Page 20 of Saving Grace

“Bring it to me.”

“Now?”

“Yes.”

Grumbling and mumbling about amnesiac, crazy women, Matt did as he was told. There might be some truth that we might be friends as he said if he tried to call me so soon after the bombing. He actually cared despite being such an infuriating man.

“Here. I charged it for you last night,” Matt said. “Your boss has been calling non-stop and I had to turn it off.”

The phone was prompting me to type in a 4-digit code which I didn’t know. “I don’t know my passcode.”

“Four-four-eight-one,” he rattled off.

“How do you know this?” I asked as I typed in the numbers.

“A friend of mine hacked your phone.”

“Hacked?”

“We broke into it,” he shrugged.

“I’m pretty sure that’s illegal,” I fired back.

“We didn’t need the info from it. Look, Grace, you only have to put in the passcode the first time your phone turns on,” Matt explained patiently. He took the phone from me and locked it. Then he took my thumb and pressed it lightly on the button. My phone unlocked and all these small images appeared.

“I’m pretty sure I pressed that.”

“Must have been the wrong finger or they were grimy. So, what’s so important that you needed to show me?”

“Did you call me right after the bombing happened?” I muttered as I navigated the device. Thank God it was intuitive as I pressed the picture of the phone. Wow, a list of calls and call time displayed. I see a couple from Elliot Holden, who was reportedly my boss, and a couple from Mom.

“My mother called?” I was suddenly seized by emotion. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Grace, you were delirious for two days. I had to make sure I had your security in place. I had no time to be your damned secretary, too.”

God, I had bad taste in men. Was I really attracted to this jerk enough to have sex with him? I resisted the urge to throw the phone at his head and found the calls from Mr. Asshole and figured out how to return the call.

I closed my eyes when I heard a phone ringing on the nightstand.

It was Matt. Without a doubt.

He grabbed his phone and showed it to me. “Why are you calling me, Grace?”

Opening my eyes, I turned my phone’s screen to him. “You’re Mr. Asshole.”

“That’s your name for me on your phone,” Matt stated flatly, not so amused unlike the first time I called him that. In fact, he looked pissed.

“Yes. I think I had my reasons for calling you that,” I said. “I think you’re not entirely honest with me as to the nature of our relationship. Are we really friends?”

“What the fuck, Grace?”

“Maybe you find this an opportunity to fuck me over given my amnesia.”

“Grace—”

“Get out of my bed.”

“Sorry to break it to you, sweetheart, but you’re in mine,” he said icily. Gone was the caring, protective, and charming man. In his place was this cold, forbidding stranger.