When My Ex's Worst Enemy Became My Sanctuary novel Chapter 267

Wade glared at the message request on his phone, practically fuming. That night was a total fluke.

Without hesitation, he hit reject.

“Maggie, find us a different law firm.”

“Huh? Mr. Gates, was there something wrong with today’s appointment?”

Wade scoffed silently. “The firm is fine. The problem is with the people. Just do it.”

“…Alright.”

When the day ended, Wade headed to the bar he’d invested in, hoping to unwind. Lately, he was between relationships and honestly just sick of it all. All he wanted tonight was a little peace and quiet.

Of course, with his luck, Patrick showed up.

Gone was the polished, gentle lawyer from earlier. Patrick now wore a black shirt, the top buttons undone, showing off sharp collarbones and an air of cool detachment that somehow made him even more tempting. His glasses were nowhere in sight, and his dark eyes sparkled with mischief.

“Wade. Fancy seeing you here.”

Wade rolled his eyes and turned away, swirling his drink and pretending Patrick didn’t exist.

Patrick, apparently clueless about personal space, plopped down right next to him. His presence was overwhelming, and the subtle scent of woodsy cologne drifted over.

Wade frowned. During the day, Patrick looked like a stand-up guy. At night, he was just ridiculous.

“Patrick, we’re not close. Can you not sit so near?”

“Near?” Patrick’s voice was low and lazy. He grinned. “We’ve been a lot closer than this, remember? Or do you not want to relive that night?”

Wade immediately slid over a seat. “No. Patrick, listen. I’m not interested. We’re both tops, okay? That night was a mistake. I was drunk. If I’d been sober, there’s no way I’d have let you…”

He stormed out of the bar, practically running.

Patrick watched him go, eyes narrowed, an unreadable look on his face.

Back in his car, Wade immediately told his assistant to dig up information on Patrick. He remembered Patrick was from the James family, always described as reliable and undefeated in court. There’d been talk about an engagement to someone from the George family.

“Mr. Gates, I found his info. Sent to your phone.”

Wade opened the file. Patrick, thirty-three. Engagement to Bonita, called off three months ago. Nothing on him for a while after that.

So, two months after breaking off his engagement, Patrick had ended up in his bed.

The thought made Wade’s skin crawl. He hated being someone’s rebound.