Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 101764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
So when I parked at Top Shelf with only three minutes to spare, something I never did, I felt justified in my mild panic.
My stupid piece of crap car took a solid ten minutes to start again. If I didn’t take it into the auto shop soon, I’d likely get stuck on the side of the highway in a snowstorm, but who had the extra cash for an expensive car repair lying around?
Not me.
Grumbling, I shut off the car and hustled out into a cold, dark Wednesday night. Someone hovered near the rear staff entrance, hunched against the cold, illuminated by the floodlight above the door. Whoever it was faced away from the lot, speaking to someone on the phone.
“Yes, I am taking this seriously.” Silence, then, “Okay, I get it.” An arm flew up as a huff left the frustrated speaker.
Ryder.
I recognized the ridiculously thick gold ring he wore on his left middle finger. Some dumb family crest he’d worn since the day I met him. It was gaudy as hell, a monstrosity with rubies and diamonds glinting in the floodlight. Exactly the type of thing you’d expect a rich frat boy to wear. Ryder probably rubbed his dick on it to get off.
“Could we talk in the morning, Dad? This is an important conversation, and I’m late for—”
Silence again.
“What do I want to talk to you about? Um…”
I’d never heard anything but confidence crossing into arrogance from Ryder. Not tonight. His voice was hesitant, almost fearful, and it had me feeling like an intruder. I slowed, then glanced over my shoulder. Should I return to my car to give him some privacy? Parker would kill me if I came in late, but this conversation seemed private.
“Well, I want to talk about my future. My plans for my future.” The conviction in Ryder’s voice had me frowning. His future? Wasn’t he getting an MBA, then sliding into some high-ranking role at his father’s corporation until the day he took over? He’d sure bragged about it enough back in high school.
This silence lasted longer than the previous, probably filled with his father’s words. Unhappy ones if the way Ryder curled in on himself was any indication.
“W-what?” Ryder whispered. “What do you mean you refuse to entertain any ideas I have for the future? Yes, I know the plan has always been for me to take over CallCore, but I—”
The abject devastation in his tone froze me halfway between the door and my car. Ryder hadn’t noticed me hovering, but he would if I tried to sneak inside. His body blocked most of the door. No way could I go around him without alerting him to my presence, and he’d know I’d heard his half of a conversation I had no business hearing.
“I’m a goddamn adult,” Ryder growled into the phone, his voice rising. “I’m allowed to have my own vision for my future.”
My heart kicked into overdrive as I glanced at my car. If I started back, I’d be caught. If I moved forward, I’d be caught. So I stood there like a living statue, freezing my balls off as time ticked by, and my shift started without me. We were a solid five minutes into both of our shifts.
“No… I…” Ryder sighed again. The heavy sound twisted my insides.
“This is not a negotiation, Ryder.” His father screamed so loud on his end that his voice came through the phone, making me jump.
Shit, that was one angry man.
“Do not fuck me over. You are my son, and you will fulfill your role or find a new goddamn family.”
I gasped.
What the fuck? Who dictated to their adult son like that?
Ryder whipped around. The second he saw me, his eyes widened with horror.
We stared at each other, both wearing dismayed expressions.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I had to be the last person he wanted to catch him in a vulnerable moment. “I… uh… I’m late,” I muttered, scurrying around him to get to the door. “Sorry.” I slipped inside, leaving him slack-jawed as his father’s irate voice still reverberated through the phone.
I dressed, or undressed, as quickly as possible, then rushed out to the floor to set up my tables for the first reservation. When another five minutes passed without Ryder, I paused beside his unprepared table.
Had he left? Would he be a no-show for the shift? If so, it’d be the last one he worked. Parker had very little mercy for guys who flaked on work.
I sighed and then went to the stock room, where I grabbed extra napkins and glasses. After depositing some on Ryder’s tables and the rest on mine, I arranged them in the artful way we always did.
The least I could do was help the guy out a little. He was having a shitty night, and he’d sucked my dick, after all.