Page 23 of Her Werewolf Lover
Michael braced himself for her outrage. Instead, she surprised him by laughing. Not a fake polite chuckle, but a deep, throaty laugh.
“No, it’s alright really. I guess, well, I was taken by surprise. And I wouldn’t call them my deepest darkest secrets. This is just an example of how bad it is when you take something out of context. The photo was for a charity magazine to raise funds for cancer research. That was one of the negatives,”she explained.
“Who’s the photographer?”
“Oh, um, his name is Parker Fiore,” she said.
Michael wrote the name down. It sounded familiar, and he wondered where he might have heard it before. Didn’t matter. His guys would find out who he was, and they’d have him write a statement about the photo.
“It was awful having our divorce become such a public conversation piece. But so much of me has been public over the years, I guess I’m immune,”she continued.
“I doubt that very much,” he said softly.
“No really, I’m fine. Besides, it’s an old story. You know the old bimbo dumped for a newer, younger model. But hey, if they’re talking about me, they’re giving some other poor slob a break, so it’s really alright, I guess.”
“I don’t know you well enough yet to determine if you really are okay, but I want you to know you don’t have to pretend with me. I am here if you want to talk.”
“Oh, um, thanks. Sorry, I was calling about your schedule. I didn’t have any idea this would happen. Um, yeah, so I’ll see you tomorrow,”she said.
Damn, she was cute when she got nervous.
“Goodnight, Samantha. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Michael waited for her to hang up before he dialed his assistant. Emails were fine and good, but nothing motivated like a good old fashioned phone call.
“I want a rundown now,” Michael said without preamble.
“I am on it, Boss. We tracked down Fiore, and the journalist,”David replied, and the sound of him clacking away at his keyboard soothed Michael’s angry Wolf.
“No quarter, David. No shortcuts. Buy the fucking tabloid if you have to.”
Then he hung up and not a moment too soon.
“Dad, I’m going to bed!” Maya called from the hall.
“Okay, Princess. I’m coming,” he said, and moved to the hallway to hug his daughter goodnight.
Maybe he would go to sleep too. He was eager for morning. For tomorrow. For her.
Chapter 8
One week later…
Samantha hummed as she made her bed after her quick morning shower.
She was glad this room had been the first to be redone. That was only because Gary hadn’t bothered paying his first ex to do any real damage to the second floor.
It was all just cosmetic, and Michael and his crew had managed to strip, repaint, and polish every inch of the upstairs in a matter of days.
He’d insisted she needed a clear place to sleep, and even though she was not convinced it was smart, Samantha was sure glad she’d agreed.
Even better than her bedroom was the fact Gary had seemed to stop texting her. Her ex wassuch a piece of shit. But ever since everything was finalized, he seemed happy to stay away from her.
Thank fuck.
She didn’t know what she ever saw in Gary. Michael, though? She knew what she saw in him. Besides the obvious.
The man was simply gorgeous. But better than that, he really listened to her, using the real wood floors beneath the garish carpets and using muted beiges and grays to paint the walls.