Chapter 14 Tate
TATE
“You should have stenciled dicks on his coffees,” Ashley snarls, handing me my phone after reading the text messages from Sullivan.
“I don’t even know what ring he’s talking about. But he thinks I took it!”
I’m still seething about his accusation. I didn’t sleep a wink last night because I was wracking my brain to think what he might be talking about. Then I was angry, so damn angry, that his first thought was to accuse me.
“He watched me like a hawk when I was there. I was only alone when he answered the door. When does he think I had time to take his precious ring?” I stuff my phone into my apron pocket with a huff.
“Relax. It’s okay. The guy’s obviously an entitled jerk if he thinks he can sling accusations around like that without proof.”
“I knew he didn’t like me. He glares at me all the time.
I thought it was him being protective over Molly.
I found it really sweet how much he loves her.
” My mouth’s felt like it’s been stuffed with sawdust since I received those messages.
“Now I know it’s that he just didn’t trust me.
It’s like he was waiting for a moment for me to slip up so he could fire me.
And I just used my first paycheck from him to hire Dad a lawyer. ”
Ashley pulls me into a hug, and I fight back the sting of tears as I sink into it.
“And that lawyer is going to fight for your dad and get him the severance package he deserves. And you’re going to start sending your songs to record labels.
Then after we’ve all been out to celebrate your new fame, and all the cash you’ve made that will rival Sullivan-Asshole-Beaufort’s fortune, you and I are going to take a vacation together somewhere hot with cocktails and daily massages,” Ashley says, squeezing me.
“Sounds like heaven.” I sniff, forcing a smile. “But what if the lawyer needs more? If the case drags on, I won’t be able to pay him.”
Ashley holds me by my upper arms and looks at me with confidence.
“It won’t. It’s an open and shut case. They fired him on medical grounds, which he’d already disclosed to them.
The only reason he needed time off was because he was injured by them, on their premises, because of their negligence to provide a safe working environment. ”
“I hope you’re right.”
“When am I not?” She winks. “Listen, Sullivan Beaufort did you a favor, taking himself out of your life. Now let’s deal with the rest of the trash. Brandon won’t be calling you again. Give me your phone.”
I pull it from my pocket and hand it to her.
“Give me two minutes and I’ll have your new number all set up for you.”
“Thank you,” I breathe.
Ashley came with me last night to buy a new SIM card, but I never got around to setting it up.
Sullivan’s message came through when Dad and I were making dinner together.
My startled gasp at his threat of arresting me caused Dad to slip and slice his hand with the chopping knife.
We spent the following four hours in the ER waiting for him to get fixed up.
“All done.” Ashley hands me back my phone and I immediately text my father so he has my new number.
“Thanks.”
My smile is weak as I pocket my phone again, but Ashley’s attention snags on something outside and she hisses, “Motherfucker,” under her breath.
I place a hand on her arm as she steps forward like she’s about to rush into battle.
“Don’t,” I say weakly, following her gaze to the sleek black town car that’s pulled up outside.
Cliff opens the rear door, then there he is—Sullivan Beaufort, looking every inch the cold and callous billionaire that I now know him to be.
He’s in a charcoal-gray three-piece suit today, and he’s wearing his permanent scowl.
He fastens his jacket and nods at Cliff.
For a moment, he pauses. And a pathetic part of me waits to see if he’ll look this way.
If there’ll be a flash of regret on his face or guilt.
Something that indicates he knows I’m not a thief like he’s making out.
But then he turns, leaning into the backseat.
Seeing him sends bile rushing up to my throat. But it’s the sight of Molly that forces a quiet cross between a gasp and a sob from my lips.
She’s wearing a bunny onesie. It’s cream and fluffy.
A tiny part of me wonders if she chose it because of me.
Because when we were in the grocery store the other evening she pointed to a picture of a rabbit on a cereal box and said ‘Bumper’.
As if to answer my question, Molly reaches out with her tiny hand and points to the front window of Caffeine Couture.
But with a single swift shake of his head, Sullivan strides away with her in his arms without even a glance my way.
My throat thickens and I drop my gaze to the counter and grab a cloth, scrubbing the gleaming surface hard enough to make my fingers bleed.
I’m stupid for getting attached so quickly.
Looking after Molly was a job. I was just an employee.
But damn it, I’m going to miss that sweet little smile and those dark curls so much.
“He’s a grade A jerk,” Ashley spits.
“I can’t say I disagree,” I mumble as we get back to work.
We’re nearing the end of the morning rush when a head of ice-blonde hair with a voice as cold to match approaches the counter.
“Latte, double-shot, and..?” I ask, waiting for her to give me the second order for her own drink.
Cara’s glossy lips curl into a condescending smile.
“Oh, that’s such good service that you remember his order, like you actually know him.
But I’m not getting Mr. Beaufort’s coffee from here.
He told me this place was strictly off-limits from now on.
” She gazes around at the candy pink walls, scrunching her nose up in distaste.
“He said he can no longer stomach it. Seems it wasn’t to his liking, after all. ”
I fight to maintain a professional expression, aware of the line of people behind her. “Something for yourself, then?” I ask politely, swallowing past the lump in my throat.
Can no longer stomach it? What a rude ass. The coffee here is amazing, and everyone knows it. Ashley’s built up an incredible reputation. His problem isn’t with the coffee. It’s with me.
Cara purses her lips and flicks her eyes up to the menu board behind my head. “I guess I’ll take a Cappuccino.”
I ring it up for her, then Ashley steps up close behind me as Cara moves along to the waiting area.
“I’ll switch. You make the witch’s brew for her. And if you feel the need to spit in it, I won’t say a word.”
She arches a suggestive brow at me, and I smirk.
As tempting as the idea is, I’d never do a thing like that.
My father always says when people are jerks to you, they’re the problem, not you.
And that they’re probably unhappy about something in their life.
Using that logic, Sullivan must be downright miserable.
I make Cara’s drink and use a stencil to put Caffeine Couture’s logo on it. My lips quirk as I picture putting a dick on Sullivan’s one, like Ashley suggested, if she’d ordered one for him.
“How cute.” Cara sneers, as I slide the takeaway cup to her across the counter.
“Thanks.” I smile brightly and check no one is in earshot. “I don’t have any stuck-up Bitch stencils, so I went with this one.”
She stares at me in shock and her glossy lips drop open. “Excuse me?”
“Enjoy your drink.” I keep my smile painted on as she scoffs and looks me up and down like I’m something she stepped in.
It’s petty and unlike me. But after the shit I’ve been dealt over the past twelve hours, I had to say something.
And it feels good to wipe that smug look off her face.
It’s not like I’ll be seeing her now that I’m no longer watching Molly.
She and I both know she only came in here to gloat. She won’t be coming back.
Cara huffs, spinning on her designer heels and clicking over the floor toward the door. She glances back at me, pausing for effect, then holds her hand out and opens her manicured fingers in a flourish, letting the untouched drink drop into the trash can.