Chapter 5
I knew this was a bad idea as soon as the guys offered me a ride. Nervously, I shuffle my feet around at the front door. Looking down at the watch on my wrist, my annoyance grows exponentially. My interview is supposed to start in five minutes, and we haven’t left yet.
I’m just about to start walking when I finally hear the guys coming down the stairs. Neither one of them is in a hurry, which shouldn’t come as a surprise to me. I guess I thought they wanted to take me to this interview to make sure I do not leech off of them.
“You do know that if I don’t get a job, I can’t get my own place, right?”
“Shut up and get in the truck,” Nix snaps.
I suppress an eye roll and follow them outside to a matte black F-150 parked in front of the garage.
The sleek truck probably cost more than my entire college tuition would.
Nix uses the key fob to unlock his truck before he gets into the driver’s seat.
Colt walks around to the passenger side, and I get into the back.
The engine roars to life just as I buckle up. It’s good that I didn’t waste any time because Nix pulls out of the driveway like a madman, and if I wasn’t buckled up, I’d be slung through the cab like a rag doll.
“Did you fuck that chick from the party last weekend?” Nix asks his brother like I’m not even in the truck.
“The blonde? Yeah, once, her pussy was weird.”
“I know. That’s why I fucked her ass,” Nix quips, and they both break out in laughter. “Her mouth wasn’t bad either, but she was a sloppy mouth fuck, gagging like she was about to puke all over me.”
Looking out the tinted window, I try my best to ignore them, which makes Colt only raise his voice.
“Ugh, I did have a chick puke on me once. Maybe I should have stopped fucking her face when she frantically tapped on my leg.”
Now I’m gagging myself just thinking about this. “You can just drop me off here. I’ll walk the rest.” I’m already late anyway.
“What’s up, love bug? Does our sex talk make you uncomfortable?”
“You mean your assault talk? Yeah, I could go without hearing it.”
“Assault?” Nix chuckles. “Girls like getting their faces fucked. They basically beg us to do it. I know this must be unbelievable for a virgin like you.”
“At least my pussy doesn’t feel weird because I let every guy I meet fuck it.”
Colt tsks. “That’s no way to talk about your friend. What would Piper think if she heard you say that about her?”
Just mentioning Piper’s name feels like a sucker punch to the gut.
She used to be my best friend. I trusted her with everything, and she turned her back on me like I was nothing.
She’s the only one who really hurt me deeply.
But the worst part of all is that even now, hearing that the guys hurt her in any way makes me mad.
Did she really want it? Or did they take advantage of her?
Even after everything she did to me, a part of me still wants to protect her.
“She’s not my friend,” I murmur, more to myself. I have to remind myself of that for my own sanity.
“Sorry, we forgot. You don’t have any friends,” Colt says over his shoulder.
“I’d rather have no friends at all than fake friends.”
“Whatever you have to tell yourself.” Nix chuckles. “Did you bring a change of clothes, or is that really what you’re wearing to your interview?”
Scrunching my nose, I look down at my skinny jeans and tank top. It’s nothing fancy, but there is also nothing wrong with it. It’s clean without holes in it. I could use some new sneakers, but I wasn’t gonna spend my last money on shoes.
“I’m interviewing at a pizza parlor, not a law firm.”
Finally, we pull up to a strip mall, and the sign above the shop is like a welcoming beacon.
“Good luck,” Nix mutters, snickering, and his brother joins him while I scramble out of the truck. The sooner I’m away from them, the better.
I do wish Nix hadn’t said anything about my clothes.
Now I feel self-conscious about my outfit.
I have to remind myself that his entire life revolves around making me uncomfortable and questioning myself.
I can’t take him seriously. It’s with that in mind that I’m able to keep my chin up as I open the glass door, setting off a bell that jingles merrily overhead.
The clock above the cash register tells me I’m five minutes late. Dammit. I knew they’d find some way to mess this up. I could always make an excuse, but no matter what the reason, this looks unprofessional. I’m starting out on the wrong foot.
If I don’t get this job, I’m sure there will be other opportunities, but the more time I spend with my soon-to-be stepbrothers, the easier it is to remember why I’m in such a hurry in the first place.
When the girl behind the counter clears her throat, I realize I’ve been standing here without having said a word. “Hi,” I offer. “My name is Leni Peters, and I had a four o’clock appointment to speak with the owner about a job.”
She can’t be any older than me, so why does it sting so badly when she shoots a pointed look up at the clock?
It reminds me of when I was training, and my coach would make a face like that and convey a hundred kinds of disappointment without saying a word.
“Yeah, let me tell him you’re here,” she mutters before heading to the back while I wish I could dig a hole and bury myself in it. Not the best way to start this out.
It’s not thirty seconds before she comes back.
“You can sit down. He’ll call for you when he’s ready.
” The phone rings, and she answers right away, leaving me with nothing to do but sit in one of the molded plastic chairs lined up in front of the window.
A few tables are in use at the moment, but otherwise, the shop is fairly empty.
I guess it’s a little early for the dinner rush.
Five minutes pass. Ten minutes, twenty. Now the tables are empty, and it’s just me and the girl behind the counter.
Whenever I try to catch her eye, she suddenly remembers something she’s got to do.
I’m pretty sure she wipes down the tables three different times before finally giving up and scrolling through her phone without bothering to acknowledge me.
By four thirty, things are starting to pick up, with the phone ringing fairly constantly and a second girl coming in for her shift.
She throws a curious sort of look my way before heading behind the counter, where she and the girl, who seems to hate me, complain about how short-staffed they are.
Meanwhile, here I sit, biting my tongue rather than reminding them that I’m sitting here, waiting to be interviewed.
I could possibly help out with their problem.
By the time five o’clock hits, I’m ready to call it quits.
It’s obvious this man has no intention of speaking to me, and as much as I want to barge into his office and ream him out for bringing me down here, I don’t have it in me.
And who knows? People might talk. My name used to be fairly well-known.
I might end up screwing myself out of the opportunity to find a job if word spreads that I caused a scene.
And oh, the way my mother would take it out on me.
I’m about to stand and approach the counter when the door to the office flies open. “Laney?”
“It’s Leni,” I offer with a faint smile. He only looks me up and down before turning away and heading into his office. Does that mean I’m supposed to follow him? After a few seconds of indecision, I force my feet to move, taking me in the direction of the open door.
He sits behind a tiny desk stacked high with papers and crumpled napkins. “So you’re looking for a job here?”
“Yes.” Is that a trick question?
“I’m looking back over your application here.” He leans in close to his laptop screen, squinting. “You don’t really have any experience.”
“That’s true. I was training for the Olympics, but an injury put a stop to that, so I didn’t have the opportunity to get an after-school job like a lot of people do.”
“So you don’t know anything about point-of-sale systems or food preparation.”
The way he looks at me makes my skin crawl, and now I wish I had worn something more than a tank top.
His gaze hovers around my chest and doesn’t move until I fold my arms. “No, but everybody has to start somewhere, right? I’m a fast learner.
And I just spent the past hour observing the girls out there.
I can take orders, wipe down tables, and refill drinks. I’m willing to put in the work.”
When all he does is stroke his chin, I add, “I really need this job. I’ll do whatever it takes.”
That was a mistake. I see it immediately in the way his eyes light up. “Whatever it takes, huh? You better be careful. Some managers would take that the wrong way and get the wrong idea.”
Tears of rage threaten to fill my eyes, but I blink them back quickly. When I’m in a situation where I can’t scream, my body always wants to revert to crying. “Then I guess those aren’t the kind of managers I’d want to work for,” I grit out.
He pushes back from the desk, shaking his head as he makes a big deal of shuffling papers around. “I’m sorry, but you are not a good candidate. Thanks for coming in.”
That’s all he wanted? To get a look at me and see if I’d be willing to put up with his perverted ass? I practically launch myself out of the chair and waste no time bursting out onto the sidewalk, running along the businesses up and down the strip. I need a shower. Two showers. Scalding hot.
Terrific. Now what do I do? I guess I’ll go home, though the prospect fills me with about as much happiness as does the idea of working for a pig like the man I just interviewed with.
There’s a bus stop up on the corner, a metal and glass shelter with benches.
I’d rather sit on a bench and wait for the next bus than reach out and ask for a ride.
I shudder to think of the hoops I’ll have to jump through for that.
Besides, it’s been way more than an hour since Colt and Nix dropped me off.
I’m sure they’re done working out by now and are probably home.
Not that I particularly care about inconveniencing them, but I’m sure they will care very much and will find a way to take it out on me.
With that in mind, I duck beneath the shelter and take a seat before pulling out my phone to check the bus schedule. The one that runs closest to the house will still have me walking a few blocks, but that’s nothing.
“Dammit,” I whisper, checking the schedule again to make sure I’m not looking at the weekend version rather than the weekday. No, I’m in the right spot, and according to this, the last bus ran at five o’clock. If the jerk hadn’t kept me waiting all that time, this wouldn’t be a problem.
I would still rather eat my own tongue than ask for help from either of the Alistair brothers. Well, at least I know my sneakers are sturdy enough to get me home. I get up with a sigh and begin walking.
I should have known the job was too good to be true. The way he reached out to me so quickly, even though I don’t have any qualifications. People are always looking for a way to take advantage, it seems. I hate that I even entertain such jaded thoughts, but facts are facts.
I’m about twenty minutes into my walk when the sudden blaring of a horn behind me makes me jump. I look to my left in time to find a now familiar truck speeding by, with Colt and Nix laughing as they pass. I don’t know if I want them to stop or if I’d rather they keep going.
As it turns out, it doesn’t matter what I want because Nix doesn’t so much as ease up on the gas pedal, rocketing them off fast enough that the taillights are nothing but pinpoints in almost no time at all.
I wonder if I could get lucky enough for them to crash that stupid truck.