One Bossy Offer (104)

“I see some things never change.” She releases an exaggerated yawn. “Really, I doubt we would have broken up if the merger hadn’t fallen through—”

“Like hell. I called it off because I knew you were nothing but a conniving, two-faced, greedy goddamned banshee. After what you did...” His voice cuts off, silenced by raw fury.

His shoulders tremble like he’s about to detonate.

Holy hell.

I’m not even listening to whatever sickening, smartassed thing Simone spews out next.

I need to get out of here.

Before I’m the one who explodes so violently I’m not sure I’ll ever pull myself together.

The big revelation here shouldn’t kill me.

I suspected it.

Deep down, I knew.

But I gave him so many chances to tell me what really happened, to explain, to help me understand why he ever fell in love with such a sinister mockery of a woman.

And he lied.

He dodged the truth, and I let him.

God, I’m such an idiot.

My head knew better, but my heart didn’t care.

I start for the door, but my ankle is still tender from the fall. My foot wobbles over the heel I’m wearing and I twist my foot again.

This really is the best day ever.

This time, my ass smacks the cold hard tile. Several baristas spin around, calling out and asking if I need help, if I need— No.

No, dammit. There’s nothing anyone can say or do or offer to help me right now.

Because ambushing Miles and being scolded by the viper he couldn’t be honest about wasn’t humiliating enough. Now, I have to fall on my face in front of both of them.

“Jenn, can you walk?”

When I look up, he’s standing over me, speaking through the fury still storming in his eyes.

Jerking my head from side to side, I peel myself up off the ground, fighting the pain just long enough to shoot out the door.

I haven’t made it two steps when I realize he’s behind me, calling “Jenn, wait! Wait, goddammit.”

I can’t.

I can’t even feel myself think.

I’m all instinct, limping away as fast as I can and hating how a drunken snail could beat this pace.

When I find a tiny side alley beside the coffee shop, I drag myself down it.

Of course, it’s a typical Seattle dead end with a rank smelling dumpster at the end.

My stomach heaves.

I have to fight down bile.

“It’s not what you think,” he says coldly as he catches up.

“How would I know that, Miles? You haven’t told me shit.”

“And you shouldn’t have interrupted,” he growls. “You have no fucking clue what you just walked into.”

My stare hardens. “Yeah? It sure looked like I walked into you and the ex you couldn’t be honest about plotting to murder each other.”

“Jenn—”

“It’s true, isn’t it? What she said? You were lovers. You lied every time I asked you.”

“She’s nothing now. Just the biggest regret of my fucked up life.”

I turn away. I can’t look at him anymore through the burning haze of tears.

“You lied about her, about—do I even want to know?” I suck in a deep breath, hating that I do. “Why, Miles? Why couldn’t you just tell me about Simone and whatever’s going on with your father?”

“She wants to kill my father, the same way she did with—” His voice booms through the alley. “When I told you to stay the fuck away from her, I had good reason, Jenn. Why couldn’t you just listen?”

I’m so confused, so hurt my brain isn’t working.

Did he mean that literally?

The snake-woman in the coffee shop is sleek and cold, yeah. But she doesn’t look like a murderer.

I also have a hard time seeing her overpowering any Cromwell man.

But Miles’ emotion is real and raw and explosive. It’s palpable on his face, the muscle twitching above one silver-blue eye.

There’s no doubting the venom in his voice.

Why couldn’t you just listen?

“I’m listening now, aren’t I?” I force out, refraining from adding jackass.

He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“I’m sorry. This shit’s coming out wrong. Years ago, she wanted a merger. She got close to me, gained my trust. She was so fucking desperate to pull a deal out of me that she dragged me off to Miami. She seduced me and shut down my phone. Pulled the battery right out sometime after we left the airport, before we even got to the hotel, and—and hell, I’ve always wondered if she drugged my drink while she was at it—all so she could convince me to sign the damn agreement she brought along. It was supposed to be our big celebration.”

He collapses against the wall, drawing a ragged breath while I wait.

“I wasn’t quite drunk enough to sign her bullshit without discussing it with my legal team, but I missed a handful of calls while my phone was disabled. All from my dad. His mind, it isn’t good—dementia, Alzheimer’s, whatever the fuck. It wasn’t then either, but back then he still had enough sense to call me when my mother collapsed.”

He pauses again.

I don’t even know what’s coming next, but I do.