Page 92 of The Wedding Situation Romance

“I don’t understand,” I tell him. “I thought we were just here to get coffee and talk about the funding. Which, by the way, is going to be at the perfect time because?—”

“About that,” he cut me off. “I’m not so sure funding your little nonprofit is in my best interest anymore,” he states.

I blink. “What do you mean?”

“Actually,” he clicks his tongue, his voice low and gravelly, but not in a good way. “I’m not so sure having anything to do with you in general is in my best interest anymore.”

“What are you talking about?” I ask. “That was the deal. That if I went to weddings, you would fund my current clients plus any new ones for a while. Until I get back on my feet and the government funding gets back on board and–”

“That was before,” he states.

“Before what?” I ask.

“Before you started lying to me. Although looking at the facts, I’m not even entirely surewhenthat was. But maybe you can clarify that for me,” he says and my heart tightens in my chest.

“Reid, I seriously–”

“My name’s not Reid,” he cuts me off again. “Not to you. Only my friends call me Reid. My family. People are let into my personal life. And as of right now, you aren’t one of those people anymore.”

“What in the world is going on?” I demand. My voice is shaking both from fear and anger because, seriously…what the hell??

“Well, first of all, my name’s not Reid. But I’m sure you know that,” he says.

“Is it August?” I ask. “I don’t see why it matt–”

“Stop pretending!” he snaps, loudly enough that we are attracting attention. “Jesus, Quinn. I’m calling you out on all of it, so for once, tell the truth.”

“About what?” I ask, beginning to cry.

“Wherever you want to start is fine,” he says, and I pinch my mouth shut, forcing the angriest face I have in me.

“I am not one of your witnesses,” I tremble.

“No. You’re not. Because any witness I talk to knows better than to lie to me,” he says. “So let’s hear it. How your dad isn’t just any lawyer, he’s Grant Bowen.”

“So?” she asks. “I have my mom’s last name. As a lawyer, you should know how common that is.”

“It is. But that’s not the important piece of information. That’s not the detail you kept locked up,” he states, waiting for me to say something. The problem is, I don’t know where he is going with this.

“I am not in your courtroom, Reid August,” I snap.

“August Remington, but don’t pretend you don’t know that.”

“Okay. August Reid Remington,” I state. Only when I say the name out loud do I recognize it. My father has spoken briefly of him, but never in detail. Only that he’s an ass and wins his trials through manipulation. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Really?” he asks. “So you are telling me that you were unaware that I was the prosecuting attorney in the Overholt case?”

Overholt.

Suddenly, part of the puzzle I am apparently supposed to put together while blindfolded comes together. “You were Michael’s attorney?” I ask. “Against…my client.”

“Against your client. Against your father.”

Holy shit…

I sit back in my chair, unsure what to say. But Reid isn’t finished. In fact, there’s a sort of devilish, competitive smirk on his face.

“Let’s piece this all together, shall we?” he asks. And I am frozen. “You needed money. And when you figured out that I had money and was looking for help with the whole wedding date ordeal, you saw an opportunity. And when your client needed a lawyer, you hired your father, knowing full well that he and I have a track record and pitted them against me. Add Allegra to the process and you then had not just your client and your dad and your best friend who is also benefitting from my money against me, but my own client as well. Because why not use my money to fund your little romance projectandmake me look like a fool on a professional level at the same time? Did I leave anything out, Quinn Bowen?”