Page 49 of Love Me Fierce

“You’ll get the hang of it,” Sepp says.

“I won’t need to,” I reply, taking a tiny sip. “I’m not staying.”

Sepp shrugs.

At lunch, I wait for the office to empty before I call Helen Amos. Her secretary answers.

“Hey, it’s Vivian Reece. Any chance Helen is in?”

“She’s just leaving for court, hang on.”

I wait through a two second pause. “Vivian!” Helen says in her smoky rasp. “Long time. How’s Idaho?”

“It’s great,” I say. “How’s the divorce business?”

“Constant,” she replies easily. “What can I do for you? Has that snake stopped paying child support? I have a new associate; she specializes in that kind of thing.”

“No, it’s not that.” I gulp a breath for bravery. “I’m worried Kent might be here.”

“Harassing you?”

“Yeah.” It feels weird to say it out loud.

She gives a low hum, and I picture her plump lips pursing in thought. “Let me make some calls.”

“I don’t want him to know, though.”

“Discretion, huh? My how the plot thickens. No problem.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll be in touch, doll.”

The endearment softens the ache in my chest a little. Because I’ve just asked my divorce lawyer to spy on my ex. Maybe that’s not weird to some people, but it rubs me the wrong way.

I close my eyes and pretend I’m throwing darts at a picture of Kent’s face.Whap, whap, whap.

I suck at darts, but the imagery helps.

Next I start the filing process with my rental insurance company. My landlord still hasn’t called me back, but I left a detailed message about the break-in with his secretary.

I decide to at least look for alternatives to returning to The Meadows. Just like yesterday, the VRBO sites pop up first. I skim down to a Zillow link that offers nine rentals. Two are too big for just me and Matty, three are too far from Finn River. I click through photos of the remaining four and check the maps to get a better idea of the neighborhoods.

There are pros and cons to each, but there’s one thing they all have in common: they are all outside my budget. Has rent really gone up that much since I signed the lease on the trailer?

A Europe trip is definitely out.

At least I have a chance at the data entry job with Professor Milankovitch. The Wi-Fi signal at the cabin is too weak to download any big files, but I’ll just grab them before I leave today, then do the work remotely. It’s not ideal though. Another reason to either get back into my trailer or find us a rental as soon as possible.

I don’t remember that I need to scrounge something for lunch until the break is nearly over. I just have enough time to grab a smoothie from The Sweet Spot, so I grab my purse and coat and dash out the door. But when I arrive, the lunch rush is in full effect. Stomach cramping with hunger, I’m about to spin back to my car when a familiar figure materializes from the other side of the line.

Everett’s serious brown eyes seem to brighten when he spots me. His uniform molds perfectly to his athletic frame and muscular arms, and that stubbled jawline of his practically begs for my fingertips. I wish I could stop imagining kissing him.

My face heats as he saunters toward me.

“How’s your day so far?” He’s carrying a white paper bag and smoothie.

A low grumble from my stomach reminds me that I still need to find nourishment in the next five minutes, or my afternoon is going to be unbearable—for me and for my coworkers. “Fine, except I forgot to get here before the rush.”

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