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Wife Wanted (A Billionaire Bad Boy Romance)(50)

By:Bella Grant
 
What he wasn’t sure about was what bothered him more: the fact that she might have been with another guy, or the fact that she’d tried to hide it from him. Not that he cared. It wasn’t his business. It was only his job to distract her and keep her out of the way.
 
“And what a fine job you’re doing, you idiot,” he muttered as he headed into Yancey’s office.
 
“…think about it? Really, William, sometimes you’re just a blind fool,” Diane snapped as Mitch walked in. “What is he doing here?”
 
“I called him here. So, what exactly did she find over the weekend? Did she talk to anyone?”
 
“Not that I’m aware of, but then again, I didn’t talk to her all weekend,” he said as he picked the glass paperweight off Yancey’s desk and tossed it from hand to hand, smirking as the man’s eyes followed it closely. “Said she was sick.”
 
Yancey gritted his teeth when Mitch almost dropped the paperweight. “And you don’t believe her? Will you please put that down? It was very expensive.”
 
“As is everything else you own,” Mitch leered but set the weight down. “And no, I don’t believe her. Think she might have been avoiding me.”
 
Diane laughed. “Not so good with the ladies, after all.”
 
“She likes me just fine. But there’s something else going on.”
 
Yancey got to his feet and crossed to the drinks table in the corner. “I am paying you a pretty penny to keep an eye on our little detective. She is the only loose end at the moment. Don’t make me hire someone else to take care of the issue.”
 
Mitch’s hand curled into a fist. “You don’t need to go to the extreme.”
 
“Prove it. Make sure she does not turn into a liability. When are you seeing her next?”
 
“Tonight. I’ll see if I can’t convince her that if she tells anyone, she’ll be starting something that she won’t be able to get out of easily.”
 
“Good, then get to it. Your next payment will be transferred into your account tonight,” Yancey said, then waved him away as he turned to Diane. Mitch headed slowly to the door. “What did you bring me from Marston’s place?”
 
Mitch heard files slap onto the glass desk surface. “More research to back up your claims.”
 
“No one noticed?”
 
“’Course not. I’m quiet, cover my tracks well. No one will figure it out until it’s too late.”
 
Mitch let the door close behind him on her words. “Careful, bitch, I know more than you think.”
 
 
 
 
 
Chapter 18
 
 
 
Phoebe heard the knock from her bedroom and jumped. Mitch. She had invited him over and thought it would be fine, but after spending the weekend with Ben, she wasn’t sure what to do anymore. Her heart was torn in so many directions, she wondered why it hadn’t just completely shattered yet. She could always tell Ben the truth, but then, where would that get her? She needed the money for her mother’s surgery, no matter what.
 
She would just have to tell Ben the truth and break it off before she got too attached. Mitch Harper was her future.
 
“Coming,” she called out, hoping her voice didn’t sound as shaky as it felt.
 
By the time she reached the front door, she had steeled herself and put a smile on her face as she pulled it open. “Hey,” Mitch said, holding up a bottle of wine. “Hope red was okay. Maybe this time you won’t throw it on me.”
 
Phoebe found herself laughing at his silly grin as he stepped inside. “Can’t make any promises.”
 
“Smells great,” he said. “What did you cook?”
 
“Ha! Me cook on a Monday? No, that would be takeout from the local Italian place,” she told him, pointing towards the pasta dishes already prepared and steaming hot. “Delivered just a few minutes ago.”
 
“Well, either way, I think it’s great.” He asked her where the glasses were and went to pour the wine as she set the plates out at her tiny table along with the silverware. Then, with his help, started to carry over the dishes. “So, was your Monday a bad Monday or a good Monday?” he asked, once they were settled and he’d slid her the glass of dark red wine.
 
She took a long sip and let it sit on her tongue, enjoying the fruity taste before it slid down her throat. “Depends on how I look at it, really. I still have a job.”
 
“Did you almost lose it?”
 
“Apparently I have an attitude problem…that, and I think Yancey is on to me.”