Page 137 of Fixation
What kind of man ishe?
A terrible one.
This isn’t a coincidence.
Darla and I talked about Werner and how obnoxious he’d been. I emailed him back and said as politely as I could, stating that I wasn’t interested.
Now he’s dead.
My breath catches. It doesn’t make sense. It can’t?—
“Harper?”
“How did he…uh…” My mind scrambles to piece everything together.
Anderson looked normal yesterday. As normal as he’s capable of looking, anyway. How could he, if he murdered someone?
“How did Werner die?”
“His PA is a friend of mine and he called me last night with the news. Said Werner never logged on to their 2 a.m. meeting with Southeast Asia. He never does that, so the PA went over there half an hour later and found him dead. They said it was a heart attack. Can you believe that?”
“No.” And yes.
He was young. Thirty-five-year-old, I think he told me when I met him this one time after I moved out here.
He looked healthy. Vibrant.
Anderson is the most vibrant of them all.
Holy fuck.
“Wait…” I blink, remembering some of the movie research my parents have done over the years. “How’d they even get the autopsy back so fast?”
“His PA called in a favor. Mentioned something about having connections at the coroner’s office,” she says quickly. I’m relieved by that. If she asked them the same thing I did, that means my question doesn’t look so suspicious. “They rushed one of those rapid drug panels. Just the basics, nothing in-depth.Took a few hours, tops to get the preliminary report. Anyway, the cops also checked out his place. Nothing was taken. No drugs in his system, either. His heart just stopped. He just… died.”
Just died.
Just diedafter asking me out.
Anderson. He must’ve found out about the emails. He killed him. Had to.
My hands are trembling so badly that I nearly drop the phone.
And yet it’s still Anderson I want, despite him being a murderer. Allegedly. Probably.
My lungs seize. My chin quivers.
“I’ll call you back.” I’m up on shaky feet with a clamoring heart. “Send his family flowers from Harper’s when you wake up. And work on finding a new web designer ASAP.”
“Gotcha.” Her concern is genuine. So is her yawn. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.” No. Absolutely not. How can someone be attracted to a monster and be remotely okay? My head is spinning. And somehow, heat’s blooming between my legs. “Yes. Go to bed. We’ll catch up later.”
I hang up, and my phone drops from my hand.
The man I slept with actually killed another person. I believed his threats this morning, I just never thought he’d…
I don’t know what I thought.
