Page 29 of Perfect Assumption

“Ward…”

“Shh. Not now. Later. Right now, we have to go defend someone who can’t defend themselves.”

Angie’s eyes blaze. I hold the door open. “After you.”

She crosses the threshold like her world has been shaken on its axis.

I can only hope so.

Twelve

Angela

Why was the mouthwatering Beckett Miller in such a rush out of Redemption last night? He blew past this reporter without his normally generous smile and wink. There wasn’t time to do more than admire him as he walked away. Though that’s mighty fine indeed.

— Sexy&Social, All the Scandal You Can Handle

After dealing with Erzulie’s chaos until the wee hours of Saturday, I didn’t have a chance to speak with Ward before I was pushed into a car to drive me home from the office with a written guarantee from StellaNova we’d have a retraction the next day. I think I might have drooled as I slept in the back of the town car. Flower’s lucky I remembered to feed her before I fell face-first onto my bed.

I did manage to get a call into Sula where I thought I’d lost my hearing after. “Hekissedyou!”

“Sula, it was…”

“What? Tell me everything.”

I recount the difference in Ward’s behavior the last few weeks. “I’m afraid,” I blurt out.

“Oh, love, I’d be worried if you weren’t.”

“You would?” I’m poleaxed by that.

“Angie, you were dragged through hell. You went through something you should never have experienced. And despite your protests, I still hold a hell of a lot of guilt over it.”

“You’re not the one who slipped me that drug,” I explain quietly.

“No, but I’m the one who convinced you we should go to that party.”

We’re both silent for a long moment while the aftermath of that fateful night filters through each of our minds. Then Sula declares, “You deserve the world. I hope you realize that. But more than that, Ward Burke had better realize it. I don’t care how much money he has or how hot he is. If he doesn’t, he’s going to have to deal with me.”

My heart overflows with love for my best friend. “I know you have my back.”

“And your front. I may be short, but I can protect something. I’m feisty.”

My lips curve. “I don’t doubt you for a second. Now, tell me all about Ireland.”

I thank God for internet calling as we spend several hours catching up on all things that are happening in both our worlds. We end the conversation with a discussion about what I should wear to the office on Monday. “The black suit. It’s the nicest thing you own. And no arguments—we’re going shopping the next time I’m in town.”

“Who said I was arguing?” I disconnect on her squawking.

Maybe it’s time for me to stop allowing the pain of my past to rule my present. I was hurt, but I picked myself up. Wandering over to a picture of my grandparents, I pick it up and vow, “I always assumed I was supposed to pay for what happened to me. But you were right. I’ve healed, and I realize I’m stronger. I just don’t know how far that extends.”

With a click, I place the frame back down and move away to finish up preparing for the week.

Monday rolls around quicker than I’d like. I’m sitting at my desk when the door to LLF flies open to reveal Becks. “I should be shocked you’re here, but I’m not. What happened this time?” I tease him.

“I need to see Carys. Right away.”

I roll my eyes. “What else is new? Carys is swamped today, Becks. And I honestly have no idea where Ward is.”