“Not whatever. You’re fine as Mississippi moonshine, my dear! And look who your best good friend is?” He smiles. “Why wouldn’t she be?”
“She has no reason to be.” She looks like sex on a stick, and I look like a river rat.
“Sasha might be the office whore, but it’s no secret that she’s been after Nick for years.” He looks at me like I should know this. Deep down, I do.
“That still doesn’t have anything to do with me.” If a woman who looks like her can’t land a man like him, I sure as hell don’t stand a chance. “As far as she knows, I’m Nick’s niece.” I give him a strange look.
“She asked him to dance, he turned her down. But he cut in on Marcus for you, so to her, you are competition—family or not. It’s the way girls like her work. They can’t stand to be outdone or picked over.”
I don’t even try to hide my laugh. “He told me I should let Marcus take me out, believe me he’s not interested, fake niece or not.” I don’t think Ethan knows about the incident in the hot tub and how it was after that Nick told me to go out with Marcus.
“I know Nick and how he operates. He’s a control freak—everyone knows that—but he’s also been more lenient and put more effort into your wellbeing than he ever has anyone—myself included. You think he would let some random stranger off the street talk to him the way you do?”
I don’t answer so he continues,
“I get away with it because I’m family. Emma because she’s helped look after him since he was in diapers. Anyone else would be dead by now. Believe me, you don’t want to see him when he’s mad. He’s given you a choice to think for yourself about what and who you want. I see the way he looks at and responds to you. When you danced with Marcus, Nick never took his eyes off of you, and Sasha noticed. She’s used to having his attention. Now, tell me again how this has nothing to do with you.” He looks over at me.
“That doesn’t mean he wants me or would somehow magically pick me over her.” I cross my arms over my body, not wanting to have this conversation right now—or ever.
“You know Rivers, I could write a book on all the ways you’re wrong. Can’t you just see me, sitting in a cute little coffee shop with my laptop, listening to my characters tell me their stories.” He does a little dance in his seat.
“Pretty sure that’s called schizophrenia,” I mumble and look out the window at the passing coastline. Despite my sour mood, it really is a beautiful day.
“I like to think of it as a team meeting. Look, try opening those pretty brown eyes and observing things. I think you’d see how right I am.” He reaches over to pat my arm.
I’ve worked hard to avoid him as much as possible since he told me I could go out with his men. I enjoyed what we did in the hot tub, but I can’t afford to let him get in my head. I don’t want to be bogged down by a man yet again. I want to focus on my future. Especially since he basically told me he doesn’t want me.
If I am going to have sex with someone, I want it to be meaningless. Even if it was an option with Nick, I’m not sure I could do it without developing feelings. Not just because he was the first man to make me orgasm, but because I’m so easily smitten by him.
I can’t even breathe properly when he’s around. I’ve toyed with the idea of actually texting Marcus. I was warned he would use me for one thing, and I might be ok with just having a quick fling.
“I can’t see Nick being tied down with someone.”
“That’s true. Nick isn’t capable of that, but he does care about the wellbeing of the people closest to him.”
I can’t help the ridiculous sputtering laugh that escapes me. I don’t even know why we are having this conversation.
“Can we talk about something else, please?” Before I lose my mind.
“Sure. Better yet let’s have a sing along…” He turns the radio on and starts singing along like Terry Crews inWhite Chicks, causing me to instantly bust out laughing.
I like this not-so-serious version of Ethan so much better. “Leave it to you to pick ‘A Thousand Miles’ by Vanessa Carlton.” Yep, he’s my best good friend.
I have a lot to be thankful for when it comes to Ethan. He had nothing to gain from staying on the farm with me as long as he did. In fact, he was working double time.
During the day he helped me on the farm. At night he worked on his surveillance stuff or whatever Nick needed him to do. He had to be exhausted but never showed it. Every morning he greeted me with a smile.
I could live a thousand lifetimes and never meet another person who is as genuine as him. I do worry about him, though. When I try to ask him about his upbringing, he kinds of shuts down and states he doesn’t like to talk about it.
I don’t even recognize myself in the mirror with the thigh-high boots, black leather miniskirt that exposes my backside and thong, and a rhinestone bra. What would Mama think if she could see me now?
I’ve come so far from being the too-skinny, dirty, straggly hair, sunken-eyed girl from Whiskey Rivers, but is this any better? It’s not like I’m truly selling my body, it’s just an undercover job that requires me to act the part.
Tears prick my eyes—this is just another stepping stone I have to cross to get to a brighter future. “I promise I’ll makeyou proud of me one day,” I whisper to myself. I haven’t given much thought on what she would think about me killing my father.
He really is dead—blown to smithereens because of me. The thought is sobering. I’m not sorry, but I hope Mama forgives me. The news reports stated there wasn’t enough left of him to bury, so the county cremated what they found. I don’t know or care what they did with his ashes.
I wish they’d burn him again for good measure. The fires in hell are not hot enough for the punishment he deserves, but I hope he’s burning there anyway.
