Page 149 of Invisible String
We just drove backfrom Utah two hours ago. I dropped Xander at his place, then went home. Rainey was already gone for work. Once I showered, I went to the bakery to check on how everything was going. It seems Leo and my assistants have been keeping everything in place.
“Where are you going?” Leo calls out, standing at the foot of my office door.
“I need to go see my girl and run an errand.”
“I had coffee with Rainey the other day,” he says nonchalantly.
I lift my head from the stack of paperwork with a raised brow. “You did?”
“Don’t get so jealous, although we could be family soon.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “What are you talking about?”
“While we were chatting—by the way, I love Rainey. I can see why you’re so protective of her. Anyway, her sister FaceTimed. Fuck, she’s beautiful. Rainey introduced me. She kept her eyes on me, more like eye fucking me. The crazy part is that she’s dating some dude. He came home from work and said hi to Rainey. He seems like a stuck-up snob.”
My brows are skyrocketing. Leo’s into Rainey’s sister? He has a dreamy look on his face.
“Oh,” he adds. “Rainey was like, he has such a hot accent. She whispered it to her sister.”
Hot accent.
My jaw clenches with jealousy. Do I need to fuck her in a what is it…a French accent?For God’s sake, Max, get a hold of yourself.
“You’re crinkling the papers. We need those.” Leo groans. “I know how you feel. Do you think we should end him?” He gestures to his neck.
“No,” I say, straightening out the papers. “Rainey is my woman. You’ll have to get over the sister.”
I walk past him, rushing out the door. Before I see Rainey, I need to stop at her fucked-up father’s office. Let’s hope I don’t run into Andrew. I’ll have his head up his ass. I can’t stand that motherfucker.
The attorney’soffice buzzes with activity, resembling an anthill in full preparation for winter. Associates scurry between cubicles, each dressed in crisp, tailored suits, their polished shoes tapping rhythmically against the hardwood floors. Legal assistants huddle over stacks of documents, their fingers flying over keyboards, while paralegals shuffle through files.
It must suck to work here.
“Sir, can I help you?” a woman asks, staring up at me with wide eyes. “Are you Master of Disaster? Max Cano?”
I nod. “I am. I’m here to see Rowan Collins.”
“My husband is a fan.”
“Great. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to Rowan’s office.”
She stumbles out of her chair. “Sir, you can’t do that.”
“I’ll get your husband tickets if you keep quiet.”
That shuts her up. She nods, and I turn, walking toward Rowan’s large office. It’s tucked far down the hall.
“You’re beautiful, darlin’,” a male voice says on the other side of the door. It has to be Rowan. Who else? “We need to keep hiding.”
“Why? She’s dead,” a woman’s voice rasps.
“Don’t talk about my wife like that. I know she’s gone, and you know I loved you both. I had to hide from my kids. I’m a selfish man. I needed you both.”
What a bastard. This must be the same woman he had had an affair with all these years.
“I can’t do this anymore, Ro. I love you. I divorced my husband for you. I want a life with you.”
Poor stupid bitch. She ruined a marriage and her own for this asshole.
