Chapter 93

Since my day is almost over and I’m still too exasperated by the damn photo to concentrate, I decide to grab a few files and go home to work.

“Home” is the key word. Marcus and I have been spending more and more time on his yacht since that’s where he keeps his drafting table and other work tools. As for me, I like to lie down on the comfortable loungers with a glass of wine and relax with the sound and sway of the sea. In fact, that’s what I’d like to do tonight. But I can’t, and that pisses me off.

Tonight, my destination isn’t the yacht but my apartment. It’s not that I don’t love my apartment—I do. But I’d prefer to sleep there because I feel like it, not because the damn paparazzi are messing with our lives.

And yes, I trust the marina managers are doing their job. None of those roaches have access to the ship or even the parking lot. But that didn’t stop us from being photographed last night, and that invasion was already too much for me.

Tonight, I’ll