Page 32 of His Son's Ex

As soon as the words leave her mouth, my phone buzzes on the table. We exchange a startled look.

“Whoa. That’s some weird psychic timing.” I pick up the phone, my heart skipping a beat at the unfamiliar number on the screen. “Hello?”

“Good morning, Ms. Smith,” a brisk female voice replies. “I’m calling from BK&C Corporation regarding your recent application. Is this a good time to talk?”

I shoot Halsey a wide-eyed look, then scramble to my feet, pressing the phone more firmly to my ear. “Yes, absolutely.”

“Excellent. I wanted to inform you that the board has reviewed your résumé and would love to have you come in for an interview. In fact, the CEO has personally taken an interest.”

My pulse thunders. “That’s amazing. I’d be honored.”

“Wonderful. We can schedule something for this Tuesday morning. Does nine a.m. work for you?”

I want to squeal with excitement, but instead, I force my voice to stay calm and professional. “Yes, that’s perfect. Thank you so much.”

A few more details are exchanged before I hang up, carefully setting my phone on the table. Halsey leans in, eyes bright. “Well?”

“I got an interview,” I whisper, hardly believing it myself. “The head of cybersecurity at BK&C. They want me. The CEO flagged my resume.” Excitement thrums through me. “I can’t believe it.”

“Girl, you’re a genius with code. Of course they want you.” Halsey leaps up and flings her arms around me, nearly knocking over the empty coffee cups. We share a clumsy hug, both squealing in delight.

When she finally pulls back, I’m a little breathless. “I can’t blow this, Halls. BK&C Corporation is no joke. They do private equity, finance, all sorts of big deals. They probably have a huge target on their digital infrastructure, which means they need someone strong, someone who can handle serious threats.”

“And that someone,” Halsey says, jabbing a finger at me, “is you. Just don’t freeze up or panic.” She taps her chin. “You’re going to need?—”

“A power suit,” I finish for her. We break into twin grins. “I need to look unstoppable. Smart, confident, borderline scary. They have to see me as someone who can stand up to any hacker or data breach.”

Halsey claps her hands together. “Exactly. So, let’s get brunch then hit the shops. This calls for a celebratory spree.”

I hesitate, glancing at my half-empty latte. “No more cheap coffee for me.”

She winks. “This is a day to treat yourself. I know a boutique that specializes in full-figure formal business attire, the kind that screams, ‘I’m a boss’.It would be perfect for you.”

My cheeks warm. I hate the phrase full-figure, but I know that’s what I am, and Halsey means nothing nefarious by it.

She cleans up the table in record time, and we head out to the bustling street. The spring sunshine dances off the sidewalks, making the city feel almost whimsical. It’s a nice contrast to the gloom of reading about mob shootouts and thinking about the sad fate of my parents.

“So,” Halsey begins, slipping on her oversized sunglasses, “you have any regrets about your time with the don?”

Memories of that night surge forward—his mouth on mine, his hands mapping every inch of my skin, the way he buried himself to the hilt inside me.

I shake my head slowly. “No. No regrets.”

Halsey grabs my arm, squealing under her breath. “That is so scandalous. I love it. Now, come on, let’s get some eggs Benedict or something before we shop. I’m starving.”

We weave through the mid-morning crowd, heading for a cozy brunch spot a few blocks away. As we walk, Halsey drops bits of gossip about the Pattersons—Luca’s mother’s side.

Apparently, Linda Patterson’s father once owned a string of oil rigs, but the fortune dwindled after a scandal with the IRS. She also mentions how Linda and Sarah’s father, Gerald Jones, used to play golf at the same country club.

“Sarah’s family invests heavily in biotech,” Halsey explains as we wait at a crosswalk. “So she’s not exactly poor. She’s been groomed for high society since birth. That’s probably why she’s so snooty. People like that don’t know how to handle real life, nor do they have the best social skills.”

“She sure had no problem insulting me at the wedding,” I mumble. “I can still see her face when she realized I wasn’t a twig.”

Halsey snorts. “That’s because she’s a size negative-two. Whatever. She can float off in her gold-trimmed bubble.”

We continue walking, eventually finding the small café, the scent of fresh bread and sizzling bacon stirring our senses. The hostess seats us by a window overlooking the busy street.

“Anyway,” she continues, stirring her coffee, “My folks used to run in the same circles as the Pattersons and the Jones. It’s old money and new money trying to gain one another’s influence and power. I guess that’s how Linda ended up with Dante in the first place. They met at some fancy fundraiser. The families hated each other, but love conquers all, right?” She snickers. “Clearly, in this case, it didn’t.”

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