It wasn't until I'd strutted out of the building that I realized maybe I'd been a tad impulsive.
But holy s**t, it felt good.
I was halfway down the street when my phone rang.
"Mrs. Laurent," Dominic greeted.
I physically flinched.
Hearing it out loud was way worse than seeing it in a text.
"Mr. Everett."
"Please, just call me Dom. I just wanted to remind you," he went on, all polite and corporate, "that if there's no activity on the card, the account will be frozen before the next monthly deposit."
I stopped dead on the pavement. "What do you mean 'frozen'?"
"I mean you must spend the funds. There needs to be a transaction history, or the account locks automatically."
I stared at my reflection in a shop window.
My mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
Wh
