Page 43 of Justice for Samara

“I’m eating antacids like they’re candy. See you in a bit.”

“Yep.” God, he dreaded doing what they had to do, but it was necessary. Keeping Carter in the dark simply wasn’t an option.

Back at his desk, he sent Samara a quick text.

Lunch with Carter at noon

She texted back:

I’m not done here yet.

No. No, no, no. That didn’t matter.

Look, after what happened earlier, we have to tell him today. Now. He deserves that.

She didn’t respond.

Samara, if you want me to tell him, I will, but he has to be told.

He waited and waited, but she didn’t respond. “Fuck it.” Touching her contact, he waited while it rang. As soon as she answered, he asked, “Are you not going to answer me?”

“Babe, there’s an awful lot to do here.”

“Then you need to tell me it’s okay for me to tell him.”

It was quiet for longer than he liked. Finally, she said, “Okay. Fine. I’m not happy about it, but I understand.”

“Good. Thanks. You know I won’t tell him any more than he needs to know.”

“Like what?”

“Like that little scar right above your?”

“Stop! Stop. Okay. Tell him. I’m fine with it. But no, you’d better not tell him about that.”

“Ha. I wouldn’t. Talk to you later.”

Well, that was that. The bomb had to be dropped, and it looked like he was the bombardier.

* * *

“What did you bring me?”

Michael opened the bag and handed it over. “Roast beef and potato cake sandwich from Randy’s Grill.”

“My favorite! If you talk to my wife, you brought me a salad.” Michael laughed. “I’m serious! She’s on me all the time for eating junk. Did you get a side?”

“Here ya go.”

Carter opened the little tub. “Fruit? Are you kidding me?”

“So if she asks, you can say you had fruit.”

Carter stared at the cup like it was on fire. “Well, there ya go. So what’s this big secret?”

Michael unwrapped his BLT and pulled out his fruit cup. “Okay, so you know I was engaged, right?”

“I don’t think you ever told me that.”

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