Page 91 of Mr. Devereaux


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Me

Yeah. Kinda short notice

Devon

Back up for just a second. You never take women to the manor. Who is she?

There’s a whole can of worms right there.

Me

A woman I met

Devon

Obviously, dickhead. I mean, what’s her name

Me

Charlize. She’s the woman I met the night of my party

Devon

You mean the hooker?

Anger boils in my blood. She’s not a fucking hooker.

I pick up my phone from the desk and dial.

“Don’t ever call her a hooker or I swear to fucking God…”

“Woah, man. Hold the boat. I was just making a joke, and I hate to point it out to you, but she was hired to please you.”

“That didn’t happen.” Well, it did, just not in the way he thinks.

“Yeah, obviously, since you’re now taking her to the Cotswolds.”

“About that night. I need you to keep this between us.”

“I’m all ears, old boy.”

“The night of my party, I ran into my ex-stepdaughter.” My God, I hate saying those words. It makes me feel like a fucking creep.

“Oh, geez. That’s bad luck. What was she doing there, anyway?”

“She was the escort.”

There’s silence for a few seconds.

I brace myself.

“Holy shit!” He starts to laugh. “Get outta here?”

“I wish I was kidding.”

“And you fucked her?”

“Not that night, no. I didn’t know who she was, the last time I saw her she was a teenager.”

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