Page 27 of Heart of Stone

She took the handkerchief, and hesitated for a second or two before answering me. Guilt briefly clouded her features.

“Of course, what else would he want? He probably just came off of a bad run on the craps table. But, you know how it is…just a little extra cash will put him on top again. I’m sure he has one of his hunches again,” she sarcastically remarked.

Justine was bitter, and I didn’t blame her for being that way. However, I did blame her for the handouts that she’d been giving him, despite their recent divorce. Justine didn’t spend every penny that I gave her on herself, but saved a part of it to keep the leach off her back. I never told her that I knew about it, but often wondered why she did it. He must have been reaching deeper into her pockets than I had assumed.

It needs to end. Now.

“I’ll handle it.”

“But how? You know him, Alex. He won’t stop. He’ll just come back again when he’s down.”

“I don’t now what I’m going to do just yet. Let me make some calls, talk to my lawyer. Stephen will know what we can do about this legally. In the meantime, I don’t want you to be upset about it. And if he calls again, direct him to me. That should stall him for a bit. He’s always been a chicken-shit when it comes to me.”

“I’m sorry, Alex. I never thought he’d stoop this low.”

“You didn’t? Seriously,” I said, disgusted with her naivety even after all this time. “The man has no conscience. You should have learned that the first time he slammed your head into the kitchen wall.”

“Yeah, well…I never was one to learn from my mistakes,” she emitted spitefully. Her voice cracked and fresh tears filled her eyes. I was instantly overcome with shame.

What the fuck is wrong with me today?

“Look, I’m sorry. That was a low blow. I know you did what you thought was best at the time. As for all of this other bullshit, I told you that I’d handle it, and I will.”

“I hope you can, Alex. He’s asking for an awful lot of money,” she said, voice full of disbelief, shaking her head back and forth.

I didn’t bother to ask how much. It didn’t matter. He wasn’t getting another dime from her or me.

“I’ve got this. Go home, Justine. Call Suzanne. Plan a lunch date or a spa day. Something.”

She easily agreed to the suggestion and I hoped that an afternoon of doing whatever it was girls did together would distract her. At the very least, she seemed calmer when she kissed me good-bye.

“Thanks. I owe you for this,” she vowed.

I cast her a grim smile, knowing that I’d never cash in on the favor.

As soon as I was able to shoo her out the door, I picked up the phone to get my lawyer on the line. When it came to someone like Charlie Andrews, it wouldn’t matter how much wealth or power I possessed. He wasn’t easily put off by intimidation. He was driven by his addiction, lacking all common sense. It was time to take a more drastic approach.

“Stephen, I want you and Hale in here ASAP. I have a problem that needs to be dealt with.”

I slammed the receiver down without waiting for a response. Charlie was the last person I wanted to deal with at that moment. I had a full schedule ahead of me, with two important meetings later in the afternoon that I needed to prepare for. And then there was the most pressing matter of all – finding a way to apologize to Krystina.

Her expression before she left my building was singed into my brain like I had been branded – her face so beautiful, yet full of wounded indignation. I felt a stab of guilt.

Why do I feel guilty? She’s just a girl.

A very pretty girl.

A girl whose alluring face appears in my mind without warning, disrupting all other rational thoughts. The fact that rectifying the situation with Krystina was first and foremost was unsettling.

This is ridiculous. I’ll just find a way to offer an apology and move on.

But despite what I told myself, I knew that erasing Krystina Cole from my mind wouldn’t be that easy.

CHAPTER 8

I sat at the kitchen table stirring a spoon in a bowl of cereal. It had been three days since my interview with Alexander Stone. I wasn’t naïve. I knew that he wasn’t going to call me to reschedule. It didn’t really matter. I never wanted to hear from him again anyway. I was a fool for dropping my guard, even for a moment. I was smarter than that.

During the first few days after the interview, my jealousy had kicked into over drive. Why I was jealous, I didn’t know. I certainly had no right to stake claims on the man. Yet, I had come home that day in an absolute rage and used Allyson as my sounding board. Being the best friend that she was, she shared my anger and swore profusely over and over again, calling him every name in the book.

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