Page 6
Story: Love to Hate You
“He doles outPlayboyand little plastic cups all day.”
“He’s making babies.”
“There are better ways to make babies.”
He heard a sharp intake of breath, followed by a weighted pause that seemed to grow and crackle.
“You can turn around now.”
He did and couldn’t hold back a smile. She was wearing a pair of distressed jeans and aTEAM CUPIDshirt that fit her to a tee, placing the T and D in a losing battle with her breasts. Her hair was twisted into a messy knot on her head, secured by a pencil. Then there were those glasses that made her look like a coed clashed into a wet dream of a librarian. Couldn’t forget her attitude—always dialed to “nut-crusher” around him.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, and some of her earlier flames had been snuffed out. She looked tired and worn down, and his chest gave an annoying pinch.
“I came to tell you to move your car.”
“It’s a free country. I can park where I please.”
“As long as it’s not blocking the entrance to the parking lot. The construction guys are done for the day and can’t pull out.”
“Sounds like a personal problem.”
“I’m paying them for every minute they sit there.”
“Maybe they shouldn’t park in my parking lot. There are signs specifically stating that the spaces are for customers only.”
“The signs are hand-painted on foamboard.”
She ignored this. “Why are you in my shop?”
“The door was unlocked, and I didn’t want anyone breaking in.”
“Said the B&E asshole. My door was definitely not unlocked. The sign was definitely flipped toCLOSED. I should call the cops and report you for breaking and entering.”
He watched her slide a covert glance at the door, and when she looked back his smile conveyed all she needed to know. He’d caught her.
“Made myself an espresso, hope you don’t mind.” He jerked his chin toward a cup of steaming coffee sitting on the end table next to him. He picked it up, burying his nose in the rising steam, and gave a sigh.
“I mind.” Summer marched over and snatched it out of his hands, then polished it off in a single gulp. Her eyes watered from sucking down such hot liquid, but she put on a brave face. “This has been fun. Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.”
“That’s your best comeback? A cliché? I’m disappointed, love.”
“I added the ass part, making it a twist on a well-loved cliché,crumpet.” She walked over and opened the door and stood like one of the yellow Sphinxes fromThe Neverending Story, ready to shoot lasers at him. This was not going as planned.
“I’m sorry that I invited myself in.” It wasn’t the first time he’d had to invite himself in. In fact, he’d had an entire life of being on the outside waiting for someone to open the door. After a while, he’d gotten tired of waiting and instead became assertive. Blunt, concise, to the point—that was how he now lived his life.
Summer blinked as if genuinely shocked at his apology. Almost as shocked as he was. Apology stemmed from regret, and Wes was too strategic about his every move to form regret. But if his project were to come in on time, he needed to call a truce. It was imperative that the Ridgefield BookLand location opened without a hitch.
Now who was using clichés?
“I’m not sorry to show you out,” she said.
He let out a long, tired breath. Anger was exhausting and he was angry. At his dad for dying and leaving him a business he’d never asked for nor wanted. At his half-brother, Randy, for being inept at running a billion-dollar enterprise. And at himself for agreeing to the terms of his father’s will. He should have walked the moment the lawyer had explained that Wes and Randy only had a year to grow the company, or it was forfeited to the board. Just like Wes had been forfeited the moment his father had found out that his mistress, Wes’s mother, was pregnant with his bastard son.
Wes felt as if his life had been full of being forfeited. Which was why he always led with his head instead of his heart. If he even had a heart anymore.
“I have a proposition that I think will solve both our problems.”
“If you say it’s in your pants, I don’t feel like being underwhelmed tonight. So that’s a hard pass.”
“He’s making babies.”
“There are better ways to make babies.”
He heard a sharp intake of breath, followed by a weighted pause that seemed to grow and crackle.
“You can turn around now.”
He did and couldn’t hold back a smile. She was wearing a pair of distressed jeans and aTEAM CUPIDshirt that fit her to a tee, placing the T and D in a losing battle with her breasts. Her hair was twisted into a messy knot on her head, secured by a pencil. Then there were those glasses that made her look like a coed clashed into a wet dream of a librarian. Couldn’t forget her attitude—always dialed to “nut-crusher” around him.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, and some of her earlier flames had been snuffed out. She looked tired and worn down, and his chest gave an annoying pinch.
“I came to tell you to move your car.”
“It’s a free country. I can park where I please.”
“As long as it’s not blocking the entrance to the parking lot. The construction guys are done for the day and can’t pull out.”
“Sounds like a personal problem.”
“I’m paying them for every minute they sit there.”
“Maybe they shouldn’t park in my parking lot. There are signs specifically stating that the spaces are for customers only.”
“The signs are hand-painted on foamboard.”
She ignored this. “Why are you in my shop?”
“The door was unlocked, and I didn’t want anyone breaking in.”
“Said the B&E asshole. My door was definitely not unlocked. The sign was definitely flipped toCLOSED. I should call the cops and report you for breaking and entering.”
He watched her slide a covert glance at the door, and when she looked back his smile conveyed all she needed to know. He’d caught her.
“Made myself an espresso, hope you don’t mind.” He jerked his chin toward a cup of steaming coffee sitting on the end table next to him. He picked it up, burying his nose in the rising steam, and gave a sigh.
“I mind.” Summer marched over and snatched it out of his hands, then polished it off in a single gulp. Her eyes watered from sucking down such hot liquid, but she put on a brave face. “This has been fun. Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.”
“That’s your best comeback? A cliché? I’m disappointed, love.”
“I added the ass part, making it a twist on a well-loved cliché,crumpet.” She walked over and opened the door and stood like one of the yellow Sphinxes fromThe Neverending Story, ready to shoot lasers at him. This was not going as planned.
“I’m sorry that I invited myself in.” It wasn’t the first time he’d had to invite himself in. In fact, he’d had an entire life of being on the outside waiting for someone to open the door. After a while, he’d gotten tired of waiting and instead became assertive. Blunt, concise, to the point—that was how he now lived his life.
Summer blinked as if genuinely shocked at his apology. Almost as shocked as he was. Apology stemmed from regret, and Wes was too strategic about his every move to form regret. But if his project were to come in on time, he needed to call a truce. It was imperative that the Ridgefield BookLand location opened without a hitch.
Now who was using clichés?
“I’m not sorry to show you out,” she said.
He let out a long, tired breath. Anger was exhausting and he was angry. At his dad for dying and leaving him a business he’d never asked for nor wanted. At his half-brother, Randy, for being inept at running a billion-dollar enterprise. And at himself for agreeing to the terms of his father’s will. He should have walked the moment the lawyer had explained that Wes and Randy only had a year to grow the company, or it was forfeited to the board. Just like Wes had been forfeited the moment his father had found out that his mistress, Wes’s mother, was pregnant with his bastard son.
Wes felt as if his life had been full of being forfeited. Which was why he always led with his head instead of his heart. If he even had a heart anymore.
“I have a proposition that I think will solve both our problems.”
“If you say it’s in your pants, I don’t feel like being underwhelmed tonight. So that’s a hard pass.”
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