“And”—I take a step on the stairs—“Raven will be going to work with me. She can intern. Clearly, she needs to keep busy even if her mother doesn’t care whether she fucks random men. I do. It’s bad for my name, your name. I refuse for it to go around our circle that your daughter is a whore.” That shuts her ugly red lips that were getting ready to spew more jealous venom. Turning, I take the stairs two at a time.

“Jett, I’m sorry. I didn’t think about it like that. You’re right. She can’t be screwing around. I’m mortified.” She pants after me, but I’m done with her tonight. Too fucking raw.

I need a shower and sleep. I’ll deal with everything in the morning when I don’t feel like I’m ready to murder someone.

That includes my Lolita.

Chapter Twenty

RAVEN

“Get up.”

I blink my eyes open. “Oh, God, that’s a lot of light.” Rolling to my back, I fling my arm over my eyes to shield me from the morning sun Jett let into my room.

“We’re leaving in forty-five minutes.” His hypnotic voice makes me peek up at him. He’s dressed in a starched white dress shirt, sapphire-colored tie, and black suit slacks. My face instantly heats when I remember the dream I was just having about him.

“Wait, what?” I stop as the debacle of last night rolls over me. One second I’m peaceful, the next I want to roll up in a ball and hide.

The bar… how? Out of hundreds of bars, that’s the one I picked? Then the redhead, Andrew, and Jax Saddington.

Jesus, Raven.

Why didn’t I simply get a room? I could have gotten drunk watching Friends, not having Jett Powers glaring down at me, saying something about forty-five minutes. Did I agree to something and I’m not remembering?

No. I wasn’t that drunk. Tipsy, yes. I did slam two large martinis on an empty stomach, but I still remember… unfortunately.

I wonder if I pretended I was drunk from earlier, and that’s why I went to the bar. Because my thinking was impaired. No, that won’t work. My bitch of a mom saw me before I left. Also, it was clear I was there to hook up with someone. Oh God.

“Raven. Get up and take a shower,” he demands.

My eyes dart to his, and I nod, not sure what I’m agreeing to, but it involves him, so that makes me breathless. The last thing I heard last night was my mother screaming that he hasn’t touched her since I showed up.

“Good. Wear what I’ve laid out for you.” Again, it’s a demand, but his eyes caress my face. He turns to leave.