world had made her sign up for a marathon. Because
you love to run. Now get your ass in gear. She slipped on her shoes and
headed down to the gym on the first floor.
She knew better than to attempt a run outside. Even
she wasn’t that reckless. Though Caleb no doubt thought she was. He’d been so
pissed last night. He was probably angrier after she’d slammed the door in his
face. She winced at the memory. Maybe that was overkill. But in her defense,
she’d been nursing the mother of all migraines, and he’d been in the mood for a
lecture. And, well, it wasn’t really his business. But between the car, the
flowers, and the rat, she had trouble. Now she had to figure out what to do
about it. The cops would dig everything up about her past if she went to them,
and it would become common knowledge. But better her past be known than she
meet her maker, even if it was in a pair of killer heels.
Today was not a good day for running. Every mile,
every step, every breath was a chore. Her legs wouldn’t cooperate. With every
leaden stomp, her muscles threatened to cramp. Oh hell, who was she kidding? She
felt like ass.
She hit the stop button and jumped off while the
treadmill was still moving. She’d only gone six miles. Nowhere near the eleven
she needed for this training day. She’d have to make it up later today.
By the time she was ready and into work, her head
was clearer, but her mood was just as sour. Seeing her car was enough to put
her in a yelling mood. When she figured out who was behind the vandalism, they’d
find themselves making nice with the sole of her stilettos before being thrown
into a very large ditch with a mountain of dirt piled on top of them—if Jaya
and Ricca didn’t beat her to it first. Though Ricca was kind of soft and might
insist on jail before death. Micha liked the ditch idea much better.
When she walked in, Ryan was standing by his desk
waiting for her. She mustered a smile. “Wow standing at the ready. How Devil Wears Prada of you. I can be your barracuda boss, if
you want. Could you do me a favor and call the police? Ask for Sargent Romero. See
if they can come on over now instead of later. I need to file a police report.”
“Uhm, Miss Bennett—”
“Micha. I told you to call me Micha.” She didn’t
pause in her stride. All she wanted to do was get into her office and sit down.”
“M-Micha, they’re already here.”
“Say what?” She stopped so abruptly her Louboutins
snagged on the carpet, pitching her backward onto her ass. She landed with a
soft thud, spilling the contents of her Kate Spade satchel purse.
Ryan sprang into action, collecting her things and
helping her up. “Uhm there’s one more thing,” he said in a hushed whisper.
“Can it wait, Ryan? I need to make two calls.”
“But—”
Micha strode into her office then wrenched to a
halt as her chair swiveled around. Her heart seized, and she stared at the
too-handsome-for-his-own-good blond man in her chair. Oh.
Fuck. Me .
Simon Jax . Though now,
most of the world knew him as Jax, movie star extraordinaire. The edges of her
peripheral vision grayed. She fought the panic by taking three deep breaths. She
could do this. How hard could it be? Open your mouth and
speak. What the fuck was he doing here?
“It seems like you’re lost,” she muttered.
Slowly he shook his head, a slight smile tugging
at his lips. “Nope. I’m right where I want to be.”
“How the hell did you even get in here?” That
sounded a little combative. “I mean, what are you doing here?”
“What? I can’t want to see you?”
“Not after six years you can’t. Not after the way
everything ended you can’t. Certainly not after what your wife did to me you
can’t.”
He winced, then stood up smoothly. “Micha. I’m so
sorry about everything that happened with Trisha. I never got the opportunity
to speak to you then.”
She folded her arms across her chest. “Yeah, well.
I wasn’t really in the mood for
you love to run. Now get your ass in gear. She slipped on her shoes and
headed down to the gym on the first floor.
She knew better than to attempt a run outside. Even
she wasn’t that reckless. Though Caleb no doubt thought she was. He’d been so
pissed last night. He was probably angrier after she’d slammed the door in his
face. She winced at the memory. Maybe that was overkill. But in her defense,
she’d been nursing the mother of all migraines, and he’d been in the mood for a
lecture. And, well, it wasn’t really his business. But between the car, the
flowers, and the rat, she had trouble. Now she had to figure out what to do
about it. The cops would dig everything up about her past if she went to them,
and it would become common knowledge. But better her past be known than she
meet her maker, even if it was in a pair of killer heels.
Today was not a good day for running. Every mile,
every step, every breath was a chore. Her legs wouldn’t cooperate. With every
leaden stomp, her muscles threatened to cramp. Oh hell, who was she kidding? She
felt like ass.
She hit the stop button and jumped off while the
treadmill was still moving. She’d only gone six miles. Nowhere near the eleven
she needed for this training day. She’d have to make it up later today.
By the time she was ready and into work, her head
was clearer, but her mood was just as sour. Seeing her car was enough to put
her in a yelling mood. When she figured out who was behind the vandalism, they’d
find themselves making nice with the sole of her stilettos before being thrown
into a very large ditch with a mountain of dirt piled on top of them—if Jaya
and Ricca didn’t beat her to it first. Though Ricca was kind of soft and might
insist on jail before death. Micha liked the ditch idea much better.
When she walked in, Ryan was standing by his desk
waiting for her. She mustered a smile. “Wow standing at the ready. How Devil Wears Prada of you. I can be your barracuda boss, if
you want. Could you do me a favor and call the police? Ask for Sargent Romero. See
if they can come on over now instead of later. I need to file a police report.”
“Uhm, Miss Bennett—”
“Micha. I told you to call me Micha.” She didn’t
pause in her stride. All she wanted to do was get into her office and sit down.”
“M-Micha, they’re already here.”
“Say what?” She stopped so abruptly her Louboutins
snagged on the carpet, pitching her backward onto her ass. She landed with a
soft thud, spilling the contents of her Kate Spade satchel purse.
Ryan sprang into action, collecting her things and
helping her up. “Uhm there’s one more thing,” he said in a hushed whisper.
“Can it wait, Ryan? I need to make two calls.”
“But—”
Micha strode into her office then wrenched to a
halt as her chair swiveled around. Her heart seized, and she stared at the
too-handsome-for-his-own-good blond man in her chair. Oh.
Fuck. Me .
Simon Jax . Though now,
most of the world knew him as Jax, movie star extraordinaire. The edges of her
peripheral vision grayed. She fought the panic by taking three deep breaths. She
could do this. How hard could it be? Open your mouth and
speak. What the fuck was he doing here?
“It seems like you’re lost,” she muttered.
Slowly he shook his head, a slight smile tugging
at his lips. “Nope. I’m right where I want to be.”
“How the hell did you even get in here?” That
sounded a little combative. “I mean, what are you doing here?”
“What? I can’t want to see you?”
“Not after six years you can’t. Not after the way
everything ended you can’t. Certainly not after what your wife did to me you
can’t.”
He winced, then stood up smoothly. “Micha. I’m so
sorry about everything that happened with Trisha. I never got the opportunity
to speak to you then.”
She folded her arms across her chest. “Yeah, well.
I wasn’t really in the mood for
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