Page 190 of Even Exchange

Me

How about I put you on the table instead

“Noah,” a familiar feminine voice says, pulling my attention to the last person I ever expected to find leaning against my truck.

“Georgia,” I clip.

“We need to talk.” No good conversation has ever started with those words.

“About?” An alarm is blaring in my head—DEFCON 1. Whatever reason she has for showing up here, and not my house where her daughter lives, cannot be good. I glance around the mostly empty,secureparking lot. “How did you get in here?”

“I have connections.” She waves me off.

“What do you want?”

“You and Charlie need to stop this little thing you’ve got going on. It’s time for her and Jonathan to make up.”

My body flushes with anger, and I huff a laugh. “Are you crazy?”

“No. I just think things through.”

Is she suggesting I don’t?

“Charlie’s using you,” she says. “You must realize that.”

Fury surges through me at the insinuation. “Bullshit.”

“As soon as she gets her trust fund back, she’ll leave you.”

“You’re giving it back?” I ask, shocked by the news. Georgia doesn’t seem like the type to do anything without cause.

“When she agrees to my terms.”There it is.Charlotte never mentioned anything about this.Is she considering it?

“She won’t,” I say with a scoff. I don’t even need to hear the terms to know they’re bullshit. And if they involve a life where Charlotte and I aren’t together, then the chances of her accepting are null.

“You sure about that?” she replies with an icy smile, sending chills down my spine.

“Yeah,” I say confidently. “I’m sure.”

“Save yourself the drama and end things now.”

I walk past her, opening the back door and throwing my duffle in. “Why the hell do you care anyways?” I ask, veins molten hot, slamming the back door shut. “Just leave Charlotte alone.”

“Because the press will have a goddamn field day if they find out my twenty-year-old daughter got knocked up. Especially if it comes out she’s living with a man who isn’t the father. Even worse, a man like you.”

I stand there slack-jawed, brushing aside the personal insult to focus on the most idiotic part. “You’re telling me you want your daughter to live a pretend life, in a loveless relationship with a man who doesn’t want his child, so that you can… what? Become governor?”

“Oh, sweetie,” she says condescendingly. “That’s step one. I’ve got my eye on a muchbiggerchair in a muchwhiterhouse.”

“Youwant to be president?” The level of delusion is laughable. This woman should be in Oz under a house right about now.

“Yes, and that means my record needs to be squeaky clean. No mess. No slutty daughter.” My veins buzz at how she speaks about her. “At least if Charlie’s with Jonathan, it could appear planned. Honorable. A proper family.”

A proper family.

Fuck. That.

“Thanks for your ‘advice,’” I grit out. “But I’m not ending my relationship because you have a batshit dream to be president.”

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