Chapter 6
Angela
After dropping the mic on my conversation with Bear…Bear? Is that his real name? It has to be a nickname. Maybe one he earned by being surly and difficult.
Anyway, after my mic drop, I open my laptop to make plans with Micah and Nathan. With Bear…but for real…Bear? I can’t even think it without giggling…
Anyway, with him swinging by at six, I tell my cousins to be at The Pact by six thirty. Those two are chronically late, which means there’s no chance the asshole will still be around by the time they show.
I grab my laptop to read and reread my notes for tomorrow’s meeting with Mr. Cooper. Micah would say I’m overprepared, but after the last time, I’d say there’s no such thing. I check projections against actuals, cringing as I read through our worst-case scenario.
I won’t let that happen.
Step one, assume everything that comes out of Garrett Cooper’s mouth is a lie.
Step two, remember he is not my friend, no matter what he says.
Step three, trust nothing, verify everything.
Repeating those thoughts like a mantra, I grab the kitten food and step onto the porch.
“Fluff! Orange! It’s time for dinner!” I rattle the bag.
A little brown and white face pokes out from under the steps, eyeing me warily.
“That’s right. I’m so totally not scary,” I coo as I scoop food into his bowl.
“You can just come right on up here with me because a birdie told me you’re gonna love some head rubs. ”
The little guy doesn’t seem convinced, so I put the food back in the house, grab my purse, and climb into my car.
As soon as I shut the door, the kittens scamper onto the porch and dig in.
The sound of the engine startles them and Orange dashes for the steps, thinks better of it, then slinks back to his food.
Laughing, I turn on some tunes for the drive, and arrive with ten minutes to spare.
Perfect. I can use the time to prep my energy for Bear’s arrival.
If he’s still grumpy, maybe I can turn his day around…
…just in time to find out his fiancée is cheating.
Oof.
I pick a seat with a view of the door, place his phone on the table, then settle in and wait.
And wait.
And wait.
I drum my fingers. Pick up the phone, turn it over in my hands, then put it right back where it was.
I had to power it off before I left the house.
Apparently, I have trouble respecting other people’s privacy, something I learned about myself as the guy received a tsunami of texts.
Every time his phone buzzed, my urge to snoop increased.
Was his fiancée apologizing?
Was his family eviscerating her for being awful?
I wanted to know. I needed to know.
But snooping is wrong, so I turned off the phone before the temptation overcame me, which means I can’t check the time, but six o’clock has surely come and gone. I order a gin and tonic and stare at the door, drumming my fingers on the table.
Is it possible for steam to actually come out of my ears?
First, this guy’s rude. Then he’s late. Which just doubles down on the rudeness.
I swirl my finger around the rim of my glass and order myself to stop stressing.
When that doesn’t work, I take a long drink.
Then another. Then one more for good measure.
Before I know it, the glass is empty. I flag down my waitress and order a refill.
The front door swings open and in steps Micah and Nathan, looking imposing as they scan the place.
They’re both tall and broad shouldered like Nick, though Micah’s the beefiest of the bunch.
I’ve always felt ridiculous standing with them, seeing as my eyes barely make it past their pecs.
The imposing factor dissipates when they see me and smile, then head my way as a waitress drops off my second drink.
Micah bends at the waist to give me a hug, before dropping into the chair next to me, his grin warm and disarming. “You do the thing?” He wiggles his fingers. “With the phones?”
“That is one of the funniest stories I’ve ever heard.” Nathan pulls out a chair and lowers himself into it. “I’ll be watching my phone like a hawk the next time I need a replacement.”
“It’d be hilarious,” I retort, glaring at the door. “If I had mine back yet.” I take a sullen sip of G&T and slump deeper into my seat.
Micah frowns. “The guy hasn’t shown?”
“It’s quarter ‘till seven.” Nathan beckons the waitress over.
“I’d congratulate you two on only being a little late, but I’m too grumpy.” I take a long drink and ask for another after the guys order beers. Seems like it’s going to be that kind of night. “I really want my phone back.”
“Plus, you’ve been sitting here for forty-five minutes, drinking alone.” Nathan leans back, crossing his ankle over his knee. “That’s enough to make anyone testy.”
Nathan holds up a finger with a wry smile. “Fifty-five. She’s ten minutes early to everything.”
I laugh despite my growing agitation. “You know me so well.”
“What are you gonna do if he never shows?” Nathan asks as the waitress returns with our order.
“Do you think that’s even a thing?” I swipe my drink off the table and gulp down a large swallow. “Would someone really just abandon his phone with a stranger and disappear?” I ask, gesturing dramatically, almost knocking over Micah’s beer.
“Whoa.” He catches it before it spills. “Easy there. How many of these did you have?”
“I dunno.” I lean forward to slurp from my glass. “Seems like one too many.”
“I’d say more like two too many.” Nathan’s hearty chuckle deepens my frown.
“If he doesn’t show, I’ll go back to the store. Maybe get a new number or something.” I shake my head and the world gets swimmy. “I just hate it. This guy has access to my whole life. If he doesn’t make an appearance…”
The door pushes open and in steps none other than Mr. Sexy Rude and Late, looking just as imposing as my cousins. Even more so because he doesn’t smile when he sees me. Oh no. His perma-frown morphs into a full-on scowl and his jaw tightens when he strolls my way.
“D’you have any idea how late you are?” I ask, perhaps a little too loudly as he stops at the table.
“Late?” A frown tugs at unfortunately sexy lips. “I’m ten minutes early.”
“No. I was ten minutes early.” I drag my gaze to a pair of extraordinarily blue eyes. “You are very, very late.”
He checks his watch. “Six-fifty. Ten minutes early.”
“We agreed on six.” I cross my arms over my chest.
“I said seven.” His brows lift.
“That’s right. You said seven.” I smile smugly. “I said six.”
“And I didn’t see that text until I was on my way. I sent a message letting you know that wouldn’t work for me.” Bear gestures at the powered down phone like I’m the asshole in this situation.
Uh-unh. No way.
“You let me sit here alone for fifty-five minutes with nothing but my good friends, gin and tonic, for company and all you have for me is ‘I didn’t see the text?’ I see you.
” I point two fingers in front of my eyes then turn them his way.
“I see what kind of guy you are. The packaging might be gorgeous, but underneath? It’s all shady and slippery.
You’re only out for yourself and that’s it.
I didn’t think people like you existed in the real world but here you are. ”
A single eyebrow raises. “Here I am.”
Bear’s scowly growly face only pisses me off more.
My frustration with him joins forces with my frustration over the situation with The Hut and my mouth runs away with the conversation the way it likes to when I’m angry.
“That’s right. Here you are. In your stupid shirt and stupid pants ordering me around without so much as asking if I was available at seven.
Which I wasn’t, by the way. I obviously had plans.
” I gesture at my cousins. “I’ve signed shitty contracts with people like you and I have a stupid meeting with a guy like you tomorrow and let me tell you, I am not looking forward to it because I’m scared to death I won’t be able to ride the rocket to success. ”
Nathan and Bear’s jaws drop while Micah chokes on his beer.
Shit. Did I really just say that out loud?
I hurry on before anyone can speak. “Which I understand has nothing to do with you, but I’ve had it up to here with people taking advantage of each other.” I reach for my drink, but Nathan slides it out of reach while Micah sits back in his chair and grins at the unfolding scene.
Bear sets his jaw, glowering down at me. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to say to that.”
“She’s had a lot to drink.” Micah flares his hands. “She’s not usually like this.”
“Don’t apologize for me,” I hiss.
“Someone needs to,” he retorts.
I turn my attention to the man with my phone. His blue eyes flash and his jaw clenches. It reminds me of a storm coming in off the ocean. It’s raw. Charged. Energy shivers through me, followed by a growl of frustration.
“Apparently my companions think I’m being rude.
Let’s start again. Perhaps an introduction?
” I risk a glance at Nathan. He looks shell shocked.
“I’m Angela Hutton but my family calls me Angel, a nickname you’re absolutely not allowed to use, especially because my college professor told me it sounds like a stripper name.
” I extend my hand while Micah guffaws, Nathan’s brows disappear into his hair, and an emotionally distant robot named Bear blinks in shock.
“Hutton?” Bear’s entire demeanor changes. “You’re Angela Hutton?”
“That’s right. You got a problem with that?”
“I have a problem with everything that’s happened since I landed in Florida. Let’s just get this over with,” Bear says to me, before turning to the guys. “Order her some water and a coffee and make sure she doesn’t get behind the wheel like that.”
He places my phone on the table and slides it towards me like we’re exchanging hostages. I do the same and give him my sweetest smile. “It’s a pleasure doing business with you,” I say, as he rescues his device and slips it into his pocket.
“It’s been something,” he mutters before turning on his heel and walking away. The guys stare after him until the door closes on his grumpy ass, then turn to me.
“Sweet Jesus, Angel,” Nathan says with a laugh. “You sure told him.”
“I did, didn’t I.” I grin and make grabby hands for my drink.
Micah slides it further out of reach. “That’s a conversation he’ll remember for the rest of his life. I have no doubt about it.”
Nathan shakes his head with a wry laugh. “I’m not sure we can say the same for her.”