Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 72945 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72945 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
I go quiet then and don’t speak for the remainder of the drive. He doesn’t either—he falls asleep and snores gently as I wind my way to his Main Line mansion.
What do I want? It’s a question I don’t ask myself enough. There are things in my life that make me satisfied, that bring me short bursts of joy, but what do I really want? What do I like? I’ve always been envious of people with intense hobbies, who are lifelong collectors of games or furniture or whatever. Who read only one kind of book because they love that book, or who knit and love knitting, or who know their aesthetic inside and out.
I envy those people, because I find myself liking everything, and when you like everything, you don’t like anything enough.
I park in Cowan’s driveway and kill the engine. My hand drifts to my abdomen and stays there. The only sounds are Cowan snoring and the wind blowing through the trees nearby.
What do I want? What do I really want?
This movie.
Not to be pregnant.
But also to have this baby.
What do I want?
“Well, that was a nice drive.” Cowan yawns, stretches, and kicks open the door.
“Wait, Mr. Cowan—”
He ignores me and shuffles out toward the house. I roll down my window and yell after him.
“Hey, Cowan!”
He turns, smiling. “Yes, suit?”
“Don’t misuse movie money again, do you hear me? And you’re signing the goddamn paperwork.”
“Whatever you say, suit.” He salutes me and walks off.
I watch him go, tingling with anger, before I shoot off a quick text to Baptist. Meet me at Heart.
Chapter 5
Baptist
“He did fucking what?”
I stare at Blair through a haze of red rage and try to keep myself under control but I’m pulsing with the sudden and very intense need to hunt down Tony Cowan and murder him. I could easily blame it on the fucking raccoons.
“I’m fine. Everything’s fine. But our first line item on the budget can’t be crack cocaine, all right?”
“Fucking hell, Webb.” I stand and start to pace. I grab my coffee and throw it back, distinctly aware of the other patrons watching me. Even Zoe seems somewhat uncomfortable. But they can all go to hell.
Tony Cowan is a genius. He’s unstable and difficult, but he’s a genius. And now that genius is dragging my partner into insanely dangerous situations all for his own profit and gain.
My partner. My fucking Blair.
No, no, not mine.
For one short moment, yes, at that wedding she was all mine. Her lips and body and moans, they were mine. But the endless string of strange women coming through my bedroom is supposed to drown out the voice that screams at me every time I’m alone to find Webb, rip off her clothes, and fuck her raw and own her the way I need to.
But I can’t.
We agreed. That sex, that mind-blowing sex, it was only for that night. I have to set it aside and move on, or else this is going to get extremely complicated very quickly, even worse than it already is.
“Cowan crossed a line,” I say finally, gesturing with my coffee. Some spills over the side and burns my fingers, but I like the pain right now. The pain helps to focus me. “He went way beyond the line. The line is in a different country.”
“I completely agree.”
“Then we’re done. We’re walking away.”
“Baptist—”
“There are a dozen talented directors in Hollywood, Webb. Hell, there are probably a dozen in Philadelphia, all we’ve got to do is find them. Fuck Tony Cowan and his crack.”
“Baptist.” She glares at me, jaw working. “I already paid the damn gangsters. That’s behind us.”
“He’s going to do it again.” I sit back down in my chair, leg jostling. “You said it yourself. He wants to know how badly we want this.”
“It’s a game,” she agrees.
“Which means it’ll only get worse. We back off now, we minimize our losses.”
“Why are you talking like you want to end this? Cowan was your idea, remember?”
I flinch slightly and nod, staring down at my drink. Why am I ready to back out so quickly? If this were anyone else—if this were Ansell, or Marie, or any of my other friends or colleagues—I wouldn’t be ready to burn it all to the ground.
But it’s Blair. He dragged her into a mafia bar and stood her in front of extremely dangerous men and made her give them cash. If he were anyone else, I’m sure those assholes would’ve done something to her.
I can’t think about that. Rage roils in my heart, white hot and painful. I can’t picture Blair getting touched, cat-called, violated—
Fuck, I want to kill them. I want to burn that whole block to the ground and piss on their ashes.
“I’m not going to let you put yourself in danger again.”
She laughs once. “I’m not sure you have a say in that. We’re business partners and nothing more, remember?”