The Rebound Guy by Farrah Rochon Read Free Book Online

Nina provided.
    Asia drank more wine, tipping her head back and nearly draining the glass.
    Cortland hadn’t been willing to settle, so why should she? Maybe she was lucky. Maybe his leaving was the best thing that could have happened to her.
    But it didn’t change the fact that he’d humiliated her. And hurt her. Purposely. He’d been unconscionably cruel this evening, throwing his girlfriend in her face, criticizing her skills in the bedroom. As if he was Casanova’s second cousin. How many times had she been left to finish on her own what he had failed to accomplish?
    “Too damn many times,” Asia bit out.
    Her pride felt as if it had gone ten rounds in a boxing ring, but she refused to allow Cortland to completely annihilate her self-confidence. She wanted—no, she needed —to show him that she was not the cold, unfeeling robot he’d described. She would show him that she could entice and keep a man.
    “Even if I have to hire him.”
    Asia drained the rest of the wine from the glass, then pushed up from the sofa and went into the kitchen, grabbing her purse from where she’d set it on the counter. She pulled out her wallet and spotted the black business card tucked behind a stack of twenties.
    She’d initially tossed out the card Dexter Bryant had set on her credenza, but, for a reason she had been too ashamed to explore at the moment, she’d fished it out of the garbage and slipped it into her wallet.
    She grabbed the Sauvignon Blanc and climbed back up the stairs that led from the kitchen to the living room. She sat on the sofa and stared at the card, studying the silver imprint standing in stark relief on the black background. Then, before she could talk herself out of it, she took a fortifying gulp straight from the bottle and dialed the number.
     

 
     
    Chapter Four
     
     
    Dexter gazed out of the large window of the coffee shop, watching the men and women in their business suits hustle to their next high-powered sales meeting, or analyst meeting, or whatever kind of meetings were filling up their schedules. He hardly thought back to the days when he was one of them. Even though it had only been two years, it seemed like a lifetime ago.
    A twinge of bitterness pinched his chest, but he dismissed it.
    Dex peered down at the pressed khakis and button-down he’d opted for today. He’d included a tie, but left the jacket at home. He could choose not to wear a monkey suit. They couldn’t. He would be a fool to want to trade places with the people hurrying along the sidewalk.
    Surveying the stream of customers waiting impatiently in line for their caffeine fix, he checked his watch, wondering whether Asia had decided against this meeting.
    He’d nearly dropped his phone when he’d answered it last night and heard her cool, subtly authoritative voice on the other end of the line, requesting a meeting with him as soon as possible. Dex was still questioning the wisdom of agreeing to it. Even though he was between clients right now, he didn’t need the headache of dealing with someone who was likely still dawdling around in Denial Land.
    He had enough on his plate dealing with the problem of Niecy’s back mortgage payments. On top of that, he was still trying to figure out what to make of the comments that Alena’s “Rebound Guy” blog post continued to garner. It was clear that he had a long way to go in convincing people that his brand of providing relationship advice was a valid business model.
    But something in Asia’s voice last night had needled him. He’d heard a barely discernible tremble that had conflicted with the direct, self-assured woman who’d ordered him out of her office a week ago. He wanted to know just what her deal was.
    Dex glanced at his watch again. She was a half-hour late, which, for the kind of woman he’d pegged her to be—a consummate professional who would rather get hit by a speeding car than show up late to an appointment—probably meant she wasn’t showing up