Lost Me, Gained Regret (Jane and Bryant Ferguson) novel Chapter 322

The questions were sharp, no doubt about it. But Gregory didn’t seem flustered at all. He gestured for me to come closer with a hook of his finger. “Lean in. I’ll tell you.”

I moved a few inches. “Go ahead.”

Given the limited space in the car and with no one else around except the driver, all the secrecy seemed a bit over the top.

He moved a bit closer, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, testing the limits of annoyance.“I just can’t stand people who are too slow on the uptake.”

I straightened up, glaring at him. “So, should I be thanking you for enlightening me?”

“I wouldn’t mind,” he said with a polite smile.

He always held a cheeky demeanor like that. But I couldn’t discount his assistance earlier. I lowered my gaze. “Thanks for what you did back there.”

His fingers tapped casually against the windowsill. “Even if I hadn’t shown up, they would’ve let you go eventually.”

I smiled bitterly. “But not without making me suffer a bit more.”

The Myers family wouldn’t let things slide so easily. With the scandal blowing up online, Dorothy would vent all her fury on me. And afterward, I’d barely breathe.

“It won’t come to that.” Gregory’s smile was faint as if he had seen through it all. “The longer you stay with the Myers family, the more they expose themselves online. Dorothy and Susan may be clueless, but Richard is sharp.”

“Is he now...”

Poor Bryant got caught between a rock and a hard place. On one hand, he was linked to the Myers family by marriage. On the other, he was stirring trouble with them to save me.

Gregory shot me a sidelong glance. “Worried about your ex, are you?”

The sarcasm was unmistakable.

I looked at him. “Do you think Bryant would go to any lengths for me?”

“That guy is always playing it safe, way too cautious,” Gregory lounged back in his seat, his voice lazy, “So, no.”

I shrugged. “Then why worry?”

I explained, “Just need to pick something up.”

Without another word, he instructed the driver. “Sir, could you pull over here, please?”

Once the car stopped, I hopped out, bracing against the biting wind. I intended to dash into the alley, but my knee was slightly wounded, making my movement awkward. Thankfully, the streets were nearly empty at the hour.

I found a pottery studio where the artisan recognized me and quickly handed me two ceramic pieces. “Ms. Webster, this one, you made yourself, and this one, I crafted from the photo you provided.”

I said, “Thanks, that's perfect.”

The artisan asked, “Do you need them wrapped?”

“Just a bag will do.” Leaving the studio, I clutched the eco-friendly paper bag and returned to the car.

“Greg...”I was about to speak when I realized he had dozed off, sprawling lazily. I settled back quietly, only to hear a murmured, “Hmm?” emanating from his chest.