Page 57 of Flames of Fortune


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I grabbed my keys, my phone, and my sweater before I headed outside. The slightest chill bit at the air.

Nodding to the doorman, I headed outside. Did I want a cab or to take the subway? If I already called a ride service, it would be fine, but it would take too long at this point. If a cab happened to be outside, that might work just as well. I could…

“Bridget.” A voice I never expected to hear again called my name and I froze. I didn’t turn to look. I didn’t move. I didn’t breathe.

Did I imagine it?No, that happened. I turned around to find Michael Li standing on the street next to my building. He stepped away from the brick where he’d been leaning, and it was like I forgot how amazing he looked in person. Like my memories, but so much better, damn him. There he was, Michael. Tall, buff, gorgeous. Dressed all in black. I swallowed hard.

I took him in then finally let myself breathe.Okay. He is here.I could function. I just had to. My head was so thick, so unable to think. I just stared at him and tried not to cry because I missed looking at him, which made no sense.

I still hadn’t spoken.Great way to make it awkward, Bridget.

“Hi.”There, at least I said something.

“Hi. Yeah.” He ran a hand through his hair. It was slightly longer than I was used to seeing it, and I remembered how it felt in between my fingers while I gripped his head and he kissed between my legs until I screamed his name. I swallowed again. “Are you okay?”

Am I okay?Absolutely not. “Sure.”

I turned and left him there. I didn’t have to talk to him or give him any more information. Michael didn’t get to ask me how I was doing.No.Almost a year since I last saw him, and he dumped me then so…No.

“Bridget.” He chased after me as I headed toward the subway. “Please, wait. I was hoping I could speak to you. Please. I have a lot of things I need to explain. Can you give me a second so I can? I mean, I know I don’t get to ask, but could you do that anyway?”

I stopped. I didn’t want him following me all the way to the subway. I really didn’t. It had to end.What is he even doing here?I wouldn’t know if I didn’t let him tell me.

I promised myself, though, if he even hinted at insulting me again, I would break his fucking nose and he wouldn’t even see it coming. The thought made a small smile curl my lips, so I answered, “I have five minutes before I’ll be late for a doctor’s appointment.”

He shook his head. “I think it’s going to take longer than that.”

“Bummer for you. Bye, Michael.” I moved to slip past him, and he grabbed my arm gently.

“Are you okay, Bridget? A doctor?”

I stared at his hand. “Let me go.”

To his credit, he released me immediately, his hand falling to his side.

I didn’t owe him an answer but I said, “I’m going to the sleep doctor to find out how to stop snoring.”

His eyes widened. “Why would you do that?”

“Bye, Michael.” I left him standing there on the street. If my hands shook and my blood pressure was just a tiny bit high when I got to the doctor, well, I didn’t have to attribute that to him at all. It was just something else. I’d be in denial. That was my right if I wanted.

* * *

The next timeI saw him was outside of my work. I was getting ready to run home. I started doing it to get an extra run in every week. Dressed in my workout clothes, I felt bizarrely vulnerable seeing him. Ten minutes earlier, I would’ve been in a suit that screamed power and control, but he caught me in spandex.

It had been three days, so why had I convinced myself he would leave me alone?

He pushed off the wall where he leaned and walked over to me. “Is now a good time? I didn’t want to interrupt.”

I wanted to run, but it wasn’t essential. If I actually wanted to listen, it was as good of a time as any. “Sure.”

He stared at me for a long moment. “Bridget, the threat to your life is over.”

Well, good to know.“What happened? Political change in the Bratva or something?”

He blinked. “No, I didn’t realize…I mean I guess I should have, because how could you know.” He took a visible deep breath. “Bridget, it wasn’t the Russians who poisoned you. It was Sylvie.”

I stared at him, my mind stalling to a stop before flooding with a thousand questions. “What?”

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