Page 15 of Shattered Fate

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What did you think I meant?

Zarah covers the notebook with her arm, her fingers and wrist bare. She doesn’t wear rings. In fact, she doesn’t wear any jewelry. Her clothing and purse are the best of the best, but no gold anywhere.

“Not really.”

I sip my coffee. It’s strange barely speaking to the person I basically forced myself on to, but funnily enough, it’s okay. She has a calm I can appreciate. It’s probably not calm as much as it is wariness and a lot of suspicion thrown in, and maybe she’ll become a Chatty Cathy if I can convince her to relax around me, but for now, this is nice. The silence.

She slides her hand into her lap. “My therapist asked me to write a list. Ten reasons why a man would want me.”

“A self-esteem exercise?”

“Something like that.”

“Can I see what you’ve got?”

“I’m not—”

“I’m a man. Maybe I could offer an opinion?”

A hint of a smile plays with her mouth, and Jesus Christ if it doesn’t feel like it’s Christmas and my birthday all rolled into one.

She turns the notebook and stares into her coffee bowl as I read.

It’s supposed to be a list of attributes a man would want her for, but from one to ten all she wrote was “money” in capital letters.

I nudge it back to her, my hand shaking, and instead of leaving it on the table, she tucks it into her large purse.

“Only money?” I ask when I can speak.

“She said I couldn’t write down sex.”

Fury rips through me. Not because she thinks so little of herself, but because Ashton Black taught her to do it.

I don’t want her scared of me, and reining in my temper, I force myself to smile. “I should go.”Before I say something I shouldn’t.

“Do you have plans?” Her cheeks pink again.

She had the audacity to ask me a question. I don’t suppose she talks to too many people anymore and she’s not used to having a conversation, being allowed a give and take.

“I left Baby in my truck.”

“You have a baby? And you left it alone in yourtruck?”

Her outrage confuses me, and I blink until her words register in my brain. I laugh. “No. I have a dog, and her name is Baby. I came in to talk to you, and I left her in my truck. She’s not used to being by herself for too long, and I should go.”

Zarah straightens and her eyes light up. “Can I meet her?”

“Yeah?” She doesn’t seem like the type to like dogs. I could just imagine Baby farting on Zarah Maddox.

“Please?”

I shrug. “Sure. Do you want me to give you a lift home?”

“Oh, well. I live—”

“I know where you live, Zarah. I don’t mind or I wouldn’t have offered.”

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