The Dirty Series 2(23)

I had every right to be upset about him lying to me. I still have every right to be upset.

But Christian is human, just like the rest of us. And from what I can tell, he didn’t get anything extra out of pretending to be his brother, other than his father’s affection.

I never doubted that my father loved me. Not everyone in the world has it so easy.

Even billionaires have their problems.

Nope. No.

I need to shut this down. I can’t keep spending time justifying his actions. I’m not ready to forgive him and move on from this—I’m just not. I’m in New York City because another man lied to me so well and for so long that by the time I left, he had another life waiting for him in the wings. With my best friend.

It’s not my job to let Christian off the hook, no matter how I feel about him. My biggest responsibility is to live a life that I want to live, and right now—as gut-wrenching as it is to admit it—that life does not include a lying billionaire who is still, to this day, impersonating his dead twin brother.

And yet…

And yet…

I send another message to Carolyn.

I just want some closure.

Are you sure that’s all you want?

Yes.

Then I’m with you 100%.

The bubble indicating that she’s typing again pops up right away.

I agree, though—what a bizarre thing to say!

I drop my phone back into my purse and flick on my computer screen, an odd wave of focus coming over me.

I don’t have to sit here waiting to see what’s going to happen.

I can take charge of my own life.

It won’t be the first time I’ve done it, and it won’t be the last, but I need to do something right now to make a change. It will put my mind at ease. It will put a stop to this endless second-guessing about a relationship that probably wasn’t going to go anywhere. Sooner or later, the truth was going to come out. There isn’t a person on earth who could keep a secret like that for a lifetime. Jesus, what if we’d been married? What if I’d been pregnant?

I need to put myself back in the driver’s seat, and I know just how I’m going to do it.

I stand up from my desk and glance at my reflection in the office window, tugging my blazer so that it lays smoothly over my curves. Then I’m in motion, out the door.

“Adam, call Walker and tell him I’m coming down for a meeting.”

“Of course, Ms. Campbell,” Adam calls out to my retreating back.

Walker’s office is on the opposite end of the floor, so it takes me a little longer than I’d like to get there. Quite a few people greet me as I go past, and I stop to chat with most of them. I’ve always made it a habit to be a charmer in the office. You never know when those connections might come in handy.

Finally, Walker’s secretary—who is constantly on the phone—waves me in with a smile.

“Thanks, Marjorie,” I mouth, and go in through Walker’s open door.

He turns away from his computer when he hears me enter. “Quinn,” he says with a broad grin. “Adam said you were on your way. What can I do for you?”

I sit down in one of the two chairs across from Walker’s desk and cross my legs, making sure my posture is straight and confident. “You know how much I love it here at HRM, don’t you?”

A flicker of confusion crosses his face, but his smile doesn’t waver. “You’re doing quite the job with the Pierce account,” Walker laughs. “If you hated it here, there’s no way you’d put in that kind of effort.”

“The thing is—working on the Pierce account has really opened my eyes. I don’t want to leave HRM, I just want to go…bigger.” I raise my hands in front of me, giving Walker an approximation of the size of my dreams. I let my smile extend all the way to my eyes.

He cocks his head and considers me. “What do you mean by bigger? Are you requesting a transfer? There’s only one office that…” His mouth drops open. “Damn, you’re an ambitious one. Are you talking about what I think you’re talking about?”

“Yes,” I say, my voice strong and enthusiastic. “London.”





Chapter Forty-Six





Christian



Standing in the lobby of Pierce Industries on Friday morning with a black portfolio in my hand, it’s hard to believe that my life has come to this.

Frank, my lawyer, stands at my side.

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” he says for the hundredth time. “We can begin private negotiations on this issue without letting the world know through a press conference. The news will break eventually. It doesn’t have to happen today. As your lawyer, I have to advise you that this—”