er whining.”
Suddenly all the hot rage inside me turns icy as I know exactly what I want. I give him a long, hard stare. “You will leave town, Bradley. You will never contact my wife again, and you won’t even breathe of your connection to her.”
“Or what?” he says, still full of bravado and not getting it.
“I’ll show you what the Sterlings do to people who cross one of their own.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
I smile coldly. “You won’t even be able to spit on the street without a cop chasing after you. Every time you try to get on a plane, you’ll be set aside for extra security and questioning. You forget to signal before you turn, you’ll be ticketed. Trust me. I can make your life very unpleasant in every aspect, no matter how small and petty. Death by a thousand harassments. And that’s just an appetizer. How’d you like to be unemployable for the rest of your life? I mean, it doesn’t look like you’re used to working a nine-to-five as it is—so much easier to just take some mark’s money, right?—but you’ll be reduced to begging on the streets. Bradley Brown, the first male bag-lady.”
“You fucker!” His complexion turns red, purple veins sticking out in his forehead.
“‘Fucker’? Really? I thought you con men were more creative.”
Shaking, he glares at me. Then finally, he says, “Fine. But I want to see Evie before I go.”
“No.”
“Don’t you think she’ll find it weird if I just disappear without a word?”
“Well, let’s face it, Bradley. It isn’t like you’ve never done it before.”
His lips tighten until they look like hyphens on his face. “It’ll be better for her if I tell her I have to go and that I love her. That way she doesn’t wonder if she did something to upset me and make me leave or whatever. She’s pregnant. Pregnant women are impossible—I know from experience, trust me”—he rolls his eyes—“and it’ll give her closure.”
My instinct says to hell with his proposal, but he has a point. Evie might very well assume it’s got something to do with her. I don’t want her beating herself up over a piece of shit like Bradley.
“Fine,” I say despite a small voice in my gut saying, Noooooooooooo! “You can see her, once, but after that, you need to go.”
“Don’t worry, I will.”
Chapter Forty-Five
Evie
When Nate finally comes back to the office, he’s carrying a box of Belgian chocolates and a bright bouquet of carnations and daisies. He hands me both.
“This is what your shopping was about?” I ask, a big grin splitting my face.
“Yup. I couldn’t ask you to get them for me, now could I?”
“You didn’t have to.”
“Every man is entitled to spoil his wife without her protesting. Just enjoy them.”
I smile. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” He runs the side of his index finger along my cheek.
I duck my head, suddenly embarrassed. I don’t think anybody is staring, but…
Regardless, I’ve been very lucky. My coworkers are slowly accepting that I’m the boss’s wife. Actually, some of them were furious about the tabloid article. Haruka even said, “I’m going to stuff blowfish ovaries down that so-called writer’s throat.”
I laughed, thinking it was cute how she wanted to make him choke on tiny ovaries.
“Don’t laugh. They’re toxic and will kill you. Make you stop breathing and you die. In agony, and with bad-trip hallucinations.”
Note to self: do not mess with Haruka.