Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 49814 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 249(@200wpm)___ 199(@250wpm)___ 166(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 49814 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 249(@200wpm)___ 199(@250wpm)___ 166(@300wpm)
Except…what if I'm wrong?
What if I'm already too late?
The thought twists my stomach into knots.
I don't knock on her door. I fucking barge in like I own the place because, yeah, I actually do.
She glances up, startled, as she stashes her cellphone in her desk drawer. "Oh. It's you." Her smile slips. "Hey."
"What are you doing?"
"I was coming to see you, actually. I need to leave early today."
So she can go see whoever she was just talking to? Hell no.
"You can't."
"Why not?" she demands, already scowling at me.
Because I'm losing my fucking mind over you. Because you're supposed to be with me, not whoever that prick was. Because you're mine, dammit.
"We have a meeting tonight," I lie. "I need you there."
"What meeting?" She narrows her eyes suspiciously, turning to her calendar. "I don't have anything on my calendar."
"It just came up. It's at Della's downtown. That's why I'm here. In your office, I mean. I need you there."
"Can't someone else go in my place? I already have plans."
I cross my arms, glaring at her. Mad as hell because she has plans with that prick when she should have plans with me. That's my own fucking fault.
Christ, Trystan was right. He's going to love hearing that.
"We hired you to do a job, Constance. If you can't do it…" I trail off, not entirely sure where I'm heading with that. It's not like I'm going to fire her for telling me no.
But I guess she thinks so. She stiffens in outrage, her face going red. "Fine," she snaps. "Send me the details, and I'll make it work."
I should quit while I'm ahead. I know damn well that I should. But something about the way she scowls at me turns me the fuck on, so I don't quit. I push a little bit further just because I can. Just because I'm an asshole. Just because I want every little reaction she'll give me. That's how hard up I am for her.
"You sure? If you aren't up for it, I'll find someone who can handle it."
My taunt lands exactly like I thought it would. She bristles, practically quivering in outrage. And I've never wanted to drop to my knees and taste every inch of her flushed skin more.
"I said I'll be there," she growls, her hands balled into fists.
I don't push again. I just jerk my head in a nod and storm out before I do something I know she'll regret…like fuck her over her desk.
Jesus Christ, I need to get it together.
And I also need to figure out what the fuck I'm going to tell her when she shows up tonight and finds out that I lied just to get her there.
She's going to be livid.
I can't wait.
Chapter Three
Constance
"Ihaven't heard anything about a meeting," Haven says into the phone while I rummage through my closet, trying to figure out what to wear. "Are you sure he said it was a meeting?"
"Positive," I grumble, still fuming over the entire conversation. "I swear to God, Haven, I love Luna and Carter, but if Bastian weren't freaking identical to Jareth, I'd swear he was birthed in the bowels of hell."
Haven's loud laughter echoes down the line. "He may have been. He could be one of those things. What are they called?"
"Demon spawn? Knights of Hell? Agents of Evil?" I supply helpfully, pulling a dressy blue suit from the closet.
"No, not that. The thing where someone switches out a baby with one that looks just like it, but it's actually like a demented fairy or something."
"What did you read as a child?" I ask, making her laugh again as I survey the suit. It's professional enough, but…is that the vibe I want tonight? No, not really. Part of me—the irritated part who loves being a problem for Bastian—doesn't want to be professional and accommodating. I want to tempt fate and taunt a beast.
I hang the suit back beside the others I rarely wear, reaching for the little black dress I've never worn. I bought it on a whim when Haven and I went shopping last month. It's gorgeous and daring, not at all appropriate for a work dinner.
Bastian will be furious when I show up in it.
Maybe that's what prompts me to tug it from the hanger. He's my problem today, so I intend to be his tonight. Maybe next time, he'll think twice about threatening my job if I don't dance on his strings.
"What time do you have to be there?" Haven asks.
"Seven." I glance at my phone screen and sigh. "I should probably change."
"Changeling!" she cries.
"What?"
"They're called changelings. Maybe that's what he is."
It's a theory. A terrible one, but a theory, nonetheless.
"I doubt it," I sigh, snagging a pair of red heels from the shelf before wandering out of the closet. I toss my dress on the bed before dropping the shoes beside it. "Fairies, even the demented ones, have souls. Your cousin definitely doesn't."