knew that Blake had purchased my grandmother’s house. Why couldn’t she connect the dots?

“He can’t have this too.”

Phil’s brow furrowed. Did she honestly not get it?

Angry puffs of breath were the only thing between us.

Finally, her hands fell to her sides. I walked backward, swiping at the angry tears that had fallen, then I ran to my car.

I peeled out onto the access road and headed for Boston. It didn’t matter that it was the middle of the night. He wouldn’t be home. He’d be in his glass palace.

With each barrier to getting to him, I got angrier. Cars, pedestrians, people laughing and spilling out of restaurants to tie up roads crammed with taxis—all of it was maddening.

It was a holiday weekend. The tourism to Boston was triple that of the small town of Marblehead.

My fingers ached from gripping the wheel. My voice was hoarse from screaming inside my little car. I didn’t want to see happy faces celebrating the impending Christmas season.

More reminders of how alone I was.

The first bright moment in my life and Blake had tainted it. Was nothing mine? Did he have to own it all?

Parking was an absolute joke. Finally, I slid into a spot at a nearby drugstore and sprinted across the street.Carson Covenant Inc.vaulted into the sky. The glass vestibule gleamed with Christmas colors along the seams of the panels.

Christmas here too.

Not for the joy of it. No, it was because it was expected. Blake always did what was expected when it came to business.

Except when he fucked you brainless in that glass box.

My fingers curled into fists again as I swung the door open. When I got inside the vestibule, the lobby door was locked. I slapped the door.No. No, I couldn’t come all the way down here and not get inside.

I juggled my phone out of my purse. Of course, the signal was gone, but the time on the face of my phone read 11:27.

Not locked down yet.

I slapped on the door.

“Can I help you, Ms. Copeland?”

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