Total pages in book: 167
Estimated words: 157162 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157162 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
My guts began churning with unease, all warmth and desire gone from my blood as reality came hurtling back. Weight settled on my shoulders like a thousand-ton dumbbell.
My father’s smile disappeared. The man knew me well and had likely read the change in my own expression.
“I’ll go talk to Rowan,” he declared, rubbing the back of his neck. I knew he felt the weight of responsibility on his shoulders too, blaming himself for decisions that led us to this point. Even though he wasn’t in charge anymore, and I’d made my share of mistakes when it came to the business. Not that I’d call the mortgages I’d taken out as a mistake. It was the fucking wrong decisions I made with suppliers, employees, accounting shit. All of that was my brother’s area, but he hadn’t been able to handle it, and no way would I add to his load.
“No, we’ll pay.” I took a tone I didn’t like with my father, but my pride was somewhat wounded, and this outstanding debt had kept me up at night. I didn’t mind owing people a favor, but money, a large sum of it for good work done… Yeah, that didn’t sit right with me. Especially when Kip and Rowan were respectable men with families to think about.
They’d issued the invoice before the news of Clara’s illness went public, then they’d come in person to the restaurant to inform me that they didn’t expect payment. I’d argued heavily at that, but then I’d watched bill after bill come in for treatment, and I’d taken them up on their offer.
I’d swallow my pride, bones and all, for Clara. I’d do anything for her.
An instinct told me that neither Rowan nor Kip knew Calliope had come to see me. I’d heard through the grapevine that she’d taken over the financial side of their construction business, so it stood to reason she didn’t operate under the same agreements as they did. Whether or not she knew about Clara’s condition remained to be seen. I doubted someone in Rowan’s family would be so callous, but Calliope Derrick seemed to wear callous like a badge of honor.
“Elliot…” my father ventured, not knowing the true nature of our finances since I’d taken over but knowing enough to understand we were drowning.
“I’ve got it, Dad.” I made sure my voice was softer this time. Forcing a smile, I clapped him on the shoulder, looking him in the eye. “We’ve got nothing to worry about. Let’s head out.”
It was the first time I’d lied to my father.
Not the first time I’d lied to myself.
Four
Ain’t No Man — The Avett Brothers
CALLIOPE
One of the many things I hated about small towns—beyond the lack of Postmates options and good Chinese food—was that word traveled fast.
I’d excepted it to happen at some point, but not the same fucking day. I didn’t peg Elliot Shaw as a loudmouth. He had a quiet strength, nobility underneath that cheerful veneer. I reasoned if you cut him open, he’d be good, right down to the core.
But I could’ve been wrong.
I’d just poured myself a drink in the hopes of erasing the memory of Elliot Shaw’s smile from my mind. Since when did I get horny from a man smiling?
“Calliope,” Rowan growled. I knew he was mad because he hadn’t bothered to knock and had slammed the front door on his approach.
Dramatic much?
I glanced up from my laptop to see him stomping into the house, face a mask of fury. His bearded jaw was tight; large, muscled body taut with tension.
“I told you to fuckin’ let it go,” he snarled at me, not bothering to open with small talk.
I closed my laptop, keeping my expression unchanged in the face of my brother’s wrath.
“And that’s your mistake since you know me well enough to know I never let things go.”
Rowan glared at me, laying his hands flat on the kitchen counter. “This isn’t the fucking place for your bullshit, Cal.” Rowan glared at me. “This isn’t Wall Street, where you get to tear apart people, uncaring of the carnage you leave behind. This is a small town of good fucking people.”
I regarded him, pretending his opinions of me didn’t hit me like a blow. He was correct, after all; I did tear people apart for a living. “I wouldn’t call delivering an invoice tearing someone apart,” I finger quoted. “And Elliot didn’t seem torn apart whatsoever when I gave it to him.”
Sipping my martini, my mind flickered back to what Elliot had seemed. Confident. Laid-back. Perceptive. Sexually attuned to his body in a way that he radiated that he was a good fuck with nothing but a twinkle in his eye.
“Of course, he fucking didn’t,” Rowan’s nostrils flared on a heavy exhale. “Elliot Shaw is a good man, as is his father and his brother. They won’t match what you give them. They’ll treat you with the respect you didn’t afford them.”