Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 132892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
“I hear nothing ages a woman like being evil.” Finishing the salt, I brushed off my hands and nodded toward the main room. “You ready to eat?”
Carrie held up the bag holding our customary sandwiches.
“Always. You know how much I love food.”
We sat down at one of the tables, surrounded by my mother’s things. Sooner or later I’d have to pack everything up, figure out what to do with it. Maybe I could auction it off and use the money to help pay for my new kitchen.
Assuming I wanted a new kitchen. Was I really planning to stay in Hallies Falls? Some days more than others, but Dad definitely didn’t want to leave. Ugh.
“So you didn’t answer my question,” Carrie said, popping the top open on a Diet Coke. “Did you kick his ass out the door? The correct answer here is ‘yes,’ just in case you had any questions. I don’t care how good he is in the sack, the man is scum.”
“No, Brandon’s scum,” I said, surprising myself. “I’m not saying Gage is a Boy Scout, but Brandon’s a thousand times worse.”
Carrie stared at me, and for once she didn’t have anything to say.
Of course, being Carrie, she recovered fast.
“I don’t disagree . . .” she said. “Obviously Brandon is a piece of shit, no question. But that doesn’t mean Gage is a good idea. You can’t trust the guy, Tinker. He lied to you. He lied to everyone. Getting involved with him is a really bad idea.”
I opened my mouth to argue, then closed it because she was right. Getting involved with Gage was a really bad idea, and I still wanted to do it. Desperately. My phone rang, “The Imperial March” from Star Wars blaring out. What the hell? Glancing down, I saw Brandon’s name on the caller ID.
“Did you change Brandon’s ringtone to Darth Vader?” I asked Carrie, who was suddenly very interested in rearranging the lettuce on her sandwich.
“Don’t answer it,” she said, dodging the question. “If he wants to talk to you, he can have his lawyer call your lawyer. That’s how civilized people handle shit like this.”
I hit the ignore button and leaned back in my chair, staring her down.
“You do realize you’re not my mother, right?” I asked. “You aren’t actually in charge of my life.”
She shrugged, winking at me. My phone chimed as Brandon left a voice mail, then a text came through.
BRANDON: Call me.
Ha. Unlikely.
“I’m going out with Gage tonight,” I continued, ignoring the text. “And don’t worry—I’m not an idiot. I know he’s a liar, but so what? I had fun last night and I want to have some more fun. I don’t have to be friends with him to get laid.”
“Fuckbuddies don’t go on dates,” she countered. “If you want a booty call, great. But why complicate it with dinner?”
My phone rang again, the ominous music ringing out through the tea shop again.
“I’m going to answer,” I said, frowning. “Maybe it’s an emergency. Asshole. I hate him, but we do still own a house together.”
Reaching for the phone, I swiped my finger across the screen.
“Yes?”
“Tinker, it’s good to hear your voice,” Brandon said, using what I liked to think of as his “indulgent father” voice. What a fucking tool. “I need to talk to you about your tenant.”
Seriously?
“Which tenant would that be?” I asked, although I had a pretty good idea already.
“The biker,” he said. “A large group of them got arrested in Ellensburg this weekend. I did some research and learned more about this guy. He was lying about his name, and he’s a member of a gang called the Reapers.”
Holy crap. Was Brandon spying on me?
“This isn’t news to me. What’s your point?”
“Tinker, you don’t need to take that tone with me. In fact—”
“Say what you have to say or shut up,” I said flatly. Carrie gave me a thumbs-up across the table. Brandon didn’t respond for a second, and I knew I’d caught him off guard.
“You’ve changed, Tinker.”
“I’m not interested in your opinion. Hanging up now.”
“He’s a criminal,” Brandon said quickly. “They all are. You don’t understand what these men really are capable of. I’ll need to handle the eviction for you. They’re very savvy—smarter than you’d think. He’ll use the law against you if he can.”
“Not interested. Have your lawyer call mine about the divorce.”
Turning the phone off, I set it down to find Carrie watching me, respect written all over her face.
“I’ve never heard you talk to him like that,” she said, and I shrugged.
“You don’t know everything about me,” I countered.
“Yes, I do.”
“Last time we were in Seattle, I threatened Brandon with a knife and told him to get the fuck out of my kitchen.”
Carrie sat back in her chair so hard it nearly tipped over. Then a slow smile crossed her face. “Okay, you’re right. Obviously, I don’t know everything.”