Page 27 of Final Verdict
“The Uber night was a one-off,” I admit. “I’m always ripping and running somewhere or working to stay afloat.”
I still.
I didn’t mean to say that aloud.
“So marketing isn’t your career end game?” Jameson asks.
“Far from it.”
“What is then?”
“Transforming into someone else.”
“Does that pay well?”
“If I stop choking and get back to being good at it, yes...”
“I’ll need you to elaborate on that.” He laughs. “Hold on one second, Scarlett. I’m about to get into an elevator.”
I toss my rag onto the cart and step into the hallway to stretch. As I’m moving past the elevator bank, Jameson steps off.
He’s dressed down in a grey V-neck shirt and dark jeans, and I’m too stunned in this moment to look away from him before?—
OH MY GOD, no.
Stopping, his eyes meet mine.
Then he looks at his phone and back at me.
No, no, NO...
As if he’s struggling to see if I’m real, he moves closer, squinting.
“Please tell me this is another one of my illusions where I keep running into you,” he says. “You’re about to transform into one of my junior lawyers and your name is not Scarlett, correct?”
My nerves are too on edge for me to answer.
He reaches out to run his fingers through my hair for the answer and narrows his eyes.
“You work here, Scarlett?” he asks. “At my firm?”
“Wait. You have an entire law firm in your name?”
“My name is on the lights outside.”
“Okay...” I don’t dare bring up the fact that the letters haven’t said anything but “ate & ass” in the weeks I’ve been assigned here and this is just “Building A” on my cleaning sheet.
“You said you worked in marketing,” he says. “If it’s my marketing department, you can totally go and come as you please, but I’ve never seen your name on my payroll, and I personally sign every check.”
“I’m working here through a temp agency,” I say, grateful this part of my story is true.
He shakes his head, and then he closes the gap between us.
“Did someone hire you to stalk me, Scarlett?”
“What?”
“It was Ray Knight, wasn’t it?” He narrows his eyes. “Or was it my stepfather?”
