I snort just as the elevator doors open.
And I’m having too much fun listening to George lament over Shawn to realize the nightmare I’m stepping into.
A few paces off the elevator, I stumble to a stop when a loud throat-clearing catches my attention, and I face the one man I’d rather avoid for the rest of my life.
My father.
Chapter
20
Karl Newton isn’ta small man—he’s the source of my brother’s six-foot stature—and he’s kept in shape despite having what I’d guess is a plush office and spending most of his time in meetings. His hair is a thick mixture of white and red, and his dark eyes have a shrewd cunning lingering in their depths.
Overall, he’s aging as well as one of those expensive liquors that businessmen keep in their corner offices.
No outward sign that he’s a vindictive asshole.
“You two look friendly,” is Karl’s version of a greeting, his stare flicking between George and me.
“We’re not.” George shifts away from me, his voice—hell, his whole body—going cold. “Just ran into each other at Shawn’s.”
I blink, pulling on every ounce of my customer service skills to keep a bland, unaffected expression on my face.
Even as a sharp jab slips under my rib cage.
It’s only at that slice of pain that I realize how much I’d softened toward George. How I’d managed to tuck away my animosity andignore my crush, to let myself think that maybe we were settling into friendship. That maybe he’d started to realize that however flawed I am, I’m not whatever monster my father has made me out to be.
I’m a fool. Naive. How could I have thought George changed his mind about me?
One comment from my father, and I’m a pariah yet again.
Well, fuck you, too, George Bunsen.
Karl gives a single nod. Approval that his BnB minion has shunned me like he was supposed to.
“Yeah, don’t worry,” I drawl. “We’re not friendly. Can’t stand him, really. Think it’s something to do with that BBN stench.” I plaster on a sickly sweet smile. “You know, smells like misogyny and expensive leather upholstery that’s seen too many bodily fluids.”
Karl’s mouth twists, his whole face darkening.
There are few people in the world who dig past my people-pleaser surface to spy the cynical bitchiness I hold close to my heart. Shawn knows, but only about the loving bitch who bickers with him about books. My mom knows, from the rare arguments we get into, but not so often anymore. She might have forgotten the darkest parts of me by now. Darla has met and adores my bitch, because she wears her fury on the surface at all times.
But everyone else? I smile, I help, I keep the peace. They assume I’m sweet and nice and never guess how many cynical thoughts play through my mind. I like that people think I’m a kind person. Iwantto be a kind person, so I work hard to live that way.
Be kind to friends.
Be kind to family.
Be kind to customers.
Be kind to strangers.
But this man does not bring out that urge in me. This is one person I have no interest in pleasing. He contributes nothing to my lifeother than discomfort and hurt. There is no point in trying to make him happy because the only way I can do that is by ceasing to exist.
In a way, Karl Newton’s unalterable dislike for me is freeing.
I don’t have to try. I could say absolutely anything to this man, and he’ll hate me as much as he did the moment before.
“I see you’re bothering Shawn again,” Karl sneers.
