The Rebound Guy Read Online Free PDF Page B

included this kind of hiccup. But what else could he do? Let his sister and autistic nephew get kicked out of their home? Stability and routine were paramount to Little Myron’s progress. His sister and brother-in-law’s divorce had been enough of a disruption already. The kid didn’t need any more stress.
    He checked both his checking and savings accounts. Even if he were to deplete them both, he’d still be short six thousand dollars of what Niecy needed.
    Dex leaned away from the computer and massaged the back of his neck, staring at the collection of Star Wars figurines on the shelf mounted above his desk.
    Niecy said she had about a month, which meant he had to come up with a plan right away.
    Roxie scratched at the door, barking like a maniac...or like a dog that had been forced to hold her bladder for too many hours. Dexter got up and grabbed the leash from the hook on the back of the door. He had enough on his plate; he didn’t need to add cleaning up a puddle of dog piss to it.
     

 
     
    Chapter Three
     
     
    Asia stuffed a handful of popcorn in her mouth and wiped her fingers on the dish cloth she’d carried in from the kitchen. She washed the popcorn down with a healthy sip of the ’02 Sauvignon Blanc that had been in her collection for seven years.
    It was that kind of night.
    Helena had asked for her input on a press statement she’d written about a sex tape that had surfaced online. It starred the executive vice president of a tech company that had just gone public on the New York Stock Exchange. Investors were not pleased with the VP’s movie debut.
    Her cell phone chimed. It was Cortland answering the text she’d sent him a few minutes ago.
    Been gone a week. UR just contacting me?
    That was unfair. She’d texted him the night he left. She just hadn’t gotten around to contacting him since then.
    And it had not been a week. Only six days.
    Work has been crazy ! Asia replied.
    When isn’t it? Face it. U don’t have time 4 me.
    Can we please discuss this? She texted.
    Her work phone rang. It was Helena.
    “I’m almost done,” Asia told her. “You did a good job of glossing over the details without outright lying. Have you heard back from the reporter who contacted you?”
    Asia ignored the second chime coming from her personal phone as Helena gave her a play-by-play recount of the conversation she’d just had with a writer from one of the major newspapers. She experienced a moment of pride as Helena described how she’d appeased the reporter’s insistent questions. It took tact, skill, and a lot of guts to stand up to the New York media, but that was a key part of a crisis manager’s job. As the one who’d trained Helena, Asia figured she deserved a pat on the back.
    “Excellent,” she said. “You should receive my revisions to the written statement within the next few minutes. We’ll release it in the morning.”
    She ended the call with Helena and, a couple of minutes later, emailed the document. Her phone chimed again.
    Shit. She’d forgotten about Cortland. There were three text messages waiting for her:
    Asia?
    Asia, where R U?
    Fuck this. I’m done.
    She texted back Sorry, had to take a call , but when twenty minutes went by without a reply, she decided apology by text message wouldn’t cut it. She changed into jeans and a lightweight sweater and headed for the Upper West Side.
    When Asia arrived at the post-WWI building in Morningside Heights a few blocks from the campus of Columbia University, where Cortland had attended law school, she buzzed the apartment he’d shared with his best friend, Rodney Sanderson. Ironically, Asia had introduced Rodney to the woman he would marry at the end of the month, a former client, Elizabeth Harrington.
    “Who is it?” came Rodney’s voice through the speaker.
    “It’s Asia. Tell Cortland I’m not leaving without speaking to him.”
    There was a pause, and as Rodney started to speak again, a delivery truck passed, drowning out his