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“I have it on good authority. Now. I want you to get dressed, pack whatever you need, and come with me.”
Sydney couldn’t keep her mouth from falling open. “Ex-excuse me? Who the heck do you think you are, just showing up at my house and demanding that I come with you? Does that work on other women? Are you secretly a serial killer who is going to bag me and tag me and uh- stuff me in your trunk? Does that actually work with the ladies, Francis?”
The guy took a step forward and muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, heaven save me from idiots. “Look, Miss. I have my instructions. They were to come to your house, which I know is registered to you because my firm never makes mistakes. I was given a list of places to take you to prepare you and then I’m to drive you to the airport where you will be put on a private jet and flown to Philadelphia.”
“What?” Sydney’s head already felt like a soupy mess, and this guy’s strange statement and freaky familiar confidence wasn’t helping. The fact that he was now standing inside her house was absolutely terrifying.
“I’m- I’m going to give you, like, ten seconds to get out of here before I call the cops,” Sydney said. She tried to force her voice to come out hard and commanding, but it shook like she was a scared little girl. Okay, so she was a scared not so little girl.
Francis not Francis rolled his eyes again. He muttered a few more choice words under his breath before he pulled out his phone again. He flipped to the camera roll and turned it around. He held it proffered there, outstretched between them like a gift. A gift of a rattlesnake that would strike, no doubt.
Still, Sydney couldn’t help herself. She’d never been able to help herself. Her mom always said that her wild spirit would lead her straight to hell one day. Or more like it would get her into trouble. That’s what her mom said, but at the moment, Sydney felt like she was going straight to hell.
Because there, on the guy’s phone, was a screenshot of her social media status, made sometime in the blacked-out hours, straight from a soul that was filled with regrets, pounded out by nimble fingertips known to make bad decisions from time to blacked-out time. That status was straight from the movie h-e- double hockey sticks.
It’s been ten years. You made me a promise. If the offer still stands, I’d like to take you up on it.
Sydney’s stomach sank straight to the bottom of her toes and she was pretty sure it was going to be a bloody miracle if she didn’t throw up all over the guy’s fancy, shiny black shoes and pressed dress pants.
Holy freakin’ guacamole, Francis not Francis was there to drag her off to get hitched.
CHAPTER 3
Jesse
“You’re whating what? Getting what? Married?”
Jesse winced as his mother swept into his office without bothering to knock. Of course, since she was his mom and his secretary, Crystal, a twenty-two-year-old who’d just graduated college and was thrilled to get a decent job with a decent company, was easily swayed with bribes of chocolate chip cookies, angel food cake, and cherry tarts. No matter how many times he told her not to let anyone back into his office without calling him first, she didn’t seem to understand that his mom was included in that category.
Even though he’d just had a conversation with her a few days before and specifically told her.
There his mom stood, in front of his desk, her hands at her hips. His mom was one of those cute old lady types, about five feet tall. She was a little on the rounder side, something she was always complaining about, but to him, she was cute. She was his mom. She was always perfect, no matter what. She had the kindest face, cheeks that were always flushed with life, brown eyes that always sparkled, dark hair she dyed each month, done in a chin length bob that was oddly fashionable. She hadn’t given up her favorite jeans and those mom type tops with the faded flowers on the front, even though when the company took off, he’d bought them a new house and gifted them a bank account to take care of it.
Sylvia Samson never failed to have a perpetual smile on her face, so it was more than a little comical to see her standing there, trying to be stern. Her lips pursed and she gave him one of her toughest mom looks, a look that hadn’t worked on him since he was six years old.
Even when she threatened spankings, she was too much of a softie to really follow through with more than a slight tap or a swat.
