“Maybe you should make it a part of the prenup,” I mumble.
“That’s not a bad idea,” he says.
I snap out of my stupor.
“I’ll call my attorney and have it added. Here, take a look.”
I take the document from Jarrod’s hand and skim the text. If I am caught cheating or stealing from him, I will be cut loose without a penny. If I publicly embarrass him in a way that leads to social or legal retribution, then I’ll walk away with half a million dollars, but I’ll lose that if I void the attached nondisclosure agreement. If I can’t bear children, I’ll get a million as a peace offering. And should Jarrod decide the marriage has come to an end, I will accept the divorce without contest, and I will receive two million dollars for my time.
Jarrod said he didn’t plan to divorce, but if he did, the money I’d walk away with is staggering. Yes, while this might seem like a reward for marrying someone I don’t love, it’s actually a punishment. It’s as if Jarrod has already planned on me screwing up his life in some way. And, if I don’t, he has a plan should he just be done with me.
It’s degrading. Yes, I only wanted to marry him for his money, but I was still planning on being a good wife, on working hard and supporting him, as any wife would.
“You’re no better than he is,” I say, my head spinning with comparisons between Jarrod and my father.
“Than who?” He leans back in his chair, curiosity written all over his face.
“My father.” I back away, taking a step toward the door.
“You have a father?” He seems genuinely surprised.
I’ve never spoken of my parents to him. He probably assumed they were dead.
I take another step back, closer to the door.
Jarrod sees my steps. His brows dramatically curve in. “Where are you going, love?”
“If I marry, it will be to someone who is crazy about me and who I am absolutely, without a doubt, crazy over.” I open the door and step into the doorway.
Jarrod is on his feet. “What the hell are you talking about? Heather, is there someone else?”
I look down for a moment and grin to myself. “There is. And he is way too young and probably comes with college loans.” I lift my head and smile so bright at Jarrod that he probably thinks I’ve lost my mind.
“College?” His eyes are bulging out of his head. “Have you gone mad?”
“Yes, I think I have.”
Closing the door behind me, I run down the hallway and toward the newsroom. I look for Ryan. His intern desk is neat, looking untouched for the day. I spin around the room but don’t see him.
He’s not in the conference room or the break room. Hell, he’s not even in the copy room.
“Meg”—I surprise her with my rushed appearance—“have you seen Ryan?”
She peers up from her red rims. “You mean, the intern?”
I enthusiastically nod my head.
“He quit,” she says.
My stomach drops.
“Gave his notice in an email this morning. You didn’t see the memo?”
No, I didn’t. But it doesn’t matter.
“Cancel all my appointments,” I say, rushing down the hallway toward the elevator.
Meg peeks her head out of the doorframe, shouting toward me, “Where are you going?”
I turn around and walk backward, feet from the elevator bank. “I have to return a pair of shoes!”
As I wait on Michigan Avenue, my eyes are looking straight at Lake Michigan, the most beautiful lake in the world.
I see a man, the man I’ve been waiting to exit a building for the last fifty minutes. He’s in a button-down shirt and khaki pants, and a brown messenger bag is slung over his shoulder.
A taxi pulls to the curb, and I pause a second before rushing up. The man’s hand is already on the handle as I come up behind him and place my hand on top of his.
“I hailed this cab first. Why is it that every woman in Chicago thinks—” His words are cut off at the sight of me.
“Every woman in Chicago what?” I ask with a teasing smile.
Cobalt blues shine in surprise. I raise my brows, and my smile follow suit as I trace the petals of a lavender rose across my lips.
Ryan’s body sinks back in surrender. “Heather,” he whispers my name. “This is either a crazy coincidence, or you’re stalking me.”
“I’m stalking you. Well, I cyberstalked your sister, who gladly told me you had an interview here today.”
I lower the rose and hand it to him. Our fingers touch with the handoff, and it takes everything out of me not to grab ahold of him and pull his body toward mine.
“I forgot to tell you something.” I bite my lip and pray I didn’t mess everything up last night. “I’m in love with you.”
He looks up to the sky, closes his eyes, and takes a couple of quick breaths. It’s not the reaction I was hoping for.
When he lowers his gaze, his face looks like that of a man torn. “That’s what you say today. You’ve already pushed me away twice. I’m still ten years younger than you. I’m still from a working-class family. Hell, I won’t be able to support you for at least another five years.”
“I’ll support you,” I reply quickly.
His head swivels to the side in disbelief.
The cab driver barks from inside the cab, “I can’t sit here. I have to move.”
Placing a hand on Ryan’s arm, I move him away from the car and let the cab leave. We have things to discuss, and I am not letting him out of my sight until he hears me out.
“I’ve spent my whole life looking after me and only me. I thought the only man worth having would be one who could take care of me financially. But that’s not what I need. I need you, Ryan. I need to laugh and dance and play games. I make enough money to support us. But what I don’t have is someone to support me with his heart, with his mind, and with his soul. You are the only man worth having. The only man I ever want to have for the rest of my life.”
The breath escapes Ryan’s chest. His body steps toward me, and those hands I adore grab ahold of me. “I want this. So bad. How do I know you won’t change your mind, tell me you’re scared of the age difference or how we can’t live the lifestyle you want?”
Placing my hand in my tote bag, I take out a pair of boring brown loafers. “Because I was only to return these when I was safe. I’m safe, Ryan. With you. Only you.”
A laugh escapes his lips. A magnificent, boisterous laugh.
Ryan leans in and kisses me, hard, passionately, and like a man who is kissing a woman he knows he is about to spend forever with.
The petals in the rose in his hand tickle the side of my face. I lean back and look into his beautiful young face.
“Do you know why I chose lavender?” he asks.
I shake my head. “No.” I never thought there was a reason.
He pulls me toward him, and his lips speak against mine, “It means, love at first sight.”
I kiss him again, on a busy street in Chicago.
In a city where I came to find a place to belong, instead, I found a home.
A life.
A love.
I’d call that a win for a sin.
A year ago, I was asked to join this incredible group of authors, many of whom I did not know before. Thank you to Carina Adams, Leddy Harper, Nicole Hart, Lauren Runow, Stephie Walls, and SL Ziegler for being the greatest friends and collaborators an indie author could ask for. I love you TWOTs!!!
To my beta babes—Lauren Runow, Stefanie Pace, Kelli Mummert, and Giovanna Bovenzi Cruz—for helping make Sinful Abandon an amazing read.
To Jovana Shirley of Unforeseen Editing for always making my stories glow beautifully on the page.
To Autumn Hull for always being my final set of eyes.
To Emily Smith Kidman for helping share the Abandon Collection with readers.
To Meg Rhea and Michaela Duarte, who won a Facebook contest and let me name characters after them.
I only write about cities I’ve traveled to, but I always need a local to give it that authentic feel. Thank you, Sarita Bernal Woerheide, for being my guide and helping to make Chicago come to life.
To my mom for her time and to my kids for their patience.
And to Bryan for always telling me what a man would really say. ;)
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