I half expected him to pull out a horrible Italian accent and tell me “I have an offer you can’t refuse.”
“And what would that be?” What could possibly be worth ruining someone’s career, including my own? Nothing.
“I heard your mom is sick.”
I sat there, unable to move. This man had serious connections if he’d found out my mom’s medical history and who I was just by having someone follow me.
“I will pay for all of her medical bills.”
I glared up at him, working to keep my mouth firmly shut. The one thing I desperately needed, and he was dishing it up on a silver platter. Mom wouldn’t even have to worry about paying off the bills. What would it be like to actually be able to buy things I wanted? Splurges on a new wardrobe, accessories, eating out. Things I ached to do. All for the small price of killing Brogan’s dream.
I folded my hands in my lap and stared at a tree in the distance, unable to look this man in the eyes. “Hell no.”
“I’ll let you reconsider that.” He pulled an envelope from inside his suit jacket and handed it to me, true mafia style. “A position with your name on it is ready at my firm, if you so choose.”
I tentatively opened the envelope, and my eyes about popped out of their sockets when I caught a glimpse of the amount on the check. There were more zeroes than I ever could expect to have in my bank account before I reached retirement age.
I bit back a growl and pushed the envelope aside, sick I’d even contemplated this for a second. Even if the money would mean everything to me and Mom, I could never do this to Brogan. I—cared for him. No, I more than cared for him.
Caring for him didn’t explain the spine-tingling sensation that came with his every touch. It didn’t explain the trust I put into him with every kiss. And it sure as heck didn’t even begin to describe how I fell harder with every soft look from those gorgeous brown eyes.
I loved him. Completely.
Jesus. I just had an epiphany that I loved the guy after I’d just been offered millions of dollars to destroy him.
Before I could make myself sick over this, my fingers found the center of the check and swiftly ripped it in half. “As I said before—hell no.” I stood and walked away before my words came back to me and I really dug into this guy. Not worth it—he was slime, just as Brogan had said.
Just as I neared the edge of the park, I thought I saw Bruce being walked by someone, but they turned a corner before I got a good glimpse. Really, I was feeling paranoid from the whole situation. I half expected someone to come out wielding a machine gun and threatening to send me to sleep with the fishes. Maybe Brogan was right—Netflix was rotting my brain.
At home, I sunk into the couch and turned on the TV. Zoey had left a note on the counter saying she was out with a coworker and she’d be home late.
I frowned, thinking of all that money I just gave up. But what good would it do if I felt guilty for the rest of my life? It wouldn’t be worth it. Nothing was worth hurting Brogan.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Lainey Taylor Rule of Life #57
Have Clorox wipes handy for when the shit hits the fan.
I should have known the second I stepped into the building that something was wrong. Jackson was at his desk, actual beads of sweat dripping down his face.
Coworkers caught my eye on their way to their cubicles and grimaced. Each one shook their head, their expressions pained.
I’d had this reoccurring dream when I was younger that I’d come to school and the entire student body would suddenly hate me, whispering to friends right in front of me, calling me names, keying my car. Reality was so much worse.
“What the hell did you do, Lainey?” Jackson shrieked.
“What?”
Before he could elaborate, Brogan’s voice boomed over the intercom on my desk. “Lainey, get in here now.”
My heart lodged in my throat.
Jackson shook his head in disgust. “Might as well start packing up your shit.”
“What?” Seriously, this had to be a nightmare, and I was going to wake up in a cold sweat any minute.
“Really? You’re going to play dumb? Even I didn’t think you were that stupid.”
What the hell was he talking about? And what had I done since I left the office last night that could possibly elicit such a reaction from all my coworkers?
Everything was happening at whirlwind pace. Without realizing it, my legs had propelled me into Brogan’s office, and I stopped in my tracks as soon as he turned around.
He looked at me as if I were—nothing. Like I was less than nothing. The corners of his lips curled into a sneer—what I’d assumed I looked liked when I met with his father last night.