quick,” he growls. “Eat. I have a start-up to go hammer into shape after I kick your ass.”
One of Jax’s particular talents is taking underperforming companies and cutting away the dross until they shine financially. It doesn’t make him the most popular guy in the room—people lose jobs when he takes over—but the ones who stay never regret it. Not financially, at any rate. I suspect he’s a bit of a bastard boss, but then again, hell will freeze over before I work for him.
I open the bag to find a hot dog with onions and sauerkraut. The combination all but guarantees kissing Hana will not be on my afternoon agenda. I hesitate, but I’m hungry. He nods when I start eating, and for a few minutes we both focus on eating with maximum efficiency.
“What are the chances you’re not married to my sister?” Jax crumples his now-empty bag and lobs it into a nearby trash can. It’s an impressive three-point shot and I hand him mine so he can do it again.
I appreciate that he starts with facts and not feelings.
“My lawyers double-checked everything.”
He hits the trash can again. “And?”
“And we’re married.”
“Hana deserves to be happy.” The look on Jax’s face warns that he doesn’t see any further association between me and Hana leading to that state.
“I won’t hurt her. We’re going to work out a deal.”
My phone goes nuts in the pocket of my suit jacket as Leda deluges me with a new flurry of texts. She hasn’t let up, her endless messaging making it clear she has plenty more to say about the end of our relationship. I, on the other hand, ran out of fucks to give weeks ago. My fuck-less state coinciding with her decision to share the alleged details of our relationship with a gossip website has caused me a world of unresolved problems. I’m finding it increasingly hard to resist the urge when Leda comes up to run around shouting liar, liar, pants on fire. Mostly this is because I cringe when I think about Hana reading these things and deciding they’re one more piece of evidence in the mountain of my dickishness.
While Jax considers what to say, I unlock my phone and inventory my messages. Nineteen angry texts from Leda demand, in increasingly hostile progression, that I repent of my sins, explain myself, text her back, don’t bother texting her back and drop dead. Shit. Delete. I also have new emails from multiple business and entertainment reporters requesting I comment on my starring role in Silicon Valley’s biggest start-up scandal. They don’t mention my marriage. Delete. My PR team has reached out with a plan to handle the fallout from said scandal. I scan it. Like their last two proposals, they strongly urge me to go down on bended knee and apologize. I fire off a one-word response—no—and delete their email as well.
Jax plucks the phone out of my hand. Since not having to sum up saves me time, I let him. He glances down at the screen, his eyes skimming over the messages.
He pins me with his hard-ass glare when he looks up. “Why haven’t you fixed this? Block Leda. Make her go away. You can’t be texting her and be married to my sister. It looks like you still have a thing for her.”
He’s probably not soliciting murder, so I go with the next logical assumption. “Are you asking me to pay her off?”
Jax curses but doesn’t deny the thought of money has crossed his mind. Instead, he hands me back my phone.
“Isn’t there another way to get her out of your life?”
This is dangerous ground. “Eventually there will be legal charges, but I don’t own that timeline and I can’t guarantee they’ll stick.”
“But you think they will.”
I hesitate for just a moment. Jax is one of the few people I trust with the truth. He’s also just about the only person I’d explain myself to. “This is about her business relationships, not something personal.” Not a revenge fuck in the literal sense. “She lied to a lot of people. She took their money knowing she didn’t actually have a product—and then she spent that money, but not on R&D. Or she moved it. Whatever happened to it, it’s gone, and since she was the CEO, she’s responsible.”
Jax’s frown deepens and a slim guy in a well-tailored summer suit veers hard left and almost stumbles off the curb. “Why don’t you just say that? Everyone thinks you’re an ass who