"This weekend, we can move your stuff to my garage."
"You have a garage?"
"Somewhat. The freestanding building out back is equivalent to a three-car garage. It's got plenty of space for your things. We organize it right, your Lexus will fit, too. I can install a garage door for one side."
"That's sweet but unnecessary. It's silly to move it twice, and the cost isn't expensive."
"Baby, I saw the invoice yesterday, and it's the principal. Why pay anything when I have space and you can put that money toward buying things? Pierce and I can move your stuff in a load with both our trucks. And everything from here, except that bed, is going in my house."
She opens her mouth, then rethinks it and rolls her eyes.
"And another thing, you and your mom go crazy, but when it comes to your furniture, I want my say."
"You want a say in my furniture?"
"Specifically," I point to her mattress, "the bed. That thing is shit."
She looks to where I'm pointing and purses her lips before giggling. "You really hate it, huh?"
"The only quality it has is you laying in my arms."
"I guess I’m used to it."
"It's going to charity."
"Okay."
"No argument?"
Her laughter slows and she shakes her head. "I bought it on a clearance sale off the internet. My realtor did me a favor and met the delivery guys here."
"Glad there's no attachment."
"Miller." Her voice goes serious and instincts kick in. "I thought we agreed that things would slow down today? Demanding to have a say in my bedroom furniture isn't slow."
"Considering my ass will be in that bed anytime we're not at my place, I get an opinion. And since I hate shopping, you and your mom can do the legwork. If you find something you like, I'll meet you at the store."
Her phone dings in her hand, and the instant she glances down, I know something's wrong and the bed is forgotten. Her eyebrows draw together as her eyes dart back and forth rapidly. She presses the screen, and whatever pops up causes her to inhale sharply.
"Ashlyn?" I get to her side and take her trembling hand. "Jesus, what's wrong?"
"Evin wants to stop by on his way to the office. There have been a few problems."
"What kind of problems?"
"He doesn't say. Oh God, my portfolio and investments, my money…" she trails off.
"Baby, what about them?"
"Redmond, Kersh, and Ried…"
"Who are they?"
"It's my old firm. What if they're trying to come after them?"
Anger blisters through me at the slight crack in her voice. She is pale, trembling, and all over panicked. I rip my phone out and get to Evin's number.
"What the fuck is going on?" I demand roughly when he answers.
"I guess she got my message. I'm on my way to her house."
"Re-route to my place. Let yourself in, make some coffee. We'll be there soon."
"Ask her to bring her latest statements and all the forms we copied at my office," he instructs.
"Baby," I try to sound gentle, knowing she heard him, "you have access to that paperwork?"
"Yes, I keep it all organized."
"Evin, can you tell me anything?"
"Man, this group is not happy about giving up her money. They made an offer to send down a senior manager to meet with Ashlyn and me personally to work this out."
She jolts, followed by an all-over body shiver.
"Right, Evin, we'll see you." I disconnect, shove the phone in my back pocket, and curl an arm around her. "We get to my house, you sit down with Evin and work this out."
She stays motionless, working through something in her mind, and I know the instant her spine straightens that her resolve is back. "Yes, we will talk to Evin and work this out."
I hold her a bit longer, kissing her temple and feeling a new kind of burn. She isn't pushing me away, and even if she doesn't realize it, that 'we' included me.
Chapter 10
Ashlyn
In… Out…
Deep… Shallow…
One… Two… Three…
Nothing works and I lose it, swiping my hand across Miller's table with a red haze. "Goddamned, Motherfucking, Rat-Bastard, Asshole! Box of rocks walking around in Armani like a snake oil salesman. I knew he was slimy, but he's stupid, too. He's such an idiot he probably doesn't realize I had online access and put my mom on the account as primary and not his dumbass!"
Adrenaline speeds through me, and I stand, pacing, and purposely avoiding eye contact with either man. "I may have been living under a cloud, but I'm not an irrelevant fuck like him. He's not keeping my capital. And the minute," I raise my finger in the air dramatically, whipping it around, "my money is out of these accounts, I'll report him. That weasel does not get to fuck with my livelihood!"
I picture Ian Robbins the third, writhing in his Gucci loafers as I slap a lawsuit on him.
"Princess, you want to let us in on these devilish intentions before I have to kick Evin out?" Miller breaks into my thoughts and I whirl to face them.
My heart stops at the sight. Evin is handsome in a professional but rugged way. He wears a suit, designer or not, like he was meant for a runway. His dark hair, hard build, and caramel eyes could bring a woman down. But I knew the instant I met him he's not my type.
Miller, on the other hand, makes me weak. He's leaning on his counter, arms crossed, feet kicked out and also crossed at the ankles, and crystal blue eyes locked on me. It doesn't take superpower vision to see what he looks like under his clothes—his thick legs, muscular torso, the bulging biceps. My hands itch to run through his messy hair and lose myself in him.
I shake myself out of the thoughts and try my best to glare. "You are not kicking Evin out, Miller. We need to take this pompous ass to the ground."
"Keep talking like that, we'll do it in a few hours," he calmly returns with his filthy grin.
"Man, I'm available after
