Larissa's POV
I powered off my laptop and rolled my shoulders back. That damn contract had been haunting me all day, sitting in my bag like a ticking bomb. Every time I tried to concentrate on work, my mind wandered back to Carson's insane proposal.
My phone chimed as I packed up my desk.
My pulse quickened. Maybe it was Wesley crawling back with another pathetic apology after I'd found him screwing my so-called friend. Or perhaps Denise checking if I was still breathing. She'd been sending worried messages every few hours since the party fiasco, convinced I might do something dramatic.
Unknown Number: I'll be there at 8 p.m. Dress to impress, something that shows off those curves. We're having dinner together.
I blinked at the screen in disbelief.
Carson Gary. Who else would have the balls to text me like he already owned me?
