Page 45 of The Billionaire and His Forever

Bowen opens the back door and slides in next to me, briefcase first. After she closes the door, she digs around in her blazer pocket and then hands me a pack of tissues. For some reason, this makes me cry harder.

“It’ll be okay,” she soothes, somewhat awkwardly. I’d bet anything that her usual clientele are power-hungry rich men charged with white collar crimes, not emotional young women wrongfully accused of attempted murder. “I wasn’t bluffing back there—they don’t have anything on you except a bunch of baseless accusations, which are questionable at best. They need actual evidence if they want to prosecute, and they won’t get it.”

I nod, blotting ineffectually at the black mascara tracks on my cheeks. “This isn’t fair.”

Her expression hardens again. “Fair is a bullshit notion. It doesn’t exist. You can be just. You can be balanced. You can be considerate. But rarely is anything in life fair.”

Wow. This woman really isn’t one to sugarcoat things. I think I can see why Graham calls her a friend. He never did like being kowtowed to.

“I’ll have you dropped off at the apartment in Central Park West.” Bowen rifles around in her briefcase and produces a single key with a dark blue tag attached, labeled RATLIFF - MANHATTAN. “Natasha won’t be there, obviously. She’ll be under observation at the hospital for the time being. We’ll be notified when the doctors say she can be released.”

Staying in the apartment here in the city? Alone? My stomach drops. No way in hell am I going. That’s Natasha’s home turf, even if Graham technically owns the place.

“But what about Jude?” I protest. “I have to take care of her. That’s my job.”

Bowen is already shaking her head. “You need to stay in the City until you’re fully cleared by the police, so going back upstate is out of the question.”

“What if Natasha gets out early and comes home?” I fret.

“She just woke up from a coma. That bitch isn’t going anywhere. Pardon my French. “

That gets me to crack a smile. I think Bowen’s irreverence is growing on me, too.

“In the meantime,” she goes on, pulling out her phone and tapping at the screen, “we’ll have to find a temp nanny for Jude. Maybe one of the staff up there can handle it.”

“But she needs me,” I protest.

Bowen lowers her phone and looks back at me, very seriously. “Listen to me, Abbie. You cannot leave New York City. As a suspect in an attempted murder investigation, there are procedures in place that you cannot sidestep. Part of proving your innocence is playing by the rules, irrespective of the fact that they’re being implemented on the basis of false accusations.”

“God. Do you always talk like that? I bet you’re incredible to watch in a courtroom,” I find myself blurting.

I wasn’t trying to be funny, but Bowen throws back her head in a cackle. “I’m flattered. Maybe I’ll invite you sometime. Let me just make a few calls and we’ll get Jude squared away.”

“Wait. We can hire Amanda. My best friend. She came up for the wedding, so she’s already at the estate.”

“Great. I’ll get on it,” she says.

A dagger twists in my heart as I think about how much Jude has already suffered this summer. With her parents fighting, her mom being hospitalized, Graham’s unexplained “business trip,” and now my arrest, her entire life has been turned upside down over and over again. Knowing Amanda will be at her side is the only comfort I have.

Bowen starts to tell the driver where the apartment is, but then holds up a finger.

“Wait one second.” She answers her vibrating cell, brows knit together. “This is Bowen… Mm. Fabulous. I’ll be right there.”

When she hangs up, she gives me a sympathetic look. I immediately think the worst.

“I have to go back in there?”

Smiling wryly, she says, “Nope. But I do. To get your husband.”

“What?”

Bowen kicks open the car door with her red-soled Louboutin. “He’s been arrested for assault and battery.”

“Shit.” I slump in the seat.

“Couldn’t have said it better myself. Looks like you and Graham are turning into a real Bonnie and Clyde. A match made in heaven. Just sit tight.”

With another strained smile, Bowen takes off.

---