Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56591 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56591 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
I’ve always tried to be independent. Never relied on a man. But I can’t ignore the fact that I felt special when he came to my defense.
The dots vanish and don’t come back. Just send the message, Dom! Maybe he thinks he’s gone too far or that he’s just as bad as Kenny. Maybe, maybe, maybe…
I pull my hair loose from its bun, remembering what he said about it being messy and sexy. Tussling it a little, I tuck it behind my ears, then go to the nearest mirror, snapping a selfie before I can think better of it. I send the photo to him with the message.
Izzy: These are beautiful, thank you. But I do kind of wish they were sticking a little, so you had to put them on for me.
He sees the message immediately, then replies.
Dominic Vale: They look stunning. Just like you.
Izzy: Thank you. You didn’t have to do that, though.
I sit on the couch, crossing my legs, a silly, reckless smile on my face.
Izzy: I don’t need special favors.
Dominic Vale: It’s not about what you need, Izzy. It’s about what I wanted to do, and I wanted to give you a gift. Don’t overthink it.
Of course, he has the luxury of saying that. He can only see parts of the puzzle. God, I feel sick just thinking about that. I need to stop this somehow, but what about Grandma? Maybe if I came clean to Dom, he might help me.
No, that’s dreamland thinking. If he knew I was only in his company to destroy it from the inside, he’d hate me, rightfully so.
Izzy: Well, thank you. It means a lot.
Dominic Vale: You’re welcome. How’s your grandma today?
Izzy: I’m touched you’d ask. She was alert earlier, for a while at least. There isn’t much I can do except visit her and be there for her. But it never feels like enough.
Dominic Vale: I’m sure you’re doing great. Do you have anybody to help? To visit her when you can’t?
That sick feeling returns. Lies stacked on lies.
Izzy: I have an uncle, but he’s never been supportive. Only ever looks out for himself. But yeah, he visits her sometimes.
Dominic Vale: I’m sorry, that’s all you have. You deserve better than that. A support system. Family to help you through these tough times.
Izzy: It’s fine. It’s life. It’s just the way it is. I can’t do anything except put one foot in front of the other.
Dominic Vale: Amen to that. This might sound strange because we only met recently, but I’m proud of you.
I blink back tears. I need to stop this, but I can’t.
Izzy: There’s something I need to tell you.
I type, then quickly delete. Instead, I say something else.
Izzy: I need to get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.
Dominic Vale: Sleep well. I know I won’t.
Izzy: Why not?
More dots appear, then disappear.
Finally.
Dominic Vale: Because you’re there and I’m here.
I put my phone face down, smoothing my hands over my stomach. Soon, Aaron’s going to lose his patience. If he ever learns something is going on between Dom and me—whatever this is—he’ll know I have access to more information than I’m letting on.
God, family is complicated.
CHAPTER 8
DOMINIC
Aaron Pike sits opposite me, the morning sunlight shining on his bald head. He has some kind of product in his beard, making that shine too. Ethan and my executive team are with me, and Aaron has his lackeys with him. But as we stare at each other across the boardroom, it might as well be just the two of us.
He leans forward, aiming a finger gun at me. “So, what you’re telling me, you upstanding citizen, is that you keep getting these land grants because politicians want to do the right thing. Is that it?”
“I know that’s a strange concept to you,” I say, keeping my voice even. “But some people don’t want to torture innocent folks just because they are poor. Maybe they believe they deserve to live in a place without mold and where the toilets work.”
Aaron raises his hands, the picture of innocence. “I didn’t know you were such a bleeding heart.”
“Let’s keep this professional, Pike,” Ethan grunts from beside me.
“I just think we can work something out,” Aaron says, refusing to look at me. “A way for you to do good, a way for us to make some money. We need to talk about sharing our resources.”
I shake my head in disbelief. “Perhaps you ought to tell McDonald’s to give the Big Mac patent to Burger King. Share our resources… we all know that means you want to pillage my company, take what you can, then bleed this city dry.”
“You’re spread thin,” Aaron snaps. “The West Coast, commercials, these Good Samaritan projects. Do you seriously think you can keep this up forever? Eventually, something will have to give.”