Page 67 of The Reluctant Hero

I pick up my purse and sack lunch to walk out the door. With my new key card, I don’t have to worry about the stairs, either. He’s busy on the phone, and everyone else is quiet to listen in, so no one protests my leaving—if they would in the first place.

The first floor is a relief to see and the sudden tension that’s invaded me becomes lighter. Harriette gives me a smirk and asks where my hat went. I make a big show of shrugging with wide eyes and hurry to the filing room.

No one is there, of course, so I have the room to myself as I unpack my lunch.

I’m slow to eat as I pick apart my reaction to all of it.

My first instinct is to go home and change. My lunch break is supposed to be an hour, and I can make it there and back if I leave now.

The next is an absolute refusal to do that just because Loser and Matthias have the same thought processes. I never realized my sense of humor drained away from me because of crap like this. Being the perfect wife took over everything, and Ididn’t even fight it. And for what? Loser to be happy with me? He never was.

What’s the point of being with someone if I can’t even be myself?

“Forgot your phone.”

I glance at Ace in the doorway, wearing his customary smile.

“The service got cut off, so it’s a paperweight that plays music now,” I shrug and take a bite of my sandwich.

His brow furrows as he joins me. He even brought his own chair, which makes me laugh lightly. He sets it up and sits next to me. It’s like he has no sense of personal space because our thighs are practically touching.

I don’t say anything because his attention feels good. It doesn’t seem fake or forced. If anything, he’s insistent about gaining my attention. It does a lot to soothe my fragile ego.

“Was it on his plan?”

I nod. “I should have changed it over a while ago, but I got lazy as usual. I always learn my lessons the hard way. When’s Loser showing up?”

“He isn’t, for his own safety,” Ace says through gritted teeth.

“Relax,” I scoff. “Watching you guys do that makes my teeth ache.”

His expression softens as he watches me take another bite.

“The address. It’s your complex.”

I debate on venting to this virtual stranger. He’s nice enough if a little homicidal, but who isn’t these days? The thing is, I’m getting a bad vibe about working so close to them and I’m not sure if it’s because I find them all attractive or if it’s actual paranoia.

“And you still haven’t gotten a lawyer,” his tone begins to darken.

That’s all it takes for my temper to take over my mouth. Here I thought we were murder buddies. I don’t appreciate the slap in the face.

“Yeah, because there’s some law that says if he contacted them first, even if they aren’t representing him, they can’t accept me as a client. And he must have spent all fucking week making phone calls because I have yet to find one he missed. Even other counties! Who the fuck does that? Who wants to stay in a marriage just to be treated like garbage while the asshole screws anything that breathes in his direction? And he expects me to just walk back into that house of bullshit like nothing happened? That fucker forgot who he was messing with. I am a mother fuckingJefferson!”

I’m gesturing around angrily with my sandwich, and I can feel the heat rising in my face as my volume increases.

“Using my so-called friends to keep tabs on me and report my every move isn’t going to save his ass. I spent all damn day trying to findanylawyer he hasn’t gotten to. Then, my phone gets cut off. So I go to the landlord’s office and ask to use the phone. That sleazeball tells me Loser is buying the complex, and he’s kicking everyone out to remodel it. What the fuck?AndI had a notice on my door this morning saying I have a week to get out. Did anyone else? No. Is he buying the place, or is he paying the landlord to harass me? I want to know. And why the hell is he doing this?”

“He had perfection, and he’s regrettin’ lettin’ it go.”

I give him a disbelieving laugh. “He’s slept with enough women to make it clear I wasn’t perfect.”

“Doesn’t matter what that fucker thought then. This is now,” Ace leans forward to give me an intense look. “He wantsyou back. You bailed before Blake got to the good part of the phone call.”

“There is no good part to that dick anymore,” I sneer. “If there ever was.”

“Agreed,” he smirks and licks his lower lip. For some reason, he’s enjoying my rage-filled attitude. It’s put him in a good mood. “He wanted to come here and make a scene about how much he loves you.”

I gag with a roll of my eyes.

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