Page 116 of Perfect Assumption
“Seriously?” My heart begins to pound in excitement. Then I tease, “Be careful, Ward. This is another milestone in this journey we’re traveling on.”
“I’m willing to risk it. Do you have someone who can feed Flower?”
I nod before confiding, “I think she likes the sitter more than me.”
“Why?”
“The sitter leaves her cell phone in the car.”
We both snicker. “So then it’s settled. Tonight, your place. I’ll pack my things up to get them ready to move back. Tomorrow, we’ll both head to my home.”
“To luxuriate in those three, no, four rooms you use.”
“Angie, for you I might branch out to five.”
We’re grinning at each other like lunatics when Carys comes out with a confused expression on her face. “Angie, why did we change the date on the contract to be two months from now?”
Spinning out of Ward’s arms, I explain, “Because the recording label said they refuse to sign until the artist is out of rehab. I have notes from the meeting, but we’re responsible for drawing up a short-term contract to cover their medical until that date.”
She snaps her fingers. “That’s right. I don’t know what I would do if I didn’t have you here.” She disappears behind the heavy wood doors.
“Me neither,” Ward whispers into my ear, sending shivers down my spine.
“Then it’s a good thing you won’t have to find out, isn’t it?”
He winks before heading back to work himself. And I send Carys a reminder to draft the second contract.
Then I make a list of all the things I’ll need for the weekend at Ward’s before I call my cat sitter.
Forty-Four
Ward
Ward Burke and Angela Fahey.
She’s the gorgeous redhead. Mystery solved, although everyone here is still in shock over the photo that was emailed to us.
For those who don’t remember, Ms. Fahey is the woman who accused XMedia’s newest board member, Michael Clarke, of sexual harassment during their college years. As he’s been a lifelong friend of Ward Burke’s, their relationship is simply astounding. But we say let bygones be bygones. For Ward and Angela to find such obvious happiness, it’s obvious past hurts must have been set aside.
— StellaNova
We fall into my condo laughing. I had my car picked up and the items transferred earlier in the day so I could assist Angie with her bag. And so she could get the impact of my condo when she enters it for the first time.
It isn’t until Angie’s eyes widen that I understand why my father would have done anything to appease my mother raising her children as “normal” kids. Having enough money to support families for years means nothing without the right woman at your side.
And Angela Fahey is that woman.
She steps up to one of my prized Holly Freeman photos, her flame-colored hair cascading over her shoulder as she studies the grit and grime of New York City. Her finger taps against her chin as her head takes in the soulless space it’s opposite of.
“What are you thinking?” I can’t help but ask.
“There’s more of you here than you think—decadence and grit entwined together to form a storm of vulnerability.”
She’s shaken me to my core with that observation.
I wrap my arms around her from behind and inhale her essence. “There are times I miss my family more than others. This is one of them.”
Twisting until she faces me, she asks, “Why?”
