Page 26 of The Sounds of Her

I pull out my cell and request a car from my driving service. I’d like to ignore the giant idiot behind me, but he won’t be deterred.

“Brooke, listen to me for a minute.”

“So you can propose?” I eye him disdainfully.

“What? No. I thought your mom told you and you didn’t want to bring it up in the limo.”

A message says the car is estimated to be here in five minutes. I pay them enough, so it better be.

“What are they offering you?” I cross my arms and turn to him. “To tie yourself to me, what do you get out of it?”

“It isn’t for me to say.”

“So you’re a coward and a liar? My mother must have something over you.”

Roman doesn’t like being called a coward. He grits his teeth, so the sides of his jaw flex. I’m taller than average, but I hate being looked down on, especially by men like this.

He can’t make me feel small, no one can. I’ve grown a thick skin for a reason. My fingers and toes itch. A nervous, but angry, tension rolls through me.

“Let me explain, because no matter what we say or do, this will not go away.”

“Yes it will,” I snap. Where the hell is the car?

“Would you rather hear it from me, or your mom?”

“Mom should tell me, that could be fun.” Like a root canal.

I spot the town car, finally, thank fuck.

“Your father is on the verge of losing everything.”

My stomach flips. “What?”

“He made some poor investments. Made some… mistakes.”

“Mistakes?” I turn back to Roman. “What does that mean?”

“We should talk about this somewhere quieter.”

My cell phone rings at the same time the car pulls to a stop in front of me. Roman stares at it, in surprise. He’s not the only ass with money. I glance at my phone and decline the call, I do not want to speak to her right now.

“You better have a really good explanation for your part in this, or I’m going to tear your balls off and feed them to you.”

Roman’s brows lift and he looks as if he is going to laugh, not realising I’m serious. But my face is stoney, even though I’m not giving away the turmoil and nausea rolling through me. He nods and we climb into the car.

When the driver asks where to, I give him the name of one of the most exclusive restaurants in New York, then glare at Roman. “I assume that is okay with you?”

“Er yeah, sure.”

“Good.”

“We don’t have a reservation,” Roman points out. My expression has him shutting up. He takes out his phone.

There is no one I can call, nowhere I can go. Most of my friends are out of the country. I won’t call Meg. She’s all loved up with Joey and isn’t the kind of person who can help me deal with this shit, anyway. It’s way out of her wheelhouse.

Then again, who would be an expert on something like this? No one I know of.

As we drive, I ignore Roman after he informs me he’s got us a table.