Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
“Funny. Since we were talking about my momma,” I muttered. Madison always went there. Made me feel like I hadn’t supported her. And I’d never looked at another woman since I set eyes on her.
Maybe having her arrested was a cheap shot. But I’d been thorough, explaining my conditions to a friend on the force, a lieutenant. Dude had shaken his head and said, You’re asking her to torment you so that you can initiate Operation Second Chance? Actually, she’s gonna straight-up murder you and haunt you for eternity. Good job. At least it makes our job easier to charge her when we find your remains.
I hadn’t responded to that. My mind focused on missing my woman. I’d told him:
Have uniformed cops pick Madison up.
Sit her ass in an interrogation room and under no circumstances place her in a holding cell.
Softly question her for an hour prior to my arrival.
The final rule was the most important. She has that mouth of hers, but ensure your people use their elevator voices during the entire questioning. And yes, that was a repeat of my confirming he understood his people had better whisper their words like a cool, gentle breeze.
I cleared my throat. “I have a proposal for you, chère.”
“Hard pass. But I’m good with your momma as my prison roomie. We can protect each other.” She chuckled.
“Alright, I’m through.” As I rose, I gestured to a corner. Madison nearly snapped her neck to view a small surveillance camera behind her.
The Rook and his partner entered.
“Detain her for a few days. Omit her from the court docket.” I let my voice drift to the woman I’d hurt. She’d hurt me too. But I had plans for us.
“Wh-what?” Madison gasped.
“I’m giving you some time to reconsider my suggestion.”
“What suggestion?” she snarled.
I removed a piece of paper from inside my blazer and smiled. “Damn, I forgot to show this to you.”
Her look told me she remembered that a man like me, Judge W. Babineaux, forgot nothing.
I came around, placed the paper down and whispered in her ear. “Just like you forgot you wanted zilch in the divorce when doing your whole, He left me penniless, woe is me crap talk at the beauty shop.”
“Oh, I did that, didn’t I? Do you know how many hot wing and fish fry plates I got for free while getting my hair done?” She offered a smug smile, but it vanished as her pretty dark brown eyes zipped over the contract. She must’ve been weeding out the legal jargon. Hell, I taught her that.
“Three dates?” she whispered. “Why would you want me to date you?”
“For my image, Maddy.” I growled, selling the lie as my lips grazed the shell of her ear. She trembled. God, I wanted her back even though she wanted nothing to do with me after our son died. I never could reach her through all that pain. But since I couldn’t bring up our child’s name without her head spinning around, I leaned into the excuse I’d chosen. “People think that with my career and my connections, I left you with nothing.”
Which wasn’t true. Demons named depression and delusion told Maddy not to take anything. And the only ones gossiping were Latoya Lace Front and Shanaynay with the Silk-press. Both hairstylists were not only lethal with a flatiron, but their mouths. Not that I cared what people thought, but I needed Maddy to buy the lie to spend time alone with me.
I’d gotten the idea from my younger brother, Montana. He’d had an incident while playing baseball for the LA Dodgers and needed to fix his reputation. Fake dating was the solution. He didn’t last a month before he caught feelings for the woman who was living in hiding with her son and working at his restaurant. Now he was getting married. If it worked for him, it would work for me. The only difference was he’d marry his girl for the first time. I’d marry mine a thousand times, and we weren’t fake dating. The contract specifically outlined how real this would be.
“Three dates,” I said, and then you get to pick our next wedding venue.
“No. Never!”
“Here’s where I mumble, Aww, okay, like a Lifetime ex-husband.” I nodded to the detectives. “Call me on Thursday.”
“Bu-but today is Friday.” Madison lurched out of her seat. The chains on her wrists contained her.
“I think it’s Saturday morning by now, chère.” I approached the door, and a lock clicked.
“You said a couple of days?”
“Yes, before your name goes on the docket. All the judges watch Law & Order reruns on the weekends. The original, not the Special Victims Unit.”
Detective Frick and Frack chuckled at that.
Madison glared at them as if salty they didn’t laugh at her earlier SVU joke. She sneered, “So y’all do get your notes on being cops from the original?”