Page 22 of Mine This Time
When it came to my career, I’d kind of stumbled into my online journalism job. During college, I’d ended up working for one of the college newspapers mostly because I had a crush on a guy who worked there. He turned out to be an asshole—I seemed to have an excellent radar for assholes—but he left his job at the paper, and I stayed on. It wasn’t great money, but it was enough for me to cover my bills and much more flexible than many other jobs. Although my brother was loaded now, back then, we were both scrambling just to get by.
After that, I’d gone on to get my graduate degree in journalism. It certainly wasn’t the most lucrative field, but I enjoyed writing. My current job gave me a lot of flexibility. I could travel and had my pick of subject matters to explore for the most part—and when you add to that I had a supportive boss, it was a great fit. Maybe I was close to broke at the moment, and maybe I needed to figure out what the hell was next, but I had work. For the moment, I also had a place to stay.
The second I thought about just how temporary my living situation was, my mind spun onto dueling tracks of anxiety. I needed a plan because this wasn’t a long-term prospect. There was plenty to worry about in that category. Then, there was Nash. It was sooooo not smart to be crushing on him. It didn’t seem to matter if it was smart. My body and heart weren’t getting the memo. I was totally crushing on him. Hard.
Merely thinking about our kiss had me leaping out of my chair and pacing restlessly in front of the windows. I didn’t even know what to think of his misplaced chivalry. I definitely knew what I thought about him worrying about what my brother might think. For God’s sake, Max had too many opinions about my love life. It stung a little bit. My pride had taken a big hit to the chin with Brett.
How the hell could Brett figure out where I was staying? That bothered me. A lot. I’d already changed my passwords on every single account I had. I just hoped he hadn’t done something I couldn’t find.
As if the universe was mocking me, my phone rang, the vibration on the table loud from where I was pacing back and forth in front of the windows. Striding back to the table, I glanced down at the screen. An unfamiliar number flashed there.
All worries about Brett aside, I never answered unknown calls. The deluge of robocalls, often masked, was exhausting and had trained me to be highly skeptical. Returning my phone to the table, I waited to see if whoever called left a message. Once the banner showed a voicemail, I hit play.
“Hey, babe. It’s Brett. This is a temporary number. I don’t know what the deal is with you and Nash Reynolds, but we need to talk. Call me as soon as you get this.”
I almost hit delete before considering that perhaps I should save the message in case anything weird happened. Setting my phone back down on the table, I muttered, “I’m not your fucking babe.”
There was no way in hell I was going to call Brett.
Chapter Eleven
Nash
“What did you find?” I asked Trent.
Trent leaned back in his chair, drumming his fingertips on the leather armrest as he regarded me. “You’re not gonna like it.”
Narrowing my eyes, I replied, “Just hit me.”
“You already know all the financial info. He also opened four new credit cards in her name and applied for a business loan,” Trent explained. Trent was a private investigator I’d known for years. Whenever I needed to dig deeper into something, I turned to him for help.
“Okay, none of that’s all that unexpected given the situation. Anything else?”
“Yeah. Now you can add that he put a tracking chip on her phone. That’s how he traced her to your building.”
“What the fuck? Please tell me you already deactivated it.”
“If I deactivate it, he’ll know. Instead, I rerouted it to a burner phone I purchased. That phone is just going to sit with me during the day. I’ll drop it off with your security in the evening at your office building. That’s what we’ll do until you’re ready for us to cut bait.”
I was pissed. As Max had guessed, Brett was unquestionably using Mari. Not that I’d been wondering about that detail. She didn’t have a ton of money, in fact not very much at all, according to Max. As he put it, she stubbornly refused his help. Looking over at Trent, I shook my head slowly. “My best guess is he hopes to get investments through his connections with Mari. When he didn’t get what he wanted, he decided to ruin her credit instead of his.”
Trent nodded. “I can put a hold on everything he did money-wise under her name, but I need your clearance.”
“I need to talk to Mari first.”
This topic was dead last on the list of things I wanted to discuss with Mari. Brett was turning out to be more underhanded than I’d considered. For Mari’s sake, I had wanted this to be a clean break for her. His actions were making that difficult.
I promised Mari a good week in New Orleans. This topic was decidedly not good. Concern kept pinging through me every time I considered Brett showing up last night.
“Let me know when you talk to her. All she needs to do is put a freeze on her credit, and that’ll stop him in his tracks,” Trent said.
“Yeah, I know,” I said as I stood from my chair. “Thanks for your quick work, and I’ll talk to her today. I don’t want to delay on any of this.”
Moments later, I stepped out, the heavy afternoon heat only serving to add to my frustration. Not that I didn’t expect it, mind you. Louisiana was hot most of the time. My phone felt like it was burning a hole in my pocket. I wanted to call Max and run this by him before I talked to Mari, but I knew that would piss her off.
When I felt the vibration of my phone as I walked down the street, I slipped it out quickly and glanced down to see Hannah Grantham’s name flash on the screen. I didn’t hesitate to answer.
“Hey, Hannah, what can I do for you today?”
