Page 3 of The Ruckup
The headache I've been trying my best to get a handle on throbs deep in my skull. "He's not my ex-husband yet."
Despite my best efforts, Drake’s managing to find every way possible to drag our divorce out. I’m not fighting him on anything. We have a prenup that says if we're married under five years, I walk away with nothing, and that's fine with me. I'm just glad to be walking away instead of being taken away in a body bag.
And, looking back, that was probably more of a possibility than I realized. One I probably came way closer to experiencing than I care to think about.
"Well if that party gets too boring, you just call us, and we’ll come get you." Sharon stands, hands going to her hips. "That goes for any other time you need rescuing." She steps closer, eyes sharp on mine. "You grab that phone and you call my number. I'll be there in a heartbeat.” She leans over the desk, voice deadly serious when she adds on, “And I've got nothing to lose."
My eyes widen, because right now, if anyone sounds like they might have been in the mafia, it’s Sharon.
"If you say you'll make Drake swim with the fishes, I might have a mental breakdown." I can handle a lot of things—I think I've proven that over and over these past few months—but finding out the job I'm already struggling to prove I can handle involves negotiating with mobsters might send me spiraling.
Sharon snorts, rolling her eyes. "First of all, none of us owns a boat." She meets my gaze. "And second, why go to all that work when you can just feed him to the alligators?"
Is she kidding? I can't tell if she's kidding.
Worse, I can't tell if I'm completely opposed to the idea. Not after everything he's put me through.
Deep down, a part of me finds comfort in the thought of Drake being gone permanently. Of never having to worry about him again. I should probably feel bad about that, but after spending my whole life trying to make everyone else happy, I'm going to consider it personal growth.
"She's still joking." Sylvia's voice is loud and abrupt. "If that jackass ever disappears it's probably because he decided to leave the country. Definitely not because anyone kidnapped him, chopped him up into pieces, and sprinkled him across the Everglades."
My eyes drag around the room. "That sounded oddly specific." And it has a pit forming in my stomach. I've spent my life being the nice girl. The one who never said anything bad about anybody. It wasn't by design, it was because I genuinely believed people were good. I thought evil and horrible humans were in the minority.
Imagine my surprise when I found out I was sleeping right next to one of them.
“Ignore them.” Betty waves at her friends dismissively. "Are you sure you want to go to that party? You could just claim sickness and go out with us instead."
Even though I'm a little scared they might not be as joking as they claim about this whole Mafia and murder thing we've been discussing, I genuinely appreciate how much they’re trying to be here for me. And if it were another night, I would absolutely take them up on their offer.
But I can't.
Sighing, I check the clock and see that my workday is done and I've got to go home and start getting ready.
“I promised my parents I’d go with them, and they’ll be really disappointed if I back out." My relationship with my parents is…strained. I feel like tonight might be a good step toward repairing the damage done while I was blind enough to think Drake was looking out for my best interests, instead of slowly alienating me from everyone I could lean on. “And I’m going to get to see people I haven’t talked to in years.”
My parents have a tight circle of friends, and it will be nice to catch up with them. See how everyone is doing.
Is there one person in particular I’m most interested in getting my eyeballs on? Maybe. But no one needs to know that.
I’m not trying to find myself a new man. That’s the last thing I need or want. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t hoping to see my childhood playmate Leo Casselini in the flesh. Find out if the professional rugby player looks just as big and brawny in person as he does on TV.
It’s not like I’m going to actually talk to him. I doubt he even remembers I exist, so what’s the harm in doing a little ogling? A little fantasizing that he’ll whisk me away from the awfulness my life has become.
It’s not like that’s actually going to happen. I’m not that lucky.
2
Seducing Miss Miller
Leo
“I’M GOING TO tell her I make more money than you, and you better fucking back me up.” I scan the crowd packing my parents’ house, looking for any sign of the dark-haired woman who walked in an hour ago.
“I have lied to your own mother for you.” My best friend, Gavin, holds up two fingers. “Twice.”
I grin at the reminder of our unruly high school years. “And I expect you to lie to her again when she asks if you saw me talking to Miss Miller.”
“Fuck, Leo.” Gavin rakes a hand through his dark hair. “Your mom told you to stay away from her and you were going to throw me under the bus?”
