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He's going to prison. Oh, it would probably be Club Fed, but he would have a couple of convictions and the fraud charges, and when the feds got involved, who knew what else they would find.
“You bitch.” His eyes nearly bulge out of his head.
It’s time to leave. I know when I’ve pushed delicate male sensibilities too far. I move for the door. “Good luck, Nick. I’ll put a call in to your team to let them know what’s going on. Somehow, I don’t think they’ll stick around. You’re going to be very busy with legal stuff.”
He moves in and I hear the admin gasp, but I hold my ground. If he’s going to get physical, that’s one more strike against him. His whole body is trembling with rage as he towers over me. “This isn’t over, Ivy.”
But it is. “I think I’ll let Lawyer handle you from now on. I’ve got a company to build.”
I turn and walk out even as I hear the admin pleading with him to take Norfolk’s call.
I take a deep breath as I get on the elevator and the doors close. I’m the only one in the car, and I close my eyes and let go of everything Nick Stafford did to me. It doesn’t matter because CeCe is going to handle it so I can do what I love. All I have to do now is listen to my gut.
The noise is gone, and there’s only instinct left. Two roads diverged. I can protect myself, pretend I’m protecting Heath because that article is still going to paint me as a man-eating incompetent who only got big because…feminism or some crap.
The doors open, and I walk out.
Heath is standing in the lobby. He hadn’t walked me over here. He’d let me do that on my own. He’d known I needed time, but he’s here now.
Or I can take the second road. I can believe. I can believe that this man loves me and we can build so much more than a company together. We can build a life. A real one with ups and downs and movie nights and work and friends and waking up next to him.
He smiles as I reach him and he holds up a bag. “Tacos. I thought taking down an asshole who ruined your life deserves tacos.”
He really is the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen. I go on my toes and brush my lips against his. “Ruin? Not even close. But I’ll take those tacos. And Heath, ask me in six months. No Emma required.”
His lips curl up. “Ask you? Oh, you’re talking proposal. Six months is a long time. Four weeks.”
Thank god. The man has a flaw. He’s impatient. We’ll have to work on that.
I chuckle and take the bag because those tacos smell delicious. “Four months and not a second sooner. You need time to make it good because we’re only doing this once, babe.”
He opens the door for me. “Oh, about that. I mean, I’ve asked a couple of women to marry me. Like four or five. No more than eight.”
He’s evil. “Sure you have. I know your grandmother. I’ve seen all of your baby pictures and I heard all about every girlfriend you’ve ever had.”
“I’m having such a talk with her,” Heath vows.
He takes my hand and we walk out into the sunshine, leaving the past behind.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
I’m shocked to see CeCe’s Rolls parked outside Lydia’s building when Heath and I walk up an hour later. We’d sat in a park and eaten the tacos he’d bought and then found an ice cream vendor. We’d talked for a long time and I’d told him everything about Nick and the confrontation and how nervous I am about the stupid article. The actual magazine is coming out next Tuesday, but it’s posting online…probably now. I don’t know. I haven’t looked at my phone. Which is weird for me.
He makes me not want to look at my phone.
“I don’t think you’re supposed to park here.” Heath frowns at Thomas.
There is no think about it. It’s clearly a loading and unloading only zone, but Thomas doesn’t seem to mind.
“I’ve been given the okay,” Thomas promises him. “See.”
He gestures to the doorman, who gives us a thumbs-up.
“What did CeCe tip him?” Heath mutters.
“The boss is a generous person,” Thomas explains and then nods my way. “Ivy, CeCe left Lawyer with that terrible man. She said it was far too many curse words for her tender ears and that the testosterone level in the room made her head ache. Also, Lady Buttercup needed fresh air.”
“So she came here?” Heath asks. “We’re a working office.”
That’s the moment the door opens and Ye Joon walks out, or rather is lead out by the Maltese who prances out like she owns the place. His eyes narrow on me. “I am not Dog Walker. You tell her she better start calling me Coder or Programmer. Not Dog Walker. I asked her why she never hands the dog off to Ria and she called me a sexist. It’s not sexist if we share the same crappy duties. It’s the opposite of sexist. This whole ‘only the man should handle the dog poop’ thing is sexist.”
