Page 7 of First Comes Revenge

“Well, shit,” I say softly. On the one hand,score.Maybe I’m an asshole for internally celebrating her impending breakup, but I also know Vaughn Vanderlesh. That guy is scum. She’s better off. On the other hand, her connection to a business rival makes me feel like I’ve just been handed a puzzle piece. I don’t know where it fits, yet, but I’m sure there’s a place. There’s a way to take advantage of this. “How the hell did Vaughn land a girl like you?”

“Maybe I was the only one dumb enough to fall for his obvious tricks?”

The look on her face tells me that’s a deeper question than I realized. So much passes over her expression in a few silent moments. Eventually, she just lets out a soft breath and gives me a scrap of the truth. “I always believed him,” she says simply.

I nod. There’s more to it. Plenty more, but I don’t press her for it. Something happened back there and they are breaking up now. As some asshole who just barged in on her private moment, maybe that’s all I deserve to know for now.

I sit down beside her, giving her a respectful foot or two of personal space. “Want me to get him back for you?” I ask.

She looks up sharply. “What?”

I grin, then shrug. “Just say the word. I’ve always hated that little prick. He’s the son of our biggest rival. I don’t really need an excuse to make his life a little shittier, but I’ll take one if you’re offering.”

She shakes her head, looking sad. “No, it’s okay. My big brother, Troy, is already hard enough to keep under control as it is. When he finds out about this, it’s going to take all my effort to keep him from beating Vaughn up.”

“Oh, I wasn’t talking about violence. I’m more of a backstabber than a front-puncher.”

That earns me a laugh from her. “Can’t say I’ve heard that one before. But, no, thank you for offering to backstab my soon-to-be ex. I don’t really want payback. I just want to move on with my life.”

I nod, waiting. Despite what people probably think about me, I can be thoughtful and considerate. Right now, she’s not looking for a solution. Her world just got turned upside down. She needs a little bit of an open ear, and a little bit of a distraction. I’ll be happy to offer both.

She lets out a breath. “I’ve always thought seeing the best in people was a good quality. I wasproudof that. And now I’m just sitting here wondering if I’ve been stupid all along for being so trusting. Look where it got me, right?”

“Nah,” I say. “I don’t think it makes you stupid. Trust is kind of the whole point, isn’t it? You put your neck on the chopping block, hand someone an axe, and wait to see if they deserve your trust. Kind of insane, if you ask me, but the whole world is playing the game.”

“Let me guess, relationships are a game you don’t play? How is that working for you?”

“Hey, now. We were talking about your problems, not mine. I prefer to maintain a healthy level of mystery.”

She smirks. “A man of mystery, huh?

“That’s right. Women love a little mystery.”

“Right now, I’m kind of thinking mysteries are overrated. Give me a man who is open and honest over one who hides things. Actually, don’t give me a man at all. I think life would be better if I went on a dating hiatus. I can just focus on getting my book published. No distractions.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Your book?” I ask. Suddenly that little puzzle piece she handed me is taking shape. I think I might know exactly how it fits.

“Um, yeah. I still need to do a final round of edits. But I did finish a book. That’s part of what I came here to do. I wanted to pitch it to publishers.”

“You were dating the son of Landmark Publishing’s CEO. Did you try asking him?”

“No,” she says. “I didn’t want to take advantage of him. I was going to pitch it to some agents from Landmark and not tell them I was dating Vaughn. Now I’m guessing there’s no point. Once I end things, he would probably shut the book down even if I did get someone to agree to pitch it up the chain.”

“Pitch it to me,” I say.

She laughs, then her face goes serious. “Wait, really? Right now?”

“Sure. Do you have a sample I can read on your phone or something?”

She digs in her bag and produces a massive stack of printed papers. I laugh. “Printed manuscript? Nice.”

“It’s not finished with edits,” she warns. She’s clutching it to her chest like she isn’t sure if she really wants to hand it to me.

“Got it. Needs polish.”

“Are you going to just like… read it right now?”

“I’ll read the first chapter or two, just like I would if you submitted it to me formally.”

---