Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 106774 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106774 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
“Hey, Joe,” Gray calls out.
“Come on back.”
Gray’s hand brushes against the small of my back as he guides me forward, and the contact catches me off guard. The heat of his touch in such a vulnerable, intimate spot has me shivering. My instinct is to pull away and distance myself from him, but I appreciate knowing Gray’s there as I walk into the unknown. I can’t believe I just thought that.
“Betty’s working at the mayor’s office today,” a man I presume is Joe says behind a dark wooden desk as we round the corner. He’s older than I imagined—probably in his late sixties, early seventies—and has shiny black hair that’s slicked back. The mole on his chin somehow softens his otherwise severe persona. He smirks at Gray. “Didn’t know I was gonna get to see your ugly face, too.”
“Consider it a bonus.” Gray laughs. “Joe, this is Astrid Lawsen. Astrid, this is Joe Jewell.” He leans over and whispers loud enough for Joe to hear. “He looks like a dipshit, but he’s a pretty damn good lawyer.”
“Yeah, well, that’s better than being a pretty-boy dipshit,” Joe cracks back, his big belly vibrating with his chuckle. He turns his attention to me. “You’re too pretty for this guy.”
“Oh,” I say, my cheeks flushing. “We’re not together. Not like that.”
Gray shifts at my side.
Joe holds out a hand. “What do you have for me?”
“I brought the letter with me,” I say, digging in my purse and handing it over to the attorney. My palms are damp, and I glance at the envelope, hoping there’s no sweat stains on the paper.
“Hey, Gray,” Joe says, opening the envelope. “My lunch is ready at Piper’s. Will you go get it for me?”
Gray’s gaze drops to mine, and immediately, I sense his concern about leaving me. I fight the urge to reach out and touch his hand … as that would make things awkward for sure.
“I’ll be here when you get back,” I say, nodding.
He nods, steals a look at Joe, then ducks out. When I turn back to Joe, he’s reading through the letter with a sour look on his face.
“What’s this about?” he asks, his voice full of gravel. “Ex-boyfriend, I’m guessing.”
“How’d you know?”
He looks at me over the top of the paper. “This isn’t my first rodeo. Grab a seat.”
I settle into a brown pleather chair that smells faintly of cigar smoke. My jeans squeak against the material like new sneakers down a corridor. I’m not comfortable, but I don’t dare move another inch lest I sound like a child.
“Were you ever on this lease?” Joe asks.
“No. Never. Trace already lived there when I moved in. I did pay rent a couple of times, but I never signed anything.” A cold knot forms in my stomach. “And Trace kicked me out and had another woman living there for I don’t know how long after I left.”
Joe places the paper on top of the envelope and grabs a pen. “Do you have the dates of when you moved in and out?”
“Um, I moved in about six years ago in October and moved out in March four years ago. If you want exact dates, I can get them.”
He scribbles notes on a legal pad. “No, that’s fine.” He motions toward a smaller pad of paper and a pencil on the corner of his desk. “Write down your contact information there for me. Name, phone, address, and email.”
I take it and jot down my details.
“I’ll take care of this,” he says, watching me as I put his things back on his desk. “You’ll get a copy of all communications either by mail or email.”
The door opens behind me and footsteps sound through Betty’s office.
I lick my lips. “Before we get the ball rolling, how much do you charge? Because I might have to make payments, if you can do that. If not, I have a credit card, but I’d rather not pay that way if I can help it.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“But—”
“Piper said if it’s cold, it’s your fault,” Gray says, plopping a bag on Joe’s desktop. “You were supposed to pick it up an hour ago.”
Joe rolls his eyes. “Piper can settle the hell down. I paid for it, so what’s it to her?” He peers into the bag with chunky fingers. “Looks like they got it right, for once.”
Gray winks at me.
“I’m gonna eat,” Joe says. “You two get the hell out of here. It was nice to meet you, Astrid.”
“But we didn’t get a chance to discuss payments,” I say, my heart pattering.
Joe looks at Gray. “Get her outta here, will ya?”
“Let’s go,” Gray says, motioning with his head to follow him.
“But …”
“Come on.” Gray’s tone has a warning embedded in the notes. “See ya, Joe.”
“Goodbye.”
I stand, feeling an urgency to settle the payment terms, because I’m not sure what Joe expects. It complicates it more that he’s Gray’s friend. So if I can’t pay, that could hurt my relationship with Gray, which, in turn, could hurt my relationship with Renn. Before I can start a protest, Joe takes a bite of his sandwich and turns his attention to his computer.