Bella Reynolds
The car ride from court to home was miserable. I couldn't stop thinking about Adam's grip on my arm, his fingers brushing my cheek, his breath on my ear. But most importantly, his sexy accent in whatever foreign language he was speaking. My whole ride was me telling myself to stop thinking about that sexy devil because he is my fucking enemy.
As I arrive at the mansion ready to attack Rendell with him keeping secrets from me, my gaze goes to the big bouquet of black roses lying on the table at the entrance to the dining room. Who could it be for?
My unasked question is answered by one of the maids. "This was delivered 10 minutes before you arrived, Ms. Reynolds. Do you want it in your room?"
Woah. It's for me. Is this Rendell's way of saying sorry? He is not that romantic. Who cares? At least he knows how to change my mood.
"No. I'll take care of it. You can leave," I tell her without taking my eyes off the bouquet. I can see the note peeking out of the roses, begging me to read it. I make my way to the bouquet ready to read it. I try to count the roses on my way. 50 fucking roses.
I read the small note.
Why just wear black when you can do much better than that? Also, there are fewer bitter options than black coffee.
A(SA)W
What the fuck? This note sounds exactly like someone I loathe with my whole heart. Who does he think he is, sending me flowers? The audacity of this Devil. What's wrong with the name in this note? Has he changed his name? What does SA mean?
I am ready to tell someone to throw these cursed flowers out of the mansion when my phone vibrates in my purse. I instantly get my phone out of my purse to check the message.
It's from an unknown number. I think I know who this unknown number belongs to.
Unknown: How did you like my roses?
Me: I didn't.
Unknown: Why? Were you expecting a love confession in that note? Sorry to disappoint, cherry.
What the hell?
Me: Who the hell are you calling cherry?
Unknown: It's not a group chat. You, of course.
Me: Don't call me that.
Unknown: You love cherries. It's only fair I call you that.
Me: How do you know?
Unknown: Call me and I'll tell you.
Me: No fucking way.
Unknown: Language, cherry. We are professionals. I am sure we can text each other without cursing.
Me: Don't change the topic. Tell me how do you know I like cherries?
Unknown: Have coffee with me (not black) and I'll tell you how I know that.
Me: No way. Don't ever do what you did today.
Unknown: What? Touch your arm or send you flowers?
Me: Both. What is SA in your note?
Unknown: My middle name.
Me: Which is?
Unknown: Do you have a memory of a goldfish? You gave me the middle name.
Me: Are you still in your dreamland, Walton? I don't remember anything like that.
YOU ARE READING
The Adam Walton Effect
RomanceBella's life takes an unexpected turn when her husband is arrested as a suspect in the murder of his colleague. She will do anything to get the love of her life out of jail. The only problem is, she will be facing her sworn enemy, Adam Walton, in c...
