Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 106774 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106774 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
“I apologize,” I say, dropping my hands in frustration. “I shouldn’t have dumped all that on your lap. Ignore me.”
He gives me a pointed look. “You need an attorney. That’s what you’re saying?”
I shrug helplessly. I don’t want to talk to him about this, but it’s kind of too late now.
“I think so,” I say. “At the least, I need someone to tell me what my options are. I obviously don’t have twenty thousand dollars.” I groan, the sound of that number making my stomach threaten to reject my lunch all over the asphalt. “And a part of me is petty, too, because why should I have to bail him out of his problems when he caused me so many problems? You know?”
Gray pulls his phone out of his pocket and taps around on the screen, then he brings the device to his ear. His jaw flexes as he waits for someone to answer. I don’t know whether to get in the car, to shrivel in embarrassment, or wait for him to finish before exiting stage right from this overly dramatic and humbling scene.
“Hey, Joe. It’s Gray.” He nods, listening. “Yeah. I had it transferred to you around lunchtime. Did you get it?” He paces a crack in the concrete. “Let me know if not because I received confirmation. We should be good.”
I open my driver’s side door and toss my phone into the passenger’s seat. I try to remember where I put the list of attorneys that I didn’t call last week. There were three or four left. Maybe I can get an appointment with one of them. I could put it all on a credit card or try to make payments. The thought makes me want to weep.
Tears gather in the corners of my eyes, and I refuse to blink so they don’t spill down my cheeks.
“One more thing. You don’t happen to have any consulting slots open in the next few days, do you?” Gray asks.
What? I twirl around, seeing him through my unshed tears. “What are you doing?” The words are thick through the emotion lodged in my throat.
“It’s for a friend of mine,” he says, winking at me. “She’s getting fucked by an ex and needs legal advice so she doesn’t get extorted.”
I stand frozen in place, unable to believe what I’m hearing.
“Friday at three?” Gray asks, looking at me with lifted brows. “Hang on, Joe.” He drops the phone to his side. His features are sober. “Listen, I’ve known Joe for my whole life. He can look at your papers on Friday at three, if that works for you. He won’t charge you, either. No pressure either way.”
“Gray, you didn’t have to do this.”
He grins. “The correct response is thank you.”
My cheeks heat as I remember saying those words to him. “Thank you. Three o’clock on Friday is wonderful.”
I stand, stupefied, as he winds up his call. I’m not sure what to say or what to think about it. I can only hope he’s not joking around about this because I might break down if so. After I get Gianna’s taser.
He puts his phone away. “You got yourself an appointment.”
“I don’t know what to say.” I laugh in shock. “Where is Joe? How do I get to his office?”
“Joe is in Sugar Creek.”
“Your hometown?”
“Yeah.” Gray clears his throat. “I was going back there to visit my brother this weekend, anyway. So if you want to hitch a ride, that’d be fine with me. We can make a pact not to talk, or you can wear earbuds, if you want.”
No words appear on my tongue. It’s like my brain stopped working, and I can’t comprehend basic English. Because there is no way Gray just offered me help like this. It’s not possible.
“I mean, you can drive yourself, too—”
“You just blindsided me. I’m sorry. Just give me a second.” I take a long, deep breath and exhale slowly. “You didn’t have to do this, Gray.”
“You’ve already said that.” He smirks. “And as far as you riding with me, I’m going anyway. It’s not like I’m making a special trip for you. Don’t think you’re special or anything.”
“Well, when you put it like that, fine,” I say, struggling not to smile at him.
“Great.”
“Great.”
He tosses his bag over his shoulder and walks toward his truck. “I’d say I’ll text you with details, but God knows you’ll be texting me orders every day until then. I’ll just hit reply.”
I watch him until he reaches his truck. How is this possible?
My mind can barely break down what just happened as I climb into my car. I close the door and then rest my head against the seat, closing my eyes. And breathe. Gray’s truck starts up in the distance, loud and obnoxious as always.
This makes no sense. Does Gray pity me? Is he thankful for my help? Are we going to arrive in Sugar Creek and find out that Joe is a drunkard with a magic eight ball?