From his spot on the couch, Jackson’s eyes were two pillars of ice that nailed into Tiffany. “Where’ve you been? Who in this world has the power to command Tiffany Lane out of the house with a mere phone call?”
Her tongue rebelled against the thought of recounting that embarrassing impasse. “Er, it’s n-nobody. It’s a tiny thing that I can handle on my own, no problem. Don’t worry about me; get some rest soon.”
Apprehension shrouded his eyes. “Am I being cuckolded?”
“Holy sh*t, whaaaaaaat?!” Tiffany’s eyes widened. “D-Don’t suggest ludicrous things — as if I’m that kind of person! Look, this isn’t something I’m comfortable with telling you right now, okay? But I promise I’ll tell you all about it when it’s settled!”
Jackson was too impatient. “If there’s nothing to hide, you wouldn’t mind letting me browse through your phone for a bit, would you? It’s not like you’ve never checked mine. Give it to me!”
Tiffany had not saved the P.I.’s number in her new phone, which, coupled with the fact that she had received several unsaved numbers earlier today, meant that Jackson might miss the P.I.’s number among her call history. Hence, after a brief moment of hesitation, she handed the phone over to him. “Fine, enjoy yourself!”
Unexpectedly, Jackson had memorized the time when the P.I. called her; hence, he scrolled through the call history with a goal in mind until he found and dialed it.
At that moment, Tiffany felt her breathing stop. She wanted him to have no part of her business. He must not know!
“I'm sorry, the number you have reached is not in service.”
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