Page 88 of The Exception

Trav snickered and changed his voice. “Madrecita! It’s a beautiful night to hear your voice.”

“That’s better. Why are you snipping into the phone?”

He unlocked his door, holding the phone with his shoulder. “I wasn’t snipping.”

“You were.”

A stretch of silence like a game of chicken fell between them while he put his things on the counter and kicked off his sneakers. “My day wasn’t great.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, mijo. Is this to do with your father?”

Any woman who’d put up with Jack Travis long enough knew the tell-tale signs of an altercation with him. For Trav, it had always been brooding. And today he’d taken it too far.

“It started out that way. I made it something else.”

“Mmm. This is a thing you do.”

He sighed. “Yes it is.”

“People only have power over us when we invite them to stay in the rooms in our brain. Your rooms are always open to him, Trav, and though we all know he has the funds, he never pays you for his stay.”

Trav leaned on the counter and rubbed at his temple. That was true, and today it had cost him extra.

“It’s just running into him at work. Even when I keep my nose down, he seeks me out just to put me down.” Anger bubbled again in his chest and he clenched his jaw, knowing that anger was for himself. “Tonight I made that someone else’s problem.”

“Who is this someone else?”

“A woman.”

Marielle faked a dramatic gasp, and Trav laughed. “I suppose I will be getting the details on this soon, but mijo, Jack Travis has a line of women he’s made regret meeting him. Don’t add yours to the list.”

“You’re right.”

“I am always.”

“Is that why you called? To give me advice you didn’t even know I needed?”

“Of course not. I called to get your address so I could send you some cookbooks and a few other things.”

Trav laughed and shook his head. “You know they have this thing called the internet now. Cookbooks are kind of obsolete.”

“I’ll ignore that, and you’ll give me your address.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He rattled off the address, promised again to send photos of his place, then said goodnight.

He was sure he’d gotten out of giving Marielle the details about Sonya when his phone rang again. “I didn’t give her enough credit,” he mumbled, expecting to see that Marielle remembered and called back. But this time when he looked at the ID, his surprise was the reverse.

“Hi,” he answered.

Sonya replied, “I wasn’t sure you’d answer.”

“Of course I would.” His stomach sank. “Hey, I’m—”

“I’m outside,” she said. “I figured I’d see if you answered the phone first before I—”

He dropped the phone on his new coffee table and rushed to the door. She gave him a weak smile when he opened it, her fingers twisting in the hem of the light jacket she wore. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Relief was the only thing on his mind when he reached for her wrist, pulling her against his chest.

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