Edison glanced down at his own selection then over at what Bishop had his hand. His face broke into a megawatt smile that almost blinded him. “Audiobooks. Nice. I love those, I have at least—”
“Man. Not cool, Edison,” A guy said rudely, talking over Edison’s calm voice. He’d come from out of nowhere. Or maybe Bishop just hadn’t bothered to notice anyone else. The guy Edison had been sitting with in the café was standing behind him practically frowning at the back of his skull. “You could’ve waited. I said I was wrapping up an email.”
Bishop watched Edison take a deep breath before bothering to turn and acknowledge his friend. “Wait for what, Skylar?”
“It’s just Sky. I told you that a million times. I know you hate nicknames, but mine makes me sound sexy.” Skylar smirked.
“And as your boss that’s the opposite of what I’m going for… I told you that a million times.”
“Look. I’m not interested in standing in this line. Pay for these for me,” the man had the audacity to request.
Bishop didn’t know what to make of this arrogant prick. He stood there perplexed that they even made guys like this anymore—whiny, self-important and vain. As if he was a wannabe copy of one of the men in the GQ magazine he was holding.
“I think you can manage that yourself,” Edison said coolly, then turned back to Bishop. “So, anyway. I was mentioning my love for audiobooks too. I have so many I had to buy a separate bookcase just for those.”
Prick must not have noticed that Edison was interested in something else besides him, because the second he did, he tucked his phone into his designer jeans pocket and folded his arms over his chest to observe. Bishop didn’t like the irritated expression he bored into Edison’s head or the repulsed look he gave him.
“I really like this place. Barnes & Noble, I mean. Not Starbucks. It’s really amazing and I could probably sit in here all night. So do… do you come here often?” Edison seemed to grimace at his cliché line and the awkwardness of the delivery, then tried to recover by smiling. “Not like… that. I mean to read… like on a Friday night?”
“Smooth,” Edison’s friend crooned before releasing a hushed round of giggles.
Bishop felt his frown had dug firmly back into place. His forehead felt warm and his left temple pulsed as his impatience crested.
Edison seemed to bristle at his friend’s comment, but didn’t bother to acknowledge him. Instead he pointed at Bishop’s CDs. “For a while I was on a straight audio kick, but it wasn’t long before I went back to hardcopies and my Kindle.”
Bishop nodded, wishing he had more to say but he didn’t. He literally had nothing to add because he wasn’t entirely sure what Edison was talking about. He watched him nibble on his bottom lip, his skin pinking slightly around his jaw. “They’re nice to listen to when I cook.”
“Which is all the time,” the prick muttered behind his fist then looked off in another direction as if someone else had said it.
“Skylar. Can you…?” Edison huffed and turned towards the taller man. “Just give me your magazine, I’ll pay for it.”
Bishop could only imagine the glower he was wearing. He wanted to call this guy out so badly, but he knew better. It wasn’t his place. And this store certainly wasn’t the place. Bishop was far from his world. Though his and Mike’s trailer in Norfolk was only twenty minutes away from Virginia Beach by Interstate 264, it might as well have been twenty days away. Hampton Roads was a big, rich community, but unfortunately he lived in the poorest parts.
“Oh no, that’s quite all right, Edison. I think I’ll stay and watch this.” Skylar laughed again, and Bishop thought it sounded like a witch’s cackle.
“Watch what?” Edison did that nervous smile then started to fiddle with his tie when he glanced back at his friend who Bishop thought was the worst wingman ever.
What the hell kind of friend is this? But the better question was why did Edison put up with shit like that? Is he insecure? Trent would never have tried to humiliate him like this. It hadn’t taken Bishop long to read this guy, either. Skylar was a serious hater. He didn’t know what it was he was hating Edison for, but it was obviously something. Bishop may not have been able to read books, but he’d always been one of the best at reading people between their phony lines.
“Oh nothing,” the guy teased.
Edison rubbed at his throat. His top button was already undone and his tie was pulled down enough to make him appear comfortable, but Bishop could see how much he wasn’t. “Anyway, I just wanted to say that you guys are really doing amazing work on the building. The firm’s had citations for the lack of upkeep.”