Once she left the table, Rick dropped a hand on my shoulder in farewell, grinding my muscles into each other, before leaving me with one final pat.
Yeah, I was definitely making progress. I turned my head to follow their path off the patio, when my phone chimed. The sound I had assigned to Drew, to be precise.
A text message scrolled across the screen.
I don’t take freebies. Money to cover the job and breakfast has been transferred. Try the cheese Danish. It’s to die for. ;)
The urge to chase after her nearly had my feet moving, but I squashed it. Drew knew I found her attractive, and we were in this playful game of give and take. If I followed after her, she’d know exactly how much power she had over me, and that would end our fun all too soon.
One cheese Danish lay on top of the plate of pastries, the sugar crystals glimmering under the early sun. I almost reached for it, but changed my mind at the last second. Her words were a little too precise and although I didn’t think she’d actually try to kill me, I never could be sure with that vixen.
“What put that raving lunatic smile on your face?” The chair across from me scraped over the tile.
The smile I hadn’t even realized I was sporting died as I stared at the man now sitting where Drew had sat. “None of your fucking business.”
“Sure,” he sneered. “Tell me that the next time I have to bail you out of a situation.”
That burned. But it had been years since I’d actually needed his help for anything. I was older, wiser, and much more cautious since I’d tangled myself up into this world.
“You don’t have to share the words, I know it was the couple just sitting with you. Specifically, the woman, yes?” His tone mocked me, completely eradicating the happy buzz I’d acquired from spending time with the Hardy’s. I mentally snickered at her choice of names for the day.
“You just happened to be walking by this restaurant at the same time that I was having lunch with friends?” I returned his scathing tone.
“Actually no,” he said as he picked up my fucking cheese Danish, taking a healthy bite out of the corner. “I need a favor.”
Yeah, and I hoped he fucking choked on the pastry.
Leaning back in the chair, I slid my sunglasses back on. I’d ditched them while working, and because I enjoyed making eye contact with Drew—Mrs. Hardy would have me mentally snorting for a while. Was she gonna be Mrs. Swift next? As for eye contact with this jackass? I’d pass.
The waiter brought me another coffee and when he would have turned to my uncle, I said, “He’s not staying and doesn’t need anything.”
“Fletcher,” Uncle Hamilton sounded almost reproving. “You were raised with far better manners.”
“Absolutely, and taught who deserved shows of respect and who didn’t.” Lifting the coffee cup while extending my middle finger was probably as classless as I could get, but I didn’t care. My mother would be horrified, I could almost see her disapproving look and taste her perfume in the air—something like sanguine disappointment with notes of floral and amber.
Instead of being put off at all, Hamilton chuckled. I could get away with lobbing insults at him. He really didn’t care. My father would probably be amused, unless I went for the bloodier verbal jabs, but Uncle Harper was far more likely to backhand me right out of my seat.
Fuck my family. The only ones I liked didn’t have enough power to take out the ones we didn’t. Not yet anyway. “What do you want?” Because no way he sought me out for some kind of reunion. The fact he’d tracked me at all told me I needed to tighten security and move all of my operations.
The condo might already be burned. Good thing I always had a backup. Destroying all the equipment would suck but then again, not keeping all my eggs in one basket was a lesson I learned a long time ago. The aggravation currently souring my gut had more to do with the risk his approach might do to my newfound relationship with Drew.
She was still testing the waters with me. Hamilton could fuck that up, and that annoyed me even more than the fact he was eating my fucking Danish.
“You haven’t been returning phone calls,” Hamilton said.
“Most people would get the hint.”
“But we’re family.”
“That doesn’t win you any points. Or mean I owe you any favors.”
“Except, I’m the one person who never looked at you unkindly after the incident.”
What. An. Asshole.
“But bringing up past trauma to leverage is a definite show of loyalty and dedication.” Never show anyone in my family weakness. Once they had the scent, they would tear that person apart until nothing was left.
Survival of the fittest after all.