That damn minx had been a regular at the Obsidian Club.My favorite, so to speak.We’d talk in between pleasure, and I learned she was a solicitor working for some well-known celebrities.Names kept private, obviously.I had never seen her as a potential wife or anyone I’d date—perhaps because of the way we met—but I liked her enough.After six or so weeks, she walked in looking less vibrant than she normally did.Long story short, I asked if she was okay.
She burst into tears and told me she’d learned she had cancer.Terminal.That it would be a long, slow death, and she had huge debt...
Blah, fucking blah.
It took me a couple of phone calls the next day to learn it was all bullshit.Megan—or rather Tracey Dalton—was a scam artist.
And never got a dime from me, for the record.
“Well, excuse me if I have trust issues.I seem to attract the psychos.”I wipe my mouth with the napkin and rise to my feet.“I have to run.Thanks for the...therapy session.”
“I will talk to Em tonight.”
“Tell her I hope her new business venture and PA are working out.”I roll my eyes.
Colt chuckles.
“Mason,” Sebastian says firmly, stopping my departure, and I freeze.“The wedding is not far away.I don’t want Emily to worry.Are we going to be okay?”
Fuck.
This is what I wanted to avoid.
“Of course.It’s not like Lexi got the opportunity to rob me blind or kill me.We fucked once,” I lie.“We’ll both get over it.”
I tuck my jacket under my arm, and head out.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
LEXI
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“Hi, honey I’m home,” Sebastian calls out from the elevators as they ping open.
“I should go,” I whisper nervously.