Page 37 of Broken Headboards
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“I can’t say. We signed an NDA. However, I can tell you they’re based in New York State.”
It is fucking Tess. He didn’t even have to say more. My gut instincts know that it’s her.
Wow.
Bold fucking move, Ms. Armstrong.
I hang up on the bastard and slam my phone down on the desk.
Fuck.
She just messed with the wrong motherfucker on the wrong day.
I’m going to steamroll her little boutique business back to the Stone Age.
“Looks like you got your hands full bro,” Taylor says getting up from his chair.
“Don’t worry about me,” I say grimly, meeting his gaze.
That’s right. I’ll be fine.
He should worry about Tess once I find her.
