Page 118 of Hard to Judge

“Insurance?” I snip, irritated with him and Arlo for no great reason.

“Won’t pay since he’s authorized on the account,” the other guy answers.

“Who are you?” I look at him.

The older gentleman squirms in his seat. “I’m Andrew Castleburn, Mr. Hatfield’s attorney.”

Mio returns with drinks, setting a pitcher of water and glasses on the low table.

“Mio, please have Elon bring me my laptop,” I whisper for her ears alone.

“Yes, Mr. Kido.” She bows and rushes out.

Arlo catches my gaze, but I pull it back to the papers, then shift it to Ziya. “Do you have a file on the real estate?”

She hands it over, while Arlo and the lawyer begin talking about their deal. I flip through the pictures and descriptions of each property. Two are commercial spaces only being utilized to half their potential. The residential property needs work and has space for an additional building, which could increase profits.

It’s the vacant building that has my attention.

With old-style architecture and wide-open rooms, I see a student resource center before I even hit the description page. It’s nothing but empty space right now, but it has so much potential to help young adults who are struggling, like I struggled.

“Sir.” Mio hands over my laptop.

“Thank you.” I’m so focused that I don’t even take the opportunity to irritate her. I run a quick background check on Nate and his business partner. Sure enough, he has grievances filed with the local courts and the sheriff’s department lists his partner as missing, but crossed the border into Mexico two weeks ago.

“I’ll take the deal.”

A hush comes over the room.

Nate’s gaze swings from me to Arlo and back. “But?—”

Arlo’s expression is unreadable.

“I’m loaded too.” I shrug.

Hailey’s sharply heeled boot steps into the car. Her curves practically cut the tension that the cool air filtering in does nothing to dissipate as she slides into the seat next to me. Her sheer flowing skirt slides around her knees. The green of her gaze flits about the car, taking every single thing into account in a fraction of a second.

My tight shoulders. Hota’s distant gaze, across from me. The stranger next to him, who she knows by my text is the notorious Nate.

The fucker invited Hota to lunch. Just Hota. To catch up.Wink. Wink. On Hota’s fucking dime, no less. Since that’s the only way Nate can afford a meal in this town that isn’t a dollar slice.

“Thank you, Leo.” Hailey smiles at our driver for his assistance.

“Yes, miss.” He nods and then closes the door on this tinder box.

There’s not shit wrong with a dollar slice. I love them. The problem I have is Nate’s come fuck-me eyes roving all over my man, and my man’s eyes looking anywhere but at me.

Of course, I thrust myself into their plans and Hailey too. No way I’m letting these two out of my sight.

“Nate Hatfield, this is Dr. Hailey Fitzpatrick.” I don’t put any labels on her.Our girlfriend.

Hota doesn’t know what’s going on. I thought I did up until a few hours ago. Now, I’m lost.

“Mr. Hatfield.” Hailey reaches across the void and shakes hands with the enemy.

I clench mine to keep them from ripping her away from him. Hota’s hands clench too. I can only hope it’s for the same reason.

“Please, call me Nate.” He pats her hand and slides back into his seat. “I’m sorry to interrupt your lunch date.” The bastard points at me and Hailey. “I was hoping to catch up with Hota. We lost touch after graduation.” His hand slides along the back of the seat and behind Hota’s neck. “We used to be so close.”

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