Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 109777 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109777 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
“I know,” Hope murmured. “The only thing I can think is that Edgar had something on Prentice. But I don’t know what it could be.”
I let out a breath in relief. It made things easier if Hope and I were on the same page. “Considering who we’re dealing with, it could be anything.”
Hope nodded in agreement. I didn’t want to be harsh with her, but Prentice and Edgar hadn’t left us much choice.
“I want to trust you, Hope, but I can’t do that if you’ve got a foot in both camps. You have to choose, me or Edgar.”
“I know,” she agreed. I waited. I knew what I wanted. I didn’t know how hard I’d have to fight to get it. It turned out, not hard at all. “I’m going to tell Edgar I can’t work for him anymore. I have some money saved up. I can get by for a while, especially if I’m not paying rent—”
I sliced a hand through the air, cutting her off. “I’m offering you a job Hope, not asking you to work for free. What was Edgar paying you?”
She named a number that had me wincing. No wonder she lived in this tiny apartment. What the hell was Edgar thinking? Never mind, I knew exactly what he was thinking.
Just as I’d thought, he paid her just enough so she could live but not enough for her to have any real freedom. Biting back everything I wanted to say about her uncle, I said, “I’ll double it.”
“Double it? Griffen, I can’t ask you to—”
“You didn’t ask. That’s what our office manager makes at Sinclair Security and she earns every penny. I have no doubt you will, too. I’ve been paying attention. You know way more about Sawyer Enterprises than I do. I can’t do this without you. I’m not going to take advantage of you to get your help.”
“Griffen, after everything that happened before—”
I shook my head, feeling my jaw clench tight. Forcing my mouth open, I spit out, “If you say you owe me one more time, I swear to God—I don’t want to hear that from you again. You don’t owe me anything. Maybe you did, but my father hijacking five years of your life more than makes up for anything you did over a decade ago. I’ll take advantage of your help because I need it, but I won’t do it for free.”
Her eyes wide, Hope must have decided it wasn’t worth arguing with me. “Okay,” she said quietly.
“Who’s your landlord?” I demanded in what seemed like a change of subject.
Hope let out a strangled little laugh. “You are, as soon as you sign whatever papers Harvey has for you.”
“Good, then we don’t have to worry about the lease. If you can get your personal things packed, I’ll have Savannah arrange for the rest to be moved to Heartstone.”
“Okay,” Hope agreed, taking a quick sip of coffee, her eyes still wide. She was looking a little shell-shocked.
“Are you worried Edgar is going to make things difficult?” I asked, trying to figure out what had her so thrown.
“I don’t know.” She sounded dazed.
“I’ll tell Edgar if you want me to,” I offered.
Hope shook her head. “No, I’ll do it. We better get going.”
She stood. I followed as she took her coffee cup to the sink, so close her scent wreathed me, sweet and warm, apples and spice. When she was a girl she’d always smelled like cinnamon and dirt. An odd combination, but it fit a little girl who’d loved to curl up under a tree with a good book or bury herself in the kitchen to bake cookies.
She still smelled of cinnamon, but there was nothing childish about that scent. It was spice and heat and woman. I wanted to stick my nose in the hollow of her throat and follow the traces of cinnamon down between her breasts, to feel the weight of them against my cheeks as I tasted to see if she was as sweet as she looked.
Remembering the hesitation in her kiss, I had the feeling I’d give her a stroke if I did. Instead, I said, “I need to take a shower before we go.”
Her eyes everywhere but my bare chest, she fled from the kitchen, saying over her shoulder, “Let me just grab some stuff out of the bathroom and it’s all yours.”
I followed her through the living room, waiting while she gathered her things. She was quick, ducking out through the doorway a minute later carrying a brush and a pile of hairpins in one hand. In the other was a red wool dress flowing from the hanger like a banner in the wind. Red as flame, it had 3/4 sleeves that ended in a bell, tiny buttons up the front, and a narrow skirt that flared at the bottom.