Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 66134 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66134 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
“She’s taking a shower,” Valerie replied. “She’s scraped up from the fall, and she did sprain her left wrist, but nothing is broken.”
Relief flooded through me, along with sheer determination to put an end to this guy’s harassment, by any means necessary. I sat down in a chair across from where Jack and Valerie were seated on the sofa. “Tell me everything that happened.”
Valerie was more forthcoming with the details, while I knew that Stevie would have downplayed the situation. By the time Valerie finished relaying the story of her ex confronting Stevie before shoving her to the ground because she wouldn’t give him the information he wanted on Valerie, my entire body vibrated with anger.
“What’s Mark’s last name?” I asked Valerie, prepared to have Remy find out whatever he could on this guy to use to my advantage before I paid him a personal visit myself.
“Branson,” Valerie said.
That brought me up short, and I stared at her in disbelief. “Branson…as in The Branson Group?”
She nodded. “Yes. I used to work there. That’s how I met Mark.”
Holy shit, I thought, putting the pieces together in my mind. Mark Branson…the son of Grant Branson, the CEO of The Branson Group, a financial investment firm I was well acquainted with. The leverage I needed had just fallen into my lap in the most karmic way.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Stevie walk into the main living area, wearing an old T-shirt and a pair of pink, well-worn sweatpants. Her hair was damp, and her left wrist was encased in a black brace. When she saw me, she sighed in resignation.
I immediately jumped up from the couch and approached her, my eyes checking her out from head to toe, just in case the doctor missed anything. I didn’t bother to ask if she was okay, because I knew I’d get a very pat, “I’m fine”, response.
“Are you in pain?” I asked instead, also seeing the red scratches on her palms. It took everything in me not to pick up her hands and hold them in mine, or just touch her in general. But I heeded her body language, which was extremely guarded.
She shrugged. “My left wrist is a little uncomfortable. I took a few ibuprofens so I can sleep.”
I frowned at her weary expression, at the fatigue I could see in her eyes. There was no telling how many aches and pains she’d be feeling by morning. “Maybe you should stay home from work tomorrow.”
Her chin lifted a fraction, and she gave me one of those “you’re not the boss of me” looks that would have made me laugh under different circumstances. “I have a presentation tomorrow and I’m not calling in sick.”
“The team can handle the presentation,” Jack offered. “Samantha and Brandy would certainly understand.”
“No, I’ll be there,” Stevie insisted, stubborn as ever.
“Okay, but if you wake up in the morning and don’t feel up to it and change your mind—”
“I won’t,” she reiterated, then shifted her gaze back to me, a slight smile on her lips as if to soften her next words. “I’m really tired and I’m going to bed. Thank you for coming by and checking on me.”
I gave her a nod, when all I wanted was to take her home with me, tuck her into my bed where she belonged, and watch over her. But that clearly wasn’t an option. “I’m taking care of the Mark situation first thing in the morning.”
Her eyes went wide with surprise. “How?”
“I know his father personally.” That’s all the information Stevie needed, because I knew she wouldn’t approve of what I had in mind.
A small frown formed between her brows and I knew she was considering telling me to stay out of it. Not a chance, I thought, but I waited for her reply. Finally, she sighed in what seemed like acceptance.
“Well, I hope whatever you say to him works better than a restraining order.”
Thank goodness common sense had won out. I didn’t want to argue with her tonight. “Oh, it will,” I promised.
Uncaring that the two other people in the room were watching, I finally gave in to the urge to reach out and lightly caress my fingers along Stevie’s cheek. She instinctively softened at my touch, and almost leaned into my hand before she caught herself and slowly pulled back.
So, I did the same. For now. “Get some rest and I’ll check in with you tomorrow.”
* * *
The next morning, I strode into The Branson Group and up to the receptionist’s desk. Brittany, who I was well acquainted with since she’d been there for a few years, greeted me with a smile.
“Hi, Mr. Kane,” she said, then tipped her head in confusion as her eyes seemed to go over a document on her computer screen. “I don’t have you on the schedule for a meeting this morning. Is Mr. Branson expecting you?”