Page 130 of Levi

CHAPTER31

Jules

Istifle a yawn asI reach for my mug. It’s my second latte since I got to the office. Did I mention it’s only eight o’clock in the morning? I’m a little tired after last night. What was supposed to be casual drinks, turned into a big celebration when Jace and Beckett showed up at the studio. Apparently, they received a text message from a proud Collin. Since Loki—Rod’s business partner—returned from a meeting while we were still debating where to go, we invited him to tag along. Rod invited his brother Roark to hang out with us because he’s certain he’s a potential customer. In the end, the group was getting so large—and rowdy—Shane decided to have a huge cookout at his place. He insisted I invite Sydney and Austin. It was ridiculous. Great food, great wine and incredible company. I’ve known Austin for a long time and I’ve never seen him starstruck. Then again, Random Misconception is one of his all-time favorite rock bands. Being around Rod, Jace and Beckett was a little over the top for a longtime fan. When we finally got back to Levi’s house, he had another type of celebration in mind. As if he hadn’t fucked me ten ways to Sunday, Levi woke up this morning with a raging hard-on I just had to take care of. Now, I’m paying the price. I’m not complaining, though. I enjoyed every inch of him. Honestly, my life is going so well, it’s unimaginable.

I drop my cup on the saucer, determined to shake off my sleepiness and power through my to do list. This is the final stretch leading to the big day. I knew going into it, planning a crowdfunding campaign is hard work. I just didn’t expect it would be this demanding. Thank God for Shane’s contact. No wonder Joseph Crane is a billionaire many times over.

The doorbell rings.

“I’ll get it!” Alice shouts.

Since my lapse in judgment on the night of the shooting, we triple check to make sure the front door and the back door are locked at all times.

“I’m sorry, Jules.”

I shift my eyes from my laptop to Alice’s light brown ones. The expression on her face is unreadable, but if her fidgeting fingers are anything to go by, I’m not going to like what she has to say.

My eyebrows knit together. “What is it?”

She tucks a strand of highlighted hair behind her ear, shifting nervously from one foot to the other. “A man in a suit, standing at the door—looking really official and quite standoffish—says it’s personal and I should get you.”

“Okay,” I say, getting up. “Let’s go find out what he wants.”

I trail behind Alice to the door.

The man in question is standing outside, his back facing the building.

“Good morning,” I say cautiously, opening the door.

He turns to face me.

“Good morning,” the tall bald man says, whipping his sunglasses off his face. “Jules Salinger?”

Alice is right, he looks very official.

“Yes, that’s me,” I respond.

He pulls an envelope from the inside of his suit jacket and hands it to me. “Miss Salinger, you’ve been served.”

My stomach bottoms out.

“Wh—What?” I croak. “What do you mean I’ve been served?”

“It’s all in there,” his eyes drop to the envelope.

With that, he’s gone.

“Wait!” I shout after him.

“My job here is done, Miss Salinger,” he throws over his shoulder.

I watch in shock as he slips behind the wheel of a black Ford SUV and drives off, not even bothering giving me a second glance.

I close the door and turn around, my jaw still sweeping the floor, disorienting thoughts floating in my mind.

“You’ve been served?” Alice shrieks, her eyes as wide as dinner plates.

“Apparently,” I deadpan.