Romancing the Grump (Appies, #4)

by Jenny Proctor

weeks since he last messaged—since before I quit—so this is unexpected. JACKHOLE DA Summer, was wondering if you could call and give me some feedback on the Helms case. The file notes don’t seem complete. I’m still staring at the message thread when a second message pops up. I thought about you today. All day. The first text makes me furious—after everything, he still thinks he has the right to text me? The second one just makes me feel gross. Bare minimum, the district attorney I worked under for two years should have lost his job for the way he spoke to me. But he was good—crafty. His words were always just veiled enough to seem innocent. The man was completely spineless, and I knew it, so I never felt threatened, but it was still more than I should have had to deal with. Finally, I snapped. I made the phone call. Filed the complaint. Made all the reports I needed to make. Then I accepted the job to work with the Appies and waited for Jason P. Roscoe to get his comeuppance. What he got was a slap on the hand. A stern talking to from the state attorney general. Turns out, being a first-class jerk isn’t grounds enough for dismissal. How nice. I delete both his messages, then block his number. I should have done it a long time ago, and the satisfaction of doing so now fills me with an immediate sense of calm. I’m in control of this situation, and there’s nothing Jason Roscoe can say or do that will ever pull me back into his orbit.