Page 68 of Perfect Assumption
Ward flushes. “It’s not like I ask for it.”
Becks slaps him on the shoulder. “None of us do. You’ll do well to remember that.” He and Carys exchange a complicated look before Becks announces, “And since there’s no time for fun here today, I suppose I should head to the financier.”
“What? You mean someone’s actually doing something with your gobs of money other than throwing parties where no one wore anything but Cristal?” I prop my head on my chin, awaiting his response.
Becks saunters back. “Your information is totally off.”
“Really?” Carys’s voice is dry.
“Yes. It was Jack Daniels. And I wasn’t there.” And with that, Becks flings open our doors and saunters out.
The three of us wait until the doors close completely shut before we all burst out into laughter. “Did that really happen? I thought that story had to be complete rock lore,” Ward asks.
I nod. “It’s a complete nightmare. His place is trashed.”
“But he’s smiling like he just struck gold.” Ward’s confusion is obvious.
Carys sighs. “Let’s be grateful for the small favors, shall we? And yes, it’s true. I try to ignore as many stories about Becks as I can, but even I can’t deny the noise ordinance charges I’m having to defend him on. I swear, half of Manhattan was at his home.”
“And Becks was nowhere near there,” I reiterate.
“Are you serious?” Ward’s incredulous.
“Completely. He was down south visiting some family. He came back to find his whole place had been trashed. I thought Carys was going to have to find him a capital defense attorney, but nope. He’s smiling.”
“So did I. Oh, well. It’s back to the grind.”
The whistle Ward lets out when it’s just the two of us is long and low. My eyes crinkle at the corners. “I know. It’s been a crazy few days.”
“No, that was because I didn’t realize you have to sift through all that crap about our clients every single day. That takes an incredible amount of fortitude.”
“No more than being the one on the other side of the camera.”
“An interesting theory, Ms. Fahey. Would you like to talk about it more over lunch?”
“Lunch?” I parrot.
“It’s the midday meal” is his quick riposte.
I want to say yes with every fiber of my being. Some of that must show on my face because Ward urges me, “Say yes, and I promise it will just be us, Angie. No cameras.”
“You can’t guarantee that.” But my voice caves before I nod my assent.
His smile is mysterious. “Watch me. I’ll pick you up at one if that works.”
I quickly scan my calendar. “It’s perfect.”
“This will be too. I’ll see you then.”
* * *
A few minutes to one,Ward appears at my desk. He grabs his coat and mine. When I reach for my purse, he says, “You won’t need it.”
“But I need my coat?”
“We’ll be outside for a few minutes” is the only clue he’ll provide me.
He holds out his hand, and it’s remarkably easy to slip my hand into his. Sula’s words from last night whisper through my mind as his fingers tighten on mine briefly.No matter what, everything is going to change.My heart is pounding, but that has everything to do with Ward and nothing to do with what Michael and Stephen did to me that long-ago night at that party.
