Page 38 of Final Verdict
Then I change into an oversized sweatshirt and socks to get as comfortable as possible.
Opening my small fridge, I pull out a bottle of champagne and drink straight from its neck. Then I stab at a piece of cake, committed to gorging myself until I can’t take any more.
I manage to stuff down two slices when a knock sounds at my door.
Assuming it’s someone who missed out on getting a piece, I cut a slice and carry it to the door.
My smile immediately falls when I open it.
It’s not a friend at all.
It’s Jameson.
Still wearing the same black suit I saw him in earlier. Unfortunately, he remains sexy as fuck, but he’s clenching his jaw and looking as if he’s the one who has the right to be upset.
“You must be lost, sir,” I say. “This is the non-asshole floor of the dormitory. You might need to take the elevator down to Hell.”
“I’m glad you brought up the fact that you live in a goddamn dorm,” he says. “Yet another secret you failed to disclose to me.”
“I don’t have to tell you anything—especially now.” My voice cracks. “Go away so I can enjoy what’s left of my birthday in peace.”
“I came to give you a present,” he says. “I meant to give it to you days ago, before your previous secret.”
“You can keep it.” I hiss. “Give it to someone who actually wants something from you.”
I start to slam the door shut, but he wedges his foot between the frame.
“I came here to talk to you, Scarlett,” he says, his voice low. “Let me in, so we can talk...”
“No. I think you’ve said more than enough.”
“Trust me, I haven’t.”
“Fine.” I cross my arms. “Say whatever you have to say out there in the hallway.”
“For all your friends to hear?”
“I’m sure they’ve heard apologies from douchebags before.” I shrug. “You won’t be saying anything new.”
“Do they know you were seconds away from getting pussy eaten while you were supposed to be working a few weeks ago?”
I gasp and pull him inside, and he shuts the door.
“Two minutes,” I say. “Spit it out.”
He doesn’t say a word.
Instead, he looks around my small room before pulling a blue box from his pocket. Walking past me, he sets it on the windowsill and moves toward my desk, invading my space without permission.
“Tick tock, Jameson,” I say as he picks up one of my audition scripts. “I’m going out with my friends in just a minute.”
“Wearing that?” He arches a brow as he looks over my baggy sweatshirt.
“Yes.”
“Okay, Scarlett...” He moves closer to me. “You and I have a huge problem, and I would like us to fix it.”
“Then leave. Problem solved.”
