Page 16 of Perfect Assumption
“Not for much longer.” We both laughed hysterically because we both knew what was going to happen later on that day if Carys’s plans worked out the way she masterminded. And as my sister has proven over the years, she’s a dynamo at making plans. “Enjoy your Valentine’s Day, sweetheart.”
She gave a noncommittal sound as she knew the man she planned on tormenting was watching us both. I strolled past, trying not to give away the game, closing the door between Carys’s inner sanctum and the outer office before a chuckle escaped.
And I stilled when I saw her again.
Wild red hair tumbling everywhere. Bright blue eyes that snapped in my direction even as she juggled another phone call. She’s my sister’s angel and the devil who invades my dreams when I sleep. And according to Carys, she leaves every single night to go home to “her family. She’s the most dedicated woman I know, Ward. But if you’re asking me to tell you if there’s someone in her life, well, that’s a conversation you need to have with her. All I’m saying is don’t put the spotlight around her. She’s vulnerable.” Carys hesitated when I asked. So, I took it for the warning it was—Angie wasn’t meant for the life we were thrust into.
Angela Fahey. LLF’s office gatekeeper, lion tamer, and quite possibly the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen in my life. And she’s completely off-limits. With a brusque nod, I somehow moved past her and toward the glass door. But I managed to get myself together enough to call, “You too,” over my shoulder when she wished me a Happy Valentine’s Day.
Every damn day I have walk past her quickly and constrain myself to a barely civil “hello” or “good night.” Whereas Beckett Fucking Miller gets to drape himself all over her desk and call her “beauty.”
Not that she isn’t one. God, she might be the most exquisite woman I’ve ever seen. But how can Carys warn me off but allow her ex-boyfriend to… I whirl away from the ledge of my balcony, remembering the voicemail I received a few minutes ago.
Hey. If you’re not busy, Angie and Becks are joining us for dinner tonight. Stop by. I’m cooking lasagne.
Is she kidding me?
If I wasn’t constantly tripping over Angie and Beckett together, I wouldn’t have realized they were an item. Despite the gossip about him, even I know Becks can’t possibly be with that many women at one time. He’d have a damn heart attack.
That being said, he’s no choirboy. “Neither are you, Burke,” I admit aloud. But why would Carys allow her precious Angie to be with a man so notorious, we trip over him daily to defend new defamation charges against him? Yet, I’m not good enough. I rub the ache in my chest as I step back into my living space. I begin to compare myself against Beckett Miller.
We’re both good-looking, albeit in very different ways. We’re both wealthy, as in buy a small country kind of ways. Both educated, though many people don’t know that about Becks. There’s only one major distinction between the two of us.
I’m the one who killed our parents.
I have to find out if that’s the real reason she warned me away from her precious Angie. Nauseous, I pull my cell out of my pocket and dial my sister’s cell.
She greets me cheerfully. “Hey! Are you coming over? I can save you some.”
I don’t bother responding. “Is the reason you encouraged Angie and Becks’s relationship because you hate me because of Mom and Dad?”
Her whispered “What?” is horrified. I hear David ask what’s wrong in the background.
I slur, “S’okay, Carrie. Get it. Warned me. Mistakes. Because I was selfish.”
“Ward, no. You have it all wrong.”
I hang up.
I don’t have it wrong. I haven’t made a single mistake since I found my whole family destroyed because I made the wrong choice.
Seven
Angela
Conversation starter: Name two celebrities who would make the cutest babies that aren’t currently together. And go!
— Viego Martinez, Celebrity Blogger
“Is everything all right?” I ask Carys tentatively. She’s standing in the kitchen, holding her phone to her ear. David’s holding a sleeping Ben in his lap. Becks has just entered the room with our jackets.
She jerks herself from her inner thoughts. “Fine. Just fine. Are you sureyou’reokay?”
After the dinner we had, I know I have my friends at my back. “I’m going to be fine.” I wrap my arms around her tightly. Carys’s body bucks a bit when I whisper, “Thank you.”
During dinner, we reminisced about some of the more intriguing places we’ve been directed to by Carys to check out the artists we eventually took on as clients. “What about the time I sent you to the bowling alley near your grandparents’ house! Oh, God. Do you remember me asking you to do that when I was out on maternity leave?” Carys couldn’t catch her breath, she was laughing so hard.
Becks calmly reached over and smacked her between the shoulders since David was feeding Ben. I grinned before answering, “Yes. Now aren’t you glad you asked me to go?”
