Page 80 of The Fiancé Hoax

“Fine. I won't say anything if she doesn't have to testify. But if she's at risk of committing perjury, I'll put a stop to this whole thing.”

“I can agree to that.”

Marsh squared his shoulders and opened his car door. “I've got to get to work.”

“See you, Marsh.”

He ignored me, slammed the door behind him, and sped off out of the garage.

Shit. Now my closest friend was pissed at me.

I stepped out of the garage and into the sun to head toward the office once more. But as I turned my head before crossing the street, a movement in the corner of the garage caught my eye.

Trying to be subtle, I shifted my eyes to get a glimpse of a man wearing a black jacket and baseball cap. He walked stealthily around a parked car.

Why did he look familiar?

I didn't break my stride, but something was off about this. And I was pretty sure I had seen him driving behind me on the way to work.

At the next block, there was a loading alley just before my building. At the last second, I made a quick detour. Ducking behind the corner where I would be out of sight, I waited for him to appear.

Seconds later, he passed in front of the alley. I emerged from my hiding place, startling him. I got right up in his face, and he took a step back until he was cornered against the wall.

“You want to tell me why the fuck you're following me?”

His eyes went big for a second, then he concealed his surprise. “I don't know what you're talking about, man. I'm not following anybody.”

He had pasty skin and shifty, beady little eyes. A real slimeball. The guy couldn't be any more suspicious.

“Why were you driving behind me? And why were you hiding in the garage?”

He raised his hands. “I don't know you.”

He started to walk off, but I took a step toward him and grabbed him by the collar.

“Stop fucking around. What are you after?” I demanded.

His face contorted in fear. “Let me go, man. Let me go!”

I tightened my grip on his shirt. “Not until you tell me.”

“Okay, okay! Gen hired me.”

“To do what?”

“To keep an eye on you. Now let me go, okay?”

He looked so pathetic and scared, I let go of his shirt. I didn’t back up, though.

“What’s she trying to get on me?”

But instead of answering me, he twisted away and ran off toward the parking garage.

Fucking hell.

I thought about chasing after him, but what was the point? He couldn't tell me anything that would be of use. With a sigh, I entered the building and headed straight for my office, fumbling with my phone as I walked.

My divorce attorney answered my call just as I closed my office door behind me.