Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 35307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
I swear to God, it's probably a good thing Loralei didn't give me his address, because I think I am actually going to murder him in his sleep now. No sense in her being implicated in my crimes.
"I'd like to go to jail now, please," I sniff to Davidson.
River just smirks at me. And goddamn him for being such a beautiful devil. "Go out with me," he mouths before I turn my back on him and stomp down the sidewalk to the cruiser.
"Hell no!" I shout. "I'd rather be Bertha's bitch in prison!"
Chapter Six
River
As soon as Davidson pulls off with Jasmine, I hop in my SUV to follow them to the precinct to bail her out. Look, I never said I had a good plan. I just said I had a plan.
And said plan does not involve leaving her sitting in jail. Hell no. It involves dropping the charges in exchange for the date she stubbornly refuses to go on. Is it diabolical? Absolutely. Should I be ashamed of myself? Fuck yes. But I'm losing my mind over this woman. If I have to resort to blackmail to get a date, then fuck it. I'm resorting to blackmail.
There's a chance I end up murdered in a back alley by a bookworm with anger issues, but it's a chance I'm willing to take.
I dial Alexa Warner, the assistant DA, on the way, my eyes locked on the cruiser ahead of me. I don't think Jasmine has noticed me following them. She's too busy ranting at Davidson, who looks like he's ready to jump out of the cruiser every time he glances in the rearview.
"Alexa Warner," she finally answers on the fifth ring.
"Hey, it's River. I need a favor," I say, rolling to a stop at the sign at the end of the block.
"What the fuck? Did you get arrested?"
"No?"
"Oh, thank god. I do not need an army of readers camped outside my office, mad as hell that your next book is going to be delayed," she sighs, sounding relieved. "What do you need?"
"I need you to refuse to file charges against Jasmine Knudsen. She was just arrested for trespassing on my property."
"Uh…"
"It's a long story."
"I've got time," Alexa says.
"I don't. I'm on the way to bail her out before she kills me for having her arrested in the first place," I say.
"Oh, absolutely not," Alexa says with a shocked laugh. "You do not get to call me for a favor like this and not explain."
Goddammit.
"We're at war," I say, because it's the simplest explanation I've got. "She wants me to speak to her book club. I want her to date me. She's being stubborn about it."
"And you're not?" Alexa laughs in disbelief. "You just had her arrested for trespassing, River. How is that going to get you a date?"
"Simple. I'm going to—"
"Uh-uh!" Alexa cries. "Do not answer that. This is a recorded line, and I know damn well you're about to say something I do not need to know. Couldn't you have convinced her in a normal way, with, I don't know, flowers or something?"
"You clearly don't know Jasmine," I mutter. "Trust me. Jail was my only option here."
"It's your funeral."
"So you do know her." I'm not entirely sure if I'm relieved or disappointed that she's a holy terror to everyone. I think I wanted it to just be me.
"I've been by the bookstore a few times." Alexa laughs again. "You're playing with fire."
"Yeah, well, she started it."
"Real mature, River."
I'm acutely aware of how ridiculous this entire goddamn situation is. But I've also seen the panic on Jasmine's face anytime I bring up a date. We both know that isn't because she dislikes me. She wouldn't have melted for me the way she did today if she disliked me, and she damn sure wouldn't be hounding me like she is if she didn't like me. The problem is deeper than that.
She's refusing because she doesn't dislike me enough, and that scares the hell out of her. I don't think she wants to know me. I haven't quite worked out why, but I'm guessing it has something to do with my writing. Does she love it? Hate it? Resent me for taking up space in a predominantly female space? I'm not sure yet.
Was having her arrested extreme? Absolutely. But sometimes, it takes an extreme response to quiet the panic so you can rationalize your way out of it. She needs that right now, or we're never going to get beyond the same circular argument where I ask her out, she panics, shoots me down while insulting me, and we rinse and repeat.
Besides, an hour in jail won't hurt her, not when I'm going to make sure no charges are filed, and she's out of there as soon as they're finished processing her.
Maybe cooling her heels in a cell for an hour will keep her from stalking some other author—one who won't hesitate to have her locked up, facing real charges. God knows, with her temper and lack of restraint, that's a distinct possibility.