Page 23 of Losing Faith

I glance at my watch before shaking my head. “It’s not even 2:00 p.m., Rome. You’re not even twenty-one.” The disappointment seeps out of me as my mind runs through what I’m going to do with him.

“Why did you call me?” I ask again.

“First of all, it’s 5:00 p.m. somewhere. Second, I don’t have anyone’s number memorized, and had your card in my pocket for some reason. Third, the legal age to drink is subjective.”

“It’s quite literallynot.”

“Agree to disagree. Listen, come pick me up, my cell smells like a pig’s pen.”

I rub my temples as I decide whether or not I should leave him in there and he must hear my thoughts through my hesitation because he goes on.

“The people in here already recognized me. Do you want word to get out that I got arrested? You said we needed to work on my image.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t mean to go—” I decide to stop wasting my breath and shut my laptop. “I’m on my way.”

He tells me where he is and I hang up on him as I stand from my seat and walk out of my home office.

Belle and I officially moved into our new house and my first day working from homewasgoing great, but I can never have a perfect day with clients that behave worse than my five-year-old.

The entire ride to thepolice station I go over in my head what I’m going to say to this kid to make him listen, but as I imagine his response, none of them are what I want to hear.

When I walk into the police station, a few officers stand straighter at the slight glance at my suit. I walk to the front desk and the officer stands from his seat. “What can I do for you?”

“I’m here to pick up my client, Rome Booker.”

It’s clear he knows exactly who that is as he gets the necessary paperwork. I head out when I’m done and lean against my car as I wait for him.

After a few minutes, he strolls out of the police station carefree with nothing more than a busted lip. I let out an annoyed breath as he smiles when he sees me.

He throws his hand up. “Jones.”

“Rome,” I mumble disappointedly.

He tilts his head to the side with a knowing look. “Aww, come on. Cheer up.”

I stare at him for a beat and when I don’tcheer up, his smile fades from his face.

“You get arrested again, and we will no longer be working together.”

His brows furrow as he searches my eyes. “We have a contract?”

“Sue me,” I deadpan before nodding for my car. “Get in.”

He does and I walk around for the driver’s seat. While I’m bluffing about quitting as his agent, he doesn’t know that and seems to believe me.

When I slip into my seat, he’s glancing around the car. “I didn’t know they had pink interiors in Durangos.” He nods to himself.

“They don’t.” I start the car and he doesn’t say anything as we drive off. I had the car customized because Isabelle wanted us to have a pink car, and while I’d drive a pink car, I was able to negotiate with her so we have pink seats that match the two pink stripes on the outside of the car.

Rome looks around the back seat and he must notice Belle’s car seat before his head snaps to me. “You have ababy?” He says it as if I kidnapped my own kid.

“A daughter, yes,” I reply dryly and I feel his eyes on me as he tries to figure something out.

“How old are you?”

I glance at him as he gives me a once-over.

“Thirty-two.” I turn back to the road and in my peripheral I see his gears turning.

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