Page 20 of Saving Soul
“This is a pretty elaborate scheme to see me again.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. “Trust me. I had no plans of seeing you again.” I turned slowly, forcing myself to meet his tapered gaze. “If I’d had any idea, I wouldn’t have taken the job.”
His ice-blue stare was void of warmth. “Then it will be easy for you to quit.”
“What?” My head jerked backward. “I can’t. I need this job.”
“Then I’ll have you fired.”
“You’re not my boss,” I spat back.
He pursed his lips as his tongue rolled around his cheeks.
“Look, just let me do my job and I’ll stay out of your way.”
“Your job?” Adam stepped closer, entering my personal space and out of Liam’s ear shot. “Making money off my grandfather’s death is not a job. It’s a scam. People like you disgust me.”
Fury surged through my body. “How dare you! You know nothing about me.”
“Oh…I know you.” He drew his arm above my head until my back pressed against the door. “I know you’re a liar and a cheater.” He ran his knuckle down my arm and over my hand until my wedding ring rested between his fingers. “I bet your husband doesn’t know what we did.”
My eyelashes fluttered as I tried to regain control. “You’re right.” I lifted my chin as a tear tracked down my cheek. “He doesn’t.”
“That’s what I thought.”
My fingers curled into a tiny fist as I stifled the desire to punch his smug mouth. “Because he’s been dead for four years.”
As Adam’s shoulders fell, I spun around and opened my bedroom door. “Enjoy your visit with you grandfather,” I uttered, before slamming it on his arrogant, ignorant, and ridiculously beautiful face.
5
It was supposed to be simple. Help an elderly man live his last days on his terms, then head home to live the rest of my days on mine. But my life was never simple, and if the universe had a plan for me, it was a cruel one.
After my grandmother passed away from cancer, my sister and I were sent back to live with my father in upstate New York. Amy adjusted well, but I hated it. The day I turned eighteen, I caught a bus back to LA with no money or plans, only enduring optimism that things would work out. And they did.Sort of.
Dominic swept me off my feet the moment he walked into the café I was working at. He was a complete gentleman, handsome, sweet, and treated me right. He had a house in the Valley, a good job, and could offer me the stability I craved. Within a year, I was pregnant and walking down the aisle with my first love. It was a fairy-tale. Only the ending was far from happy.
Finn was only four when Dominic got sick. Five when he could no longer work. And six when he could no longer function. Motor Neurons Disease stole my husband and the father of my child in three heartbreaking years.
After Dominic lost his job, we lost our health insurance, and when I lost my husband, I was left with the astronomical medical bills. I had to sell our home and move back to my father’s just to pay off a portion of the debt we owed, and once this job was over, my debt would finally be cleared.
And now this!
Ramming my head into the pillow, I cursed myself for being so careless. Adam must’ve thought I was a complete slut, letting him consume me for an entire night. The one fucking night I decided to free my inhibitions and have a good time.What were the fucking chances?!
I never thought I’d see him again. Sure, I may have dreamt about it, but the fantasy never panned out like this. Adam wasn’t supposed to have a name or a backstory. He was simply the hot suit who fucked me senseless after a shitty job interview. That was it. An old-fashioned, no-complication, no-expectation, one-night stand. Now, I was left to endure his presence every other weekend.The universe can eat a dick.
Although it was easy to avoid Adam in the vast grounds of Harlow Manor, I planned to stay in my room until he left on Monday morning—that was, until my phone chimed.
Wallace (Harlow Manor Driver): Your ride awaits.
Fuck.I’d totally spaced on my trip to the beach. It was the only outing I was going to allow myself during my stay, mostly because it cost nothing, but also because it would help me recharge. With the unstable energy I was likely to absorb over the next few months, I was going to need it.
Me: Thanks. I’ll be down in a minute.
Throwing my cell into my tote, I raced over to my crystal-covered desk and gathered them up, including the hand-woven bracelets intertwined with gemstones. My grandmother had made them for me as she succumbed to cancer.
After checking the hallway for movement, I bolted for the stairs. During my ninja-like decent, William Harlow’s voice soared up the staircase from the drawing room, and I froze. Although, he wasn’t talking to me.
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