Page 107 of The Husband Contract
“How many times did you say Charlotte played the lottery?”
I’m not sure where she’s going with this, but I answer anyway. “I don’t know how many times she played, but she won twice. Why?”
“Remember when she ‘won the lottery the first time, we were both shocked?”
“Yeah, because I didn’t even know she was playing.” I pause. “Wait, you don’t think shewonthe lottery?”
She lifts a skeptical eyebrow. “I mean, what are the chances she’d win millions twice and we wouldn’t hear about it in the news?”
“She said she wanted to be anonymous.”
“Yeah, that’s what shesaid.But what’s the more likely story?”
“Oh, I didn’t even think about that.” I feel sick to my stomach. “So Charlotte set me up. She was in on it for the money?”
“Girl, I think she put this whole thing together.”
I’m reeling from her words, unable to figure out what this means and where to go from here.
“What should I do? What dowedo?”
She lets out a huff. “Well, we can’t let her get away with it.”
“I know, but I don’t even know where to go. This is our livelihood. We have no other jobs.” My phone starts ringing then, and I glance at the screen.
“It’s Sebastian,” I say and my heart jumps. “He has a knack for knowing the worst time to call.”
“Are you going to answer it?”
“I don’t know. I don’t really want to talk to him.”
“He might know about Charlotte and have a plan. You can’t stand him, but maybe you both have a joint enemy.” She gives me a grim smile. “We don’t have the means to do anything here, Willow, buthedoes.”
I know she’s right.
“I don’t want to see him again,” I utter, pain bleeding into my words.
“You don’t have to see him again. Justworkwith him. Work with him to get Charlotte back. He loves revenge, right?”
The man practically lives for it. I got to witness it firsthand.
“Fine.” I answer the phone and steel my spine. “Is there something you want, Sebastian?” My tone so cold it could freeze fire in hell.
There’s a beat of silence before he finally responds.
“Why, hello. It’s nice to hear your voice as well.”
“I would say it’sniceto hear yours,” I spit out, “but I don’t like to lie.”
There’s another drawn out pause on the line and I’m glad that I’m getting to him.
“Are you going to speak, or should I just hang up?” I ask with a bite of impatience. “Because I’m working and I don’t have time to be on the phone all day.”
“You’re still mad at me.” His voice is ragged and tense as if he’s distressed.
Good. I hope he’s miserable.
“It’s been two days, Sebastian,” I say through gritted teeth. “Yes, I’m still mad at you. What did you think was going to happen in two days?”
