Series: Webs We Weave Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 167
Estimated words: 162520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 813(@200wpm)___ 650(@250wpm)___ 542(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 162520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 813(@200wpm)___ 650(@250wpm)___ 542(@300wpm)
During their confrontation, Trevor Tinrock even did a smart, unprompted thing and cut the DJ’s music at a great time. Right when Rocky accused Trent of some vile shit. People heard. Chelsea Noknoi and a few other country club servers have texted me and Hailey, asking if it’s true.
I know Rocky hates he’s lost his connection to Trent, but I’m elated he no longer has to buddy up to that prick. Hopefully the town’s sympathy toward Trent will wane, and they’ll realize he’s still a garbage human.
Rocky’s little brother really came through in the clutch last night. I’d give him props if I thought he wanted a pat on the back from me, but I’m certain he values my opinion like I’m a tiny rusted cog in this machine of deceit. He wants validation from his older siblings. Which is fine—as long as he’s not putting a hit out on anyone.
Right now, he’s sitting against the mini fridge, and he’s wearing sunglasses indoors, drowning his sweet potato pancakes in syrup.
Hailey picks apart a powdered donut. “And I’m supposed to pretend like I could still be interested in Trent, even though he roofied my best friend.” Her eyes darken, and I look around the room.
Nova squirts hot sauce on his breakfast burrito like this is the correct path. No one pipes in. Not even to curse out Trent, and I realize that while I was sleeping, they’ve all probably discussed Hailey’s trajectory for the job without me.
They definitely discussed Hailey’s pregnancy, because Trevor has been asking if he should go by “Uncle Trev” or “Uncle Trevor.”
No one brings up the elephant in the room, but I’ve been thinking about it all morning. Howie could’ve so easily slipped something in my best friend’s drink.
At least it wasn’t Hailey.
She’s pregnant. At least it wasn’t her, but I was incapacitated, a burden to the team, and worse, I wasn’t there to protect my best friend from drunken Caufield fuckbags. Instead, she had to switch into my role, and my skin crawls imagining repulsive, leering men surrounding her while she feared assault.
Nausea still roils. Is this what Hailey feels when she watches me? Is this why she risked everything to bring us here for a fresh start? Because right now, I would drag her to the Antarctic if I thought it’d save her from a repeat of last night.
I poke at my scrambled eggs. I can barely eat, but I check the time on my phone. “I have a shift in a couple hours.” I abandon my breakfast on the coffee table and climb off the sofa.
“You’re going to work?” Jake whips his head from me to Rocky, like he’s expecting him to stop me. I do feel the eternal hellfire off Rocky’s tunneling, intrusive gaze. It silently scorches me, but he’s not barricading me from the exit.
For one, I’m still in sweatpants and a T-shirt. I need to actually get ready to serve a dozen mimosas and even more crab cakes on this drizzling Sunday afternoon.
“We,” Hailey says. “I’m on the schedule with her.” She hops up beside me.
Which causes Jake to stand. “Take the day off. Both of you.”
“We don’t want to lose our jobs,” I remind him, and I catch Rocky rolling his eyes. I flip him off, and normally I’d snark back that some of us (i.e., me and Hailey) have come to enjoy our time at the country club, but I can’t dislodge the ball from my throat.
Not as my brothers stare deeper into me, too.
“You might lose your jobs anyway. I’ll have to make cuts at the end of the summer if I can’t turn around membership,” Jake admits into a sip of his coffee.
Rocky’s brows rise. “And my sister and Phoebe are first on your chopping block?”
“It’s not personal.” Jake sighs.
“Obviously, we know that,” Hailey chimes in softly. She slips me a What if? look. What if we ditch work?
Jake must detect my hesitation. “This isn’t a suggestion, Phoebe. I’m telling you you’re not clocking into a shift today. I’ll call Katherine and let her know you both won’t be there. Take this time to process what’s happened.”
“I think that’s a good idea,” Nova chimes in, his overprotective brotherly concern like hot coals to the face and not a cozy blanket. Oliver is the comfort, and he’s offering me a gentle smile and light shoulder shrug.
I cross my arms, unsure of how I feel, but I start fixating on Rocky. “You aren’t going to tell Jake to stop being bossy?” I’m glaring.
His glare is coarser. “You were drugged. People saw Oliver carrying you out of the party. Do you really want to spend all day at the club volleying nosy fucking questions from rich old ladies? You don’t want to talk about it, Phebs, fine, but you go to work, they will bring it up.”