Chapter 38
W hen I got home the next day, I was surprised to find Morgan sitting on my couch as if I had left him there.
“You aren’t at your place?” I said. “And how did you get a key to my place?”
“You gave it to me the night you got shitfaced hammered after the disaster with Burnson Investments,” he said. “You said that for what I did for you, I could have a key anytime I needed help from you. And, well…”
“What the hell did Edwin Hunt do to you?”
Morgan just laughed.
“He was paying for my place,” he said. “Was. Then he got the leasing officer to kick me out and warned that if I tried to keep the place, he would destroy me with legal fees until I cried for mercy. I figured I could at least come here.”
“Of course,” I said, but I was just feeling sick rage at Edwin Hunt. His only son! And he treated him like a piece of garbage to dispose of. “You and I are going to operate MCH out of his apartment.”
“Good,” he said. “Between Rising Sun and Virtual Realty, we have quite the portfolio to start.”
“Yeah,” I mumbled, even though I knew only half of that was true.
Morgan seemed to pick up on my hesitation, because he looked at me askance. My attention, though, was taken up by something else.
Normally, I didn’t give a shit about Facebook other than to check it maybe once every blue moon or so. But today, a notification popped up containing a name I hadn’t seen in ages, a name that elicited old memories I thought I had left behind.
“Chance?”
I heard Morgan, but I ignored him. I opened up the friend request to see who it was, thinking that maybe it was a coincidence. Their name was common enough.
But, no, it was definitely them.
“Chance? What’s going on? What haven’t you told me?”
Sarah Hill.