Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 73639 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73639 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
“That is not a topic you’ll ever bring up with me again.”
I shivered. The menace in his voice was powerful.
“It’s a Ferrari.”
“That wouldn’t be the one that belongs to your brother, would it?”
I cringed. “Yes.”
“Then why isn’t he calling me?”
“He’s headed out of town.”
“Right.”
It was clear he didn’t believe me. “I’m at the airport right now. I just dropped him off for his flight.”
“And if I need to speak with him—”
Did he have to be such an asshole? “He’s not to be disturbed.”
“Why don’t you tell me exactly what happened?”
“There’s no need for that. The car is scratched, and I need the scratches gone.”
“And you need me to be discreet about it?”
I did not like his mocking tone. “That’s right.”
“In other words, you need me not to rat you out to Remington for fucking up his car.”
“I didn’t—”
“I don’t want excuses. I want honesty.”
I had to force myself not to tell him off. “I left Remington’s car in a parking lot and someone scratched it all to hell. I need it fixed tomorrow, and you’re not to mention it to anyone.”
“That’s going to cost you.”
“Name your price.” He was silent for so long, I nearly hyperventilated.
“Not now. This is something we need to discuss face-to-face.”
“I don’t have time for—”
“Neither do I. I have a full schedule tomorrow, so I guess you should find someone else to—”
“No. Wait.” Remington couldn’t return from his trip to a fucked-up car. “When do you want to meet?”
“Tonight’s as good as any other time. Bring the car.”
“You’re working on a Saturday night?”
“Sometimes specialty jobs come in, and I do them whenever I get the chance. Also, I live over the shop.”
I considered why he wanted to see me personally, especially at this time of night. He wasn’t going to ask me for money. He probably wanted a favor from my family. I was too tired for more negotiating, but I didn’t have much choice. Unfortunately, he knew that. It was normally about a half-hour drive to his shop, but with Mardi Gras traffic, there was no telling how long it would take. “I’ll be there in about an hour.”
“I’ll be here. I’d never miss a chance to get my hands on your… car.”
He ended the call, and I stared at my phone. Was he fucking flirting with me?
No way. He was just messing with me, and I had no choice but to take the bait.