Page 85 of Vicious Arrangement
I wasn’t spying, but Carrie left me a note stating to let Andre know if my wife was still under the weather Monday, as he’d make a batch of chicken soup that had some killer bone broth in it. Not as tasty as her husband’s, but good. And she’d bring in some special tea mixes.
What was it with my staff falling for my wife? Jesus.
She’s back at work now, and I hate myself for wanting to see her, to touch her. Fuck her.
“Get a fucking grip.”
I take the coffee I just made to my home office, sipping it as I go. Tomorrow’s busy, and I want a jump start on the day and the week to come.
Throwing myself deeper into work to heal things or maybe hide from them has become my motto. I know from experience hiding is almost the same as healing and a fuck ton less painful.
My laptop beeps with an alert after about half an hour of straight work. Anything marked urgent has been set to do that on my work account, so I go to that tab.
I scan the email, and my heart sinks.
Another fucking crackpot after the family money or has a story, or wants an interview… I don’t know and I don’t care. That shit’s mostly stopped, but Grandfather’s passing is bound to bring the nuts out.
Some fucking dude wants to meet me. “Good fucking luck with that, dickwad.”
And he says it’s important, which is pretty much MO for anyone who wants something from me.
Best, he says it’s about my murderous, piece of shit father.
Whatever it is, I want nothing to do with it, and I do what I usually do, I hit delete.
I go to have another sip of my coffee, but it’s gone. I don’t even remember finishing it.
“Fuck.”
I snatch up the cup and go downstairs to make some more. And as I’m waiting, I cross to the great room to straighten a cushion when I spot Aria’s phone on the coffee table.
I don’t bother trying to get into it, why would I? It’s her phone, and besides, it’ll be locked.
I’m about to take it with me and the coffee when it lights up.
And I go completely still.
Asher flashes along with a message.
The paranoia rushes in, along with that sharp, clawed jealousy.
It’s one word.Hey.
It’s so fucking weird and bland I’m instantly suspicious, and I’m sure something’s going on with them.
She’s never around, and why the fuck is he texting her the word hey? Like they’re close. Like they don’t need actual sentences.
I suck in a breath that hurts my throat as it closes over.
Something’s going on.
I can’t get it out of my head.
Asher’s also been fucking weird with me the last few times I’ve tried to catch up. First, it was work, then Asher, the single dad of the year, suddenly had other plans. Or was just busy.
And now he’s texting my wife the word hey.
Why are they both being secretive and not telling me a thing?
