Mr. Imperfect - By Savannah Wilde Page 0,69

you’re going to light the invitation on fire. Hold the paper as long as you can, but when it gets too hot, put it in the bowl.”

“I can’t do that,” Rori protested. “I need the address so I can send a gift—”

“You are not sending this man a gift!” Mike said decisively. “What planet are you from? No way. Your gift to him is not showing up and telling his wife what you know. Your relationship with Bentley ends right here, right now. Now light that invitation up and say the words again: I release you.”

Was she really going to do this? It was stupid, really. And she really should send a present. And yet a second later she was holding the announcement above the flame and watching the corner light up.

She was doing it. She was actually doing it.

“I release you,” she said, and man it felt good—like she really was letting go.

She held the announcement as long as she could, turning it in the air to burn as much of it as possible before she dropped it in the bowl and watched it turn to glowing ash.

“Is it gone?” Mike asked.

“Yeah.”

“Okay, then you’re ready for the final step. Pick up the bowl.”

This was so stupid. Why was she suddenly taking it seriously? “Got it.”

“Now lift the lid to the toilet and pour the ashes in.”

This time she did laugh. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. It’s time to let Bentley go, Rori.”

“Into the toilet.”

“Isn’t that where you usually purge things out of your body?”

“Mike?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re weird.”

“So noted. Have you dumped the ashes yet?”

Oh, what the hell. Rori tipped the bowl, letting the ashes fall into the water below. “Done.”

“Now flush, and as the ashes swirl into the abyss, repeat the words ‘I release you’ one last time.”

“And then I’m done?”

“Then you’re done.”

“Fine.” She looked at the ashes soaking below her and reached for the handle. “I release you, asshole.” Then she flushed and walked out of the bathroom.

“Feel better?” he asked.

Actually, yeah. She did. Much better, although it offended her sensibilities to admit as much.

“It’s okay,” he coaxed. “You can admit it.”

“Mike?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad you called.”

“Anytime,” he replied. “And if you have a relapse, you know who to call, right?”

“Indeed,” she agreed.

“Perfect,” he said. “Then my work here is done. I’ll get back to editing.”

“And I’ll get back to work as well.”

“Alright. Have a good night.”

Rori had no doubt that she would as she and Mike hung up and her eyes moved to the flower girl piece.

Yes, she was definitely finishing that tonight.

Chapter 38

July

Rori wasn’t quite sure how she and Mike ended up talking so often, but somehow there was always an excuse for a call. She waited for him to call first, of course. Mike was certainly the king of random questions that somehow turned out to be insightful. But Rori had learned that if she sent him a few texts on the nights he didn’t call, that he would call rather than respond to multiple texts.

Mike Cannon was a talker, not a texter. And once the two of them started talking, the call usually went late into the night—especially for Rori, since her time zone was two hours ahead of his.

In the past Rori had always worked in silence or put on a playlist to get her in the right head space. It turned out for this project, however, that Mike’s voice was the perfect soundtrack no matter which piece she was working on. It didn’t really matter what he said. For some reason Rori was just more focused and less stressed with his sexy voice in her ear and images of his body in her mind. It was her new version of a cup of coffee.

But she still had to sleep on occasion.

“I should probably go,” Rori said, looking at the clock. She should be asleep, but somehow she wasn’t tired. Hormones were amazing like that. Sleep always came in second. “I teach tomorrow.”

“Of course,” Mike said on the other side of the line. “Didn’t mean to keep you up.”

Part of her panicked when she realized Mike was going to let her go. Yes, she needed to sleep, but she also wasn’t done hearing his voice yet.

“No problem,” she said. “But before I go…” She didn’t really have an ending to that sentence.

“Yeah?” he prompted.

Rori scrambled, trying to find something to ask him. “Uh, I know we never talk about it because of the awkward factor, but how are Luke and your sister doing? They happy?”

“Yeah,” he said after a moment of

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