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I should take comfort in his words, but I can’t.
I’m the one who didn’t
tell Jeremy about my past. He should have heard it from me, not from Mitchell.
He slides a business card from the back pocket of his jeans. “Here’s my card. Give me a call when you’re ready. We’ll meet for a coffee and talk shop.”
I watch him leave my office, wishing I could follow him, but I can’t. I have to give West time with his friend, and I have to face the one man who promised he’d always protect me.
I wipe the tears from my face, pick up my phone and head straight for my dad’s office.
Sooner or later he’ll show up and I’ll be there waiting with all of the questions I need answers to.
Chapter 46
Jeremy
I should be drowning my sorrows in a bottle of Rizon vodka right now, but my palm is cupped around a coffee. I’m at the café around the corner from Linny’s office.
I couldn’t make it past this point, so I barked at Trent to get back to the office to take my meeting with a supplier, and I landed here.
I reached out to Rocco because he’s the only person I know who will help me make sense of this.
He walks through the door with a smile on his face.
For fuck’s sake. Why does he have to look so happy when I feel like my world is upside down?
He stalks over to the counter and places an order.
The barista strikes up a conversation with him. I can’t hear a word, but her body language says it all.
She wants more than the few dollars he shoved into the coffee mug in front of her marked tips .
Rocco’s used to the attention. I am too, but the difference now is that I don’t engage women in idol chatter anymore. I don’t seek out the in that will move things from a casual conversation to a casual fuck.
I haven’t given in to the temptation in months because of Linny.
I close my eyes against the urge to call her.
I want answers.
I want her.
Jesus, all I want is her.
“Jeremy.”
I open my eyes to see Rocco lowering himself into the seat across from me, two cups of coffee in his hands.
He slides one to me. “The barista made you another on the house. She said you looked like you could use it.”
I glance down at the side of the cup and what’s written there in blue ink.
Heather.
Followed by a New York based phone number.
I huff out a laugh. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me?”
