Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Annoyance makes my nose scrunch. I know that it must be difficult having a child who needs extra care, but both Molly and Harris are very high functioning, and they have never given any indication that they cannot handle living alone. Really, they are more responsible than I was at twenty-one. “I’m sorry.”
“Hopeful-ly, it will change with time, or that’s what my mom keeps saying.” He sighs.
“Well, what if you tell her that you guys can’t have dinner tonight, and we go out to eat?”
“I’ll ask Molly.” He sounds happier than he has since he got into the car.
While he talks to Molly on the phone, who confirms she would like to have dinner out, I drive us to our first showing of the day. A potential new client who is looking to upgrade their loft downtown apartment to a larger home just outside of the city. When we arrive at the house, I park in front of the garage and stop Harris when he starts to get out, because there is no way I’m taking any chances.
“We’ll wait until Mr. Andrew gets here,” I tell him when he turns to look at me.
“Why?”
“We’re just changing things up,” I tell him, because the truth is, I don’t know how he will react if he finds out that two women have been murdered in homes they were showing.
“Okay.” He gives me a look that states clearly he doesn’t like it but doesn’t say more. “They’re here,” he says not even a minute later, when a black Mercedes with dark-tinted windows pulls into the driveway. I pull out the file folder I tucked between my seat and the middle console and grab my keys out of the ignition. When I open my door and get out, I slam it behind me, then meet the gaze of the man standing at the hood of the Mercedes, feeling red-hot anger fill the pit of my stomach.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I whisper-hiss, hearing Harris shut his door behind me.
“April.” Cohen gives me the smile that has melted a million panties and probably broken hundreds of hearts.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, and he looks between me and the house like it should be obvious. “Right, then you need to find a different agent.”
“I want you,” he says easily, coming toward me, looking exactly like what he is—a rock star. Piercing blue eyes, dark shaggy hair, and thick scuff along his jaw, wearing his ripped jeans with his worn-out shirt that is probably not, just bought at some high-end store and cost hundreds of dollars if not more. “I couldn’t get ahold of you any other way, and we need to talk.”
“No, thank you.” I turn to look at Harris. “We’re leaving.” I open my door, but before I can get into my car, Cohen is there, wrapping his hand around my bicep and stopping me.
“Five minutes, please.”
I tip my head back, and a sense of déjà vu washes over me as I meet his gaze. How many times did I give in to the plea in his tone and expression? How many times did I say okay and let him convince me that things would change? How many times were things between us good—until they weren’t anymore?
Too many. Way too many is the answer to all those questions.
“Let me go,” I hiss, when I really want to shout. The only thing keeping me from doing exactly that is the fact that Harris is here, and I don’t want to scare him.
“Please.” He releases me and raises his hand up between us. “I just want to talk.”
I want to say no. I really do. But I don’t want this to continue to happen. I don’t want to worry that he’s going to show up every time I have an appointment with a new client.
I turn to look at Harris over the roof of the car. “I’m going to talk to him for a minute. While I do that, do you want to find somewhere to make reservations for dinner tonight?”
“Are you going to be o-okay with him?” he asks as he looks between Cohen and me, obviously feeling the tension, and my face softens.
“I’ll be okay, and I won’t be more than a couple of minutes,” I say, and he nods and opens his door. When he’s inside, I step away from the car and cross my arms over my chest as I turn to face Cohen. “I have stuff to do today, so please make this quick.”
“You’re still the only women I know who’s even more beautiful when she’s pissed,” he says quietly, his eyes roaming over my face like he’s trying to memorize it. “I’ve missed you, so fucking much. I….” He looks away for a moment, then runs his fingers through his hair. “Shit, I had a whole speech rehearsed for this moment, but now I’m at a loss for words.”