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“I can make things difficult for you . . . for this place . . . all it would take is a word in the wrong people’s ears.”
“Get . . . out . . . now!” Steele thundered.
She jumped again and Lex took hold of her arm. She shook his hand off her. “Get your filthy hand off me.” She stormed out.
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she goes,” Lex said.
“Make sure she goes quietly. And not out the front,” Grady said. “She’s likely to try and make a scene.”
“Oh, I know. That bitch is all about the drama.” Lex turned and walked away.
“Think she’ll be trouble?” Grady asked.
“Her? No. What’s the worst she can do?”
Hmm. A woman scorned? Probably more than they thought.
27
Effie woke with a thumping headache.
Opening her eyes, she glanced around, unsure where she was.
She was in a bed. In a dark room. Her heart raced until her brain fully understood that this room was familiar.
This was Brooks’ bedroom.
But why was she in his bedroom and not her own bed? And where was Brooks? And why did she have a bad feeling in her stomach?
There was a knock on the door.
“Come in.”
She sat up as Brooks entered the bedroom, carrying a tray. On it was a plate of buttery toast. Yum. And coffee.
“You made me breakfast in bed? You didn’t need to do that. You’re too good to me.” She reached for the coffee as he set the tray down on the nightstand and took a sip.
Ahh. That was perfection. Brooks knew exactly how she liked her coffee.
“Um, actually, I figured you’d probably need coffee this morning,” he said hesitantly.
She watched him closely. “Does whatever you’re about to tell me have something to do with why I’m in your bed? And why I have a bit of memory blank about how I got here?”
“Ah, yeah.”
“Oh God, just tell me.” The dread was almost too much to bear.
“You don’t remember getting into my bed because, uh, you were asleep.”
“Asleep?” How could she get into bed if she was asleep?
“Uh-huh, and, uh, Mr. Steele carried you to bed.”
“Oh my God, no,” she breathed out.
“Yes.”
“No.”
