“You’re going to regret this,” I tisked because I couldn’t help myself.
“Probably,” he said absently and then he attacked. “What did Hunter want?”
“Um, nothing really. He hired me to do some…. work for him and I forgot to give him my number. It’s time sensitive so he needs to be able to get ahold of me,” I rambled the excuse I practiced in my head just in case one of my brothers asked me the same question. Ty clearly didn’t need that much information, but the excuse came out in one, long practiced speech like I was helpless to change it up or improvise. I would need to work on that.
“He’s like a son to me,” Ty announced ominously.
After a long pause I finally said, “Oh, ok.” I wasn’t sure what he was getting at, or if that was some kind of warning.
“And you’re like a daughter to me,” Ty continued.
“What? No I’m not!” I laughed, because seriously…. I mean, seriously…. If this was how Ty treated children then…. seriously, hopefully he was joking. And he should never have any real ones.
“Do you get what I’m saying, Ellie? If he’s like a son and you’re like a daughter? That would make anything between you incestual. Which is gross.” He actually shuddered. As if his messed up logic made any kind of sense.
I probably should go now. “Um, Ty, you have absolutely nothing to worry about between Fin and me. Promise. He’s no more interested in me than I am in being his next conquest. Also, incestual? Really?” Now I shuddered.
“Alright, Trouble, clock out and get going,” he shook his head at me and gave me a playful shrug.
I definitely had to get a handle on this whole Fin thing.
But even as I thought that I pulled out my phone while clocking out and checked his Facebook for updates on the potential gambling candidates I was following. Already the sleazy propositions were starting to come in for the evening and it wasn’t even six yet!
I finished with the computer, grabbed my purse from under the host stand and gave Britte a wave before heading out to my car. I had an hour before I was supposed to meet my parents and brothers for dinner and showing up early was not an option.
As I laid my forehead against the steering wheel to my Subaru Impreza I realized three things: I had an hour to kill, access to Fin’s surprisingly organized and accurate schedule and a desperate need to grapple back some control of my life in any way that I could.
Plus, he told me to multitask right?
Right.
So to Facebook I went. There was only one thing driving me crazier than this indentured servitude to Fin Hunter and it was these girls constantly messaging him! Plus I was going even more berserk, knowing that it was the girls and not the job that was making me so…. jealous.
No, not jealous.
Vindictive. Petty. And oh, so vengeful.
But not jealous. This had nothing to do with being jealous.
