Page 6

CHAPTER SIX

JULIET

Paige is a godsend.

Really. I have never been more grateful for her lack of shits to give—her words—and her general distaste for men who push their weight around.

I don’t know what I would have done if it had been my day to be on desk duty. As it is, my secondhand embarrassment has me wishing the ground would open and swallow me whole.

This man’s audacity blows me away.

Today is not the first day Ford has called the office trying to get information about me. He’s called every day for the last week. Each time, he’s politely reminded of the anonymity policy in place to protect the women working here.

I’m sure he thought today would be the same. Unfortunately, he’s finding out the hard way it’s Paige’s turn to man the phones. And there’s nothing polite about the way she’s handing him his ass in a handbag. Lucky for me, she’s doing it on speakerphone.

“Please.” Ford sighs, the frustration in his voice palpable. “I just need to talk to her.”

“Said every toxicex-boyfriend ever.” Paige dramatically lolls her head to the side and rolls her eyes. She liftsher hand, clapping the pads of her thumb and fingers together, mimicking a mouth talking.

I can’t help the laugh that bubbles instantly from me. She knows damn well she’s pushing his buttons, but when she gets going like this, there’s no stopping her.

“I’m not—can you please just have her call me?”

“I wouldn’t hold your breath, bat boy. Or maybe do.” She slams her hand on the button to end the call and sticks her tongue out.

“Very mature.”

“Eh.” She shrugs her shoulders. “You love me.”

My heart swells. “I really do.”

Paige spins around in her swivel chair and catches herself, palms flat on the desk in front of her. She trains her gaze on the phone again like she’s waiting for it to ring—begging for round two. When it doesn’t make a sound, she glances my way, all traces of playfulness gone from her expression.

“You know I’m always on your side, right?”

“Yes.” My voice is steady despite the alarm bells going off in my head. “Why do I get the feeling there’s a but coming?”

Paige brings her hands together, twisting her fingers together like she’s afraid of how I’m going to take what she’s about to say next.

I just need her to spit it out already.

“I was just thinking—and maybe it’s a terrible idea—but maybe we should hear Ford out.”

My head jerks back, and my mouth falls open. She can’t be serious. “And why would we do that? Weren’t you the one who basically just told him he could go kick rocks?”

“I did. And I’ll do it every day until forever because you’re my best friend.” She reaches out her hand and places it on top of where mine sits on my thigh. “But because you’re my best friend, I feel like I should also bring up that he might be able to help you.”

“No,” I snap, snatching my hand to my chest. “Absolutely not. Call it self-preservation. Or maybe it’s pure stubborn spite. But I will never put myself in the situation to depend on a man again.”

“I know but?—”

“No.” My lip trembles, but my words have the strength of a brick wall. “I’ll find another way. I’ll clean more or pick up more hours at the bar, but I will never put myself in that situation again.”

That she’d even suggest it pisses me off. Paige is the only one who knows the whole story. She saw me when I was at my lowest and stuck around. She picked up the pieces Tyler left behind.

After the crash, I was a mess. I didn’t know up from down or what I was supposed to do without him. I didn’t want him back. I still don’t. My life was so dependent on Tyler and his rules that I didn’t know who I was anymore. The idea of being my own person—waking up every day and making my own decisions—terrified me.

It still does. And that was before Saul’s guys showed up, demanding the debt Tyler owed them. Before they threatened to ruin everyone I love if I didn’t produce the money.

Now I’m tangled up in Tyler’s web of lies and deceit while trying to figure out where I go from here. I love that I have Paige at my side, but I have no issue walking away if she presses this.

Paige moves slowly, like she’s afraid I’m a flight risk. She offers me her hand.

I contemplate taking it for a split second, before immediately entwining my fingers with hers.

A sigh of relief escapes her, followed by a string of apologies. There’s regret in her eyes, but not an ounce of pity.

It’s exactly what I need from her to solidify that she means it when she says she’s on my side. “I know you’re just trying to help.”

“I am.” She nods and gives my hand a gentle squeeze. “But that doesn’t mean it was the right thing to say. I just…I wish I could help.”

“I know,” I say, returning the gesture. “But as it is, I hate that they can connect me to you.”

She has been there more than once when one of Saul’s cronies shows up to collect. Not only that, but even though there’s no public record of me working here, they know. I’d be na?ve to think they haven’t figured out who Paige is.

“ That I won’t apologize for.” Hard lines crease her brow. “I might not be able to help get you out of the situation, but there isn’t a single part of me that isn’t happy to bear witness to your fucked up life and remind you that you are more than your experiences.” She pulls her hand from mine and grabs the folder for my next client off the desk. “You’re Etta fucking Cruz and even though you’re stubborn as shit, you’re going to make it past this. And I’m going to be by your side. Plus.” She leans in close and whispers. “If they decide to kill you in some kind of mafia-esque hit, someone has to know where to start looking for the body.”

I snatch the file from her hands and chuckle. “Morbid.”

“I know.” She gives me a stoic grin, hand pressed across her chest. “But someone has to bear the burden.”

“You’ve been listening to too many true crime podcasts.”

“What can I say?” She shrugs, her wild red curls bouncing on her shoulders. “I’m intrigued by the morally gray.”

“And yet you’re engaged to a doctor.”

“Maybe he’s a doctor by day and a plastic surgeon for the cartel by night.”

“I cannot with you.” I shake my head and flip through the file, mentally calculating that if I do this cleaning and pick up a few more hours at the bar tonight, I can make up for what I lost from the Row. All together, it should be enough to make my next payment.

With a game plan in mind, I close the file and push back my chair, standing. I give Paige a mock salute. “And on that note, I’m off.”

“Hey,” she hollers before the door clicks behind me. “Don’t knock the morally gray until you try it.”

I don’t bother responding. We both know her fiancé wouldn’t hurt a fly, let alone be attached to the cartel. Plus, even if she’s right,I’ve had enough of questionable men for one lifetime.