“I can see her point of view. The cuts were probably not a smart idea.”
“If they were so worried, we wouldn’t have been let in,” I grumble.
Erica, Brew’s ol’ lady, and Nova greet us when we head inside.
Brew plants a kiss on his ol’ lady's head, giving Nova a chin lift. “Anythin’ eventful happen while we were gone?”
“Nope, but someone called Cameron Sinclair called and left a message for Haze,” Nova says, her eyes still on the computer screen.
I halt in my tracks.
Brew turns to look at me. “What the fuck?”
“Cameron Sinclair?” I balk. “Are you yankin’ my chain, cuz, because if you are, that ain’t funny.”
“I’m not!” she says, scowling as she waves a post-it note at me. “See for yourself.”
I glance at the paper like that is going to give me any insight into what the fuck Willow’s father is doing calling me. It’s clearly about today, and I’m not in any mood to put up with his bullshit.
“He seemed quite insistent,” Erica adds. “He rang a couple of times.”
“I’ll bet he did,” I mutter, striding to my office to think about what the fuck I’m going to say to this dingleberry that hasn’t already been said before. He doesn’t own Willow, and he certainly doesn’t own me. If I want to attend a goddamn fuckingpublicceremony, then I will. I don’t need his advice or permission.
Before I’m even in my seat, Brew’s standing in the doorway. “Little coincidental, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, just what I need, a showdown with the bastard who never shows up.”
Brew folds his arms over his chest. “Maybe he was there?”
“Wouldn’t be likeCameron Sinclairto be anywhere except up his own ass,” I mutter.
He gives me a chin lift. “You gonna call him back?”
“What’s it to you?”
“I just like seein’ you squirm.”
“Fuck off.”
Brew tuts. “Just because your ex blew you off, doesn’t mean you have to take it out on the rest of us.”
I glance up from the note, rolling my eyes. “Just because you’re all fuckin’ loved up and shit, doesn’t mean the rest of us have to suffer.”
“Bite me.”
“I’ll leave that to Erica.”
“Seriously, that asshole’s gonna ream your ass, bro.” Brew gives me a rare smile. “If you need backup, you know where to find me.” He takes off, laughing as I flip him the bird.
I don’t want to talk to Cameron Fucking Sinclair, not today, not ever. I crumple up the Post-it and toss it in the trash. The last thing I need today is another tirade. I already got today’s fair share from his daughter. The one thing Willow did inherit from her old man is his temper.
I start working through the job orders when my phone vibrates. Normally, I’m not attached to my phone, but I know it’s from Willow because of the chime.
I pick it up and glance at the message.
Wife
I’m sorry about earlier. I was rude. There’s stuff going on, Aust. It’s not you, ok?
