Chapter 75

Ryan? Here? In my office? I sit there for a second, gripping the arms of my chair. Susan stands by the door, clearly uncomfortable with the tension I’m radiating. “Should I… send him away?” she says. The temptation to scream, ‘Yes, send him back to whatever rock he crawled out from,’ comes for a second. But instead, I smooth my expression, plastering on a look of indifference. I can be professional about this. “No,” I say. “Send him in.” Susan gives me a small nod, relief flashing across her face as she retreats. My stomach twists in anticipation, a mixture of anger, confusion, and—God help me—curiosity. What the hell is he doing here? And right after my mother’s bombshell text? The door opens, and there he is. Ryan O’Brien, in the flesh. He looks the same as he always has: tall, broad-shouldered, exuding that maddening air of effortless charm that first drew me to him. His suit fits perfectly, of course, dark navy that probably cost more than most people’s cars. His eyes sweep the roo