Page 22 of The Wife Situation

I reach for my phone to check the time, and Carlee’s rings.

Her face contorts after she answers. “What do you mean?”

“What?” I whisper, not liking how her demeanor has shifted.

“Who did?” She’s staring at me. “You didn’t get his name?”

The conversation continues.

“Okay. Well, thanks. Yeah, no problem.”

She shoves her phone in her back pocket. “Someone paid our rent for the year.”

“Wow,” I say, trying to act surprised. Guess he wasn’t joking.

“This has your scent all over it. What did you do?” she asks.

I hold back a smile. “Easton Calloway offered to pay it if I forgave him for having me fired.”

She shakes her head, not believing it. “Oh my God! Tell me you forgave him?”

“No, I didn’t. He can’t buy me, Carlee. The man walks through life, getting whatever he wants. It stops here.”

I explain how I was reading and how he magically appeared. I keep some of our conversation to myself, but I don’t know why. I have no reason to protect this man.

“Don’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t. It’s safe with me, even though I’d blow my blog up if I released a firsthand account.”

“Please. I don’t want to draw any more attention to myself. If it’s on your radar, it’s already an issue,” I say. Not wanting any of this.

“I promise. It’s for my entertainment only. Wait, did you say you have his number?”

“Yeah.” I unlock my phone and turn the screen around to show her.

“You programmed him in as ASSHOLE?”

This makes me laugh. “No, he did that.”

She snorts. “So, he has a personality. Girl, what are you doing? Call that manright now. Give him aproperthank-you.”

Just thinking about talking to him has me ready to combust. “And say what?Thank you for following through after nearly ruining my life?”

“That’s a start. Or you can offer your sincere appreciation and ask him to join us tonight. It might be fun.”

I meet her eyes, knowing she can’t be serious. “That wouldn’t happen. He’d deny the invitation. We’re not his crowd, Carlee. Trust me. He’s filthy rich, and he probably eats placentas for breakfast or somethingsuperevil.”

I think about that boyish smirk and how it felt to hear him chuckle.

She lifts a brow and places her hand on her hip. “Want to put some money down on it?”

I shake my head. “I’m not betting you. I’m already broke enough, and I owe you so much.”

She pulls a one-hundred-dollar bill from her bra and straightens it. “Mr. Franklin could be going home with you tonight. All it takes isonephone call. And if he denies the invitation, I will never mention him to you again. We’ll pretend like none of it happened.”

The thought of speaking to him makes my throat dry. “You’re making me want to drink. I’m sorry, I can’t call him.”

“I should contact your mama right now and tell her how rude you’re being. Not even athank youto a man who spent eighteen thousand dollars on you like it was nothing?”

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