Page 32 of Final Verdict
“No...”
“You’re at Hudson University, but you used to be at Harvard until—what? You decided to take your acting major to a whole new level by pretending to be someone new every day?”
“You have no idea what the hell you’re talking about.”
“Doubt it,” he says. “Get out of my car. Now.”
“No. I need you to listen to me.”
“Okay.” He puts the car in park, and I let out a sigh.
But then he steps out and walks back toward the firm, leaving me inside.
“What the hell?” I step out and follow him.
“Jameson, seriously?”
“Yes, fucking seriously.” He spins around and glares at me. “What the fuck do you want to talk to me about?”
His roar echoes through the empty halls, and if there’s anyone on this level, I know they heard him.
“Hello?” He arches a brow. “What do you have to say?”
“I...” I lose my train of thought, and I can suddenly hear the same sound that ended our conversation weeks ago.
“Here.” Jameson grabs my hand and pulls me inside the mailroom.
Then he crosses his arms. “Talk away, Scarlett.”
“I only lie when it’s a means to get what I want.”
“That’s literally what every liar says.”
“It’s every lawyer, too,” I say. “Especially someone like you, right?”
He blinks.
“You seem like you’d like an established woman, so...” I shrug. “It’s not like I tried to trick you into marrying me.”
“Just fucking you.”
“You didn’t need to be tricked.” I roll my eyes. “I like you, and I think you like me, too... And I turn twenty-one soon, so I really don’t see the big deal.”
He serves me a blank stare.
“Your bio says you’re only twenty-eight.”
“My bio from eight years ago.”
I mentally calculate the math, realizing he’s thirty-six.
“Oh,” is all I can say.
“Are we done talking now?” he asks, dropping his arms. “Anything else?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
