I stared at him.
Was he for real?
Clint didn’t have my best interests at heart. In fact, I doubted he even cared whether I was dead or alive. Clint was trying to pay me off now, before Chase could persuade me to sue his ass to get my family inheritance. My mother’s money had been passed down through generations, and my mother’s mental state had been more than questionable at the time she wrote her will. Any judge would have been more than sympathetic hearing my case. I knew this because several legal firms had written to me to offer me their services.
“Of course.” I laughed weakly, suddenly faint, and jutted my chin out. “Tell Clint that my fiancé and I will walk down the aisle on time. Now, if you’ll excuse me, we have an appointment today. It’s for a cake tasting, and that is one we can’t miss. Please send him my regards.”
“What about the contract I’ve drawn up? Will you be accepting the money?” His tone rang with fear. I wouldn’t have been surprised to find his hairy back slick with sweat.
I laughed inwardly, enjoying my proverbial grip on his balls. “There is no need for a contract, considering that I will not accept.” I gave him my most confident smile. “Thanks for meeting with me, Aldwin. It’s been a pleasure.”
Turning my back on him, I walked away from Aldwin and rounded a corner. Away from his curious gaze, I stopped and pressed my hand against my mouth as I fought hard to catch my breath.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” I muttered, unable to control the anger and jabbing pain rising inside me. Now I was in real trouble. Contrary to whatever Aldwin and Clint thought, it really wasn’t about the money, and it never would be.
My mother had wanted me to have the letters. Why wouldn’t Clint just give them to me? I had always disliked him and felt the feeling was mutual, but now I hated him with a vengeance. I couldn’t shake off the feeling that he enjoyed making my life a living hell by taking from me the one thing that really mattered to me—a physical memory of my mother.
I spent a few more minutes outside, fighting to clear the fog of anger inside my brain. When it didn’t work, I returned to the apartment. Jude appeared in the door the instant I walked in.
“What happened?” she asked, her voice betraying an edge of worry.
“Just the usual,” I muttered, and walked past her into my bedroom, slamming the door behind me, then buried myself under the sheets, praying sleep would come and wash away the anger and pain, and anything related to them.
The inability to grant my own mother’s last wish felt like a failure to me. With no husband and time running out, my options were depleted.
I had lost the fight.
Chapter 13
It must have been late afternoon when I awoke to the sound of muffled voices coming from the living room. Assuming Jude was home watching television, I sat up and shielded my eyes from the setting sun coming in through the windows. Thanks to Jude’s magic elixir, my headache had settled to a bearable level, and the nausea in the pit of my stomach had disappeared.
Time to face the world.
I took a shower and got dressed in black jeans and an oversized T-shirt, twisting my hair in a loose knot at the nape of my neck, not bothering with makeup.
The voices were gone. Apart from the faint traffic noise, the apartment was silent.
“Jude?” I called.
Nothing stirred.
Maybe she had switched off the television set and left already. I knocked on her door and received no answer. I headed down the hall and was about to pass the living room when I clashed with hard muscles. Strong hands wrapped around my waist, steadying me as I peered up into gray-blue eyes, and my mouth went dry again. Realizing I was an idiot, I jumped a step back to put a few inches of distance between us. But the hall was too narrow for us, his proximity overpowering.
“Sorry, I didn’t hear you,” Chase said. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”
I nodded, then shook my head.
Make up your mind, Hanson.
“I’m fine. What are you doing here?” I managed to croak, my eyes scanning the living room. But there was no sign of Jude.
“You wouldn’t return my calls.” His tone was nonchalant, detached, even, as though he didn’t notice just how close we were standing and how fast my heart was beating in my chest, the way his gaze traveled to my neck and the roundness of my half-exposed shoulder, and then down the front of my shirt. My breasts peaked in response, straining against the thin fabric of my bra.
“I popped over to make sure you survived last night’s cruel torture of your body.”
I ignored his indirect referral to my drunken state. “Who let you in?”
“Jude did. She instructed me to take care of you until she returns, and that’s exactly what I’m doing. I’m following her command.”