Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25568 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 128(@200wpm)___ 102(@250wpm)___ 85(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25568 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 128(@200wpm)___ 102(@250wpm)___ 85(@300wpm)
Landon has always had a good heart, but since meeting Piper, he seems to look at life differently. He’s told us some of her backstory, and I can see why he’s got more sympathy for women in trouble, but that’s not the case with this contract. Her family comes from money too, so I’m sure it’s an arrangement of powers combining and nothing more.
“I’ll handle it,” I say, and Landon nods.
“I never doubted you.”
“At least you don’t have to see Gamer,” Spencer adds while I grab my laptop and a copy of the prenup.
“Small miracles,” I say, but before I walk out of the office, Landon chimes in.
“He’s invited us to the wedding.”
“I’m busy,” I call over my shoulder, not bothering to pretend I’ll be there.
As I’m coming out of the office space that Spencer and Landon and I share, I almost run into Scout. “Oh, I was on my way to get you,” she says. “Miss Brown is in your office.”
“My office? Why not the conference room?”
“She, um, has her mother with her,” Scout whispers. “I thought it might be best to give her some privacy.”
“I see.” I check my watch. “Give me ten minutes and then come and interrupt me. This won’t take long.”
“Will do,” she says and heads back to the front.
I pass by the conference room and glance in to see our paralegal Judith talking with who I assume is Emerson Brown’s mother. Judith should be able to keep her distracted long enough for me to get this signed and off my desk.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, Miss Brown, but—” I stop talking when a young woman stands up from the chair in front of my desk and turns to face me.
Eyes the color of a storm in the middle of an ocean lock with mine, and I stumble a step backwards. It’s like I’ve been physically hit and I have to catch my balance.
“Sorry,” I mutter as I walk toward her and extend my hand.
“I haven’t been here long.” Her voice is soft and sweet, and it matches her soft and sweet exterior. What doesn’t match is her handshake and how firm it is.
It’s at odds with how slight she is, and it surprises me so much I smile at her. “Quite the grip.”
“Oh no.” She drops my hand quickly, and her cheeks flush the prettiest pink.
I’m rattled by the loss of contact and how much she’s disrupted my behavior in a matter of seconds. “Please sit.”
I force myself not to look at her as I walk around my desk and sit down. I’ve got to put some distance between us and maybe get my blood pressure checked. I’m probably coming down with a cold, that’s all.
“So Game—” I clear my throat and start again. “Mr. Merritt has asked us to prepare his prenuptial agreement for your upcoming wedding.”
“That’s what I’m told.”
I look up from my desk, and her stormy gray eyes look sad and resigned. It’s not my job to care, and it’s not my business to ask why. I’m here to get her to sign a contract and nothing more. She’s probably sad because Gamer is a cheating fuck-face, but I’m not getting paid to find out.
“And you’ve read through it?” I ask, going back to the document and forcing myself to be professional.
“I’m sure my mother has.” This time she doesn’t look sad or resigned; she looks annoyed.
“Your mother isn’t signing this,” I remind her, but her expression doesn’t change.
“She would if she could,” she says so quietly I almost don’t catch it. Before I can ask, she nods to my bookshelf on the wall beside her. “Your philodendron needs fertilizer.”
“My what?”
“Your philodendron. The plant.”
“Oh, we have a service that comes in and takes care of them.” She seems disappointed when I say this, and weirdly I hate the idea of letting her down. “But I’ll tell them you said that.”
She doesn’t say anything but nods and continues to look around the room.
“Do you like plants?” Why the fuck am I asking her about plants? I need to get her to sign the prenup and then get her the fuck out of here so I can go get an MRI.
“I like gardening.” She smiles, and for the first time, it seems genuine. Her dark curls fall over the soft slope of her shoulder, and I have the almost unbearable urge to trace the curve of it. “But I’m not sure I’ll get to do it for much longer.”
“Why?” I have to stop asking questions, but my mouth isn’t working with my brain. Okay, so it’s a stroke. I’m having a stroke.
“Because Conner lives in an apartment.” When I don’t say anything, her storm cloud eyes find mine. “And I’m supposed to move in with him.”
“You say it like you don’t have a choice.”