Page 17 of The Wife Situation

“Why does it matter? I’m a random person you had fired. A complete stranger.”

He straightens his stance. “Maybe you won’t be, going forward.”

I swallow hard.

“What do you need?”

“A job so I can pay my rent next week. Are you hiring?” I sarcastically ask. There’s no way I’d work for a man like him.

“How much is it?” He’s acting polite.

I take a step away from him so I can breathe without being encapsulated by his intoxicating scent.

“Actually, it doesn’t matter. I’ll take care of it. Consider the next year paid for,” he says. “Anything else?”

I meet his gaze. “You’re serious?”

A grin takes up residence on his sculptured face. “I am.”

“I’m sorry, but you can’t buy my forgiveness. That’s not how this works.”

“Well aware. I look forward toearningit.”

“Why?” I question.

In a heartbeat, Easton removes the space between us, leaning over to whisper in my ear, “Because Ilovea challenge.”

His hot breath is on my skin, and my body temperature rises …again.

“I won’t make this easy for you,Easton.”

“I don’t ever take the easy way out. Let me give you my number.”

He holds out his palm, and I don’t knowwhyI hand him my phone, but I do.

It doesn’t take long before he’s placing it back in my hand. I glance down at the contact he added, noticing he programmed himself as ASSHOLE.

“Call or text me if you needanything,” he says.

“I’ve got to go,” I whisper. My ability to speak nearly vanishes, and I’m convinced I’m still asleep, that this is a weird dream that I haven’t woken up from.

“Well, I hope you have the day you deserve, Lexi.” He repeats the words I’ve said to him twice now. “Maybe I’llcrashinto you again.”

I walk away, annoyed that he’s so fucking attractive. When I look over my shoulder to steal one last glance, he hasn’t moved. Instead, he’s watching me with his arms crossed over his chest, wearing that delicious smirk.

It’s then I realize I’m dancing with the devil; after all, he did damn me to Hell the day we met.

6

EASTON

Birthday countdown: 38 days

Since meeting her: 8 days

It’s been eight days since I returned to the city, met Lexi Matthews, and had her fired. And a week has passed since I saw her last.

I spent Monday and Tuesday catching up on emails. Wednesday and Thursday, I was forced to attend meetings from dawn until dusk. Now, it’s Friday, and I’ve barely been able to piss in peace without talking to someone.

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