Chapter 21
Briggs
“I’m going to ask her to hang out,” Parker says. “See what happens.”
“For the last time, she is not going out with you,” I say, hearing the anger in my voice.
“She will if I tell her I want to talk about the accident. Girls love that shit. They love hearing that a guy wants to talk. It makes us sound all sensitive and shit.”
“Ella’s smarter than that. She’ll see right through your bullshit.”
“Why are you trying to talk me out of this? Why do you care?”
“I’m saving you from embarrassing yourself. There’s no way Ella would ever go out with you, not after all we’ve done to her.”
“Guess we’ll find out.”
My phone beeps, and I see another call coming in. “Finn’s calling me. Hold on.” I switch over to the call. “What’s going on?”
“Insurance called. They want to know what happened to the Range Rover and why I didn’t fill out a report.”
“What’d you tell them?”
“My dad told them the story I gave him about hitting the concrete divider in the parking garage, but they didn’t buy it. They said it didn’t fit with the damages they saw in the claim.”
“Why did your dad file a claim? It couldn’t have cost that much to fix. He could’ve just paid for it.”
“Yeah, well, he didn’t and now I’ve got the insurance guy wanting answers. He’s calling on Monday to ask me questions and I don’t know what to say.”
I pause a moment to think. “Can you come over tonight?”
“For what?”
“We need to talk about this. We all have to be on the same page in case someone else asks what happened. Can you be here or not?”
“I guess. What about Parker and Ella?”
“I’ll call them. Be here at seven and don’t be late.” I sound just like my father, giving people orders like he does to me. I need to stop doing that, but I have to with Finn, or he won’t show up. I switch the phone back to Parker. “Can you meet at seven?”
“Why? What’s going on?”
“We have to come up with a story to tell the insurance agent. He didn’t believe the parking garage story.”
“What the hell difference does it make how it happened? The car still needed to be fixed.”
“Let’s just meet and figure out a story. My dad’s going to be gone all night so we’ll meet here. I’ll call Ella and let her know. See you tonight.” I end the call and phone Ella.
“Briggs?” she asks, sounding surprised that I’m calling.
“Hey, can you meet tonight?”
“Why? What happened?”
“I’ll tell you when you get here. We’re meeting at my house at seven.
Just push the call button on the gate to get in, or I can give you the code.
” I text it to her. “I just sent it to you.” I probably shouldn’t have done that.
My dad hates it when I give the code out to people, but I’m pretty sure I can trust Ella.
I doubt she’d come back later to rob us.
She’s probably never stolen anything in her life.
I’ve stolen plenty of things, including a yacht, but I was drunk at the time and only took it out for an hour.
“I can be there, but I can’t stay long. I need to study.”
“You can study tomorrow.”
“I have to work until four and then I told my dad I’d help clean the house. He’s calling me about something. I have to go, but I’ll see you at seven,” she says before ending the call.
If my father found out Ella’s coming here, he’d be pissed. He hates her dad for refusing to sell his house. It does bring down the look of the neighborhood, but if it bothers him that much, he should’ve bought a house on a different street, or stayed at our old one, the house I actually liked.
At seven sharp, Ella shows up. I knew she’d be the first one here.
She’s probably never late. I’m usually not either, but only because my father drilled in my head long ago that being late gives a bad impression that could last for years and kill any chance for a business relationship.
This included being late to social gatherings since even friends could be potential clients if you play your cards right.
My father doesn’t actually have friends.
He has potential clients. That’s what he calls his friends.
“Come on in,” I step aside, letting her into the foyer.
She looks up at the high ceiling. It’s over twenty feet tall and has a black metal light fixture hanging down from it. The old house had a crystal chandelier, which my dad hated. His decor style is metal and dark wood.
“We’re meeting in the living room,” I say, waiting for her to follow me.
She’s still staring at the ceiling, so I take the opportunity to look at her.
She’s wearing denim cutoffs with a white tank and an orange plaid shirt over it, left unbuttoned.
She probably just threw those clothes on, not thinking they were anything sexy, but damn, it’s got me thinking dirty thoughts again, like how I’d like to slide my hand under the hem of those shorts, or yank down that tank and feel those perfect tits.
“I’ve never been in a house like this,” Ella says, her gaze slowly lowering to the rest of the foyer.
“You want a tour?”
“Don’t we have to wait for the guys?”
“They’ll let themselves in. And they probably won’t be here for another ten minutes. Maybe a half hour. They’re never on time.” I walk to the hall. “Follow me.”
I show her the kitchen, which is all white with high-end, stainless-steel appliances that never get used. My dad and I do our own thing for meals, which usually means takeout for me and going to fancy restaurants for him.
“This kitchen is huge,” Ella says, opening the oversized fridge. “You guys don’t have any food in here.”
“There should be some leftover Chinese food.” I meet her by the fridge. “Right there.” I take out the container. “You want it?”
“I already had dinner.”
I put the food away and shut the fridge.
“The garage is out there.” I point to it. “And the hallway next to it goes to the laundry room.”
“Where does that go?” She points to the back door.
“The pool and the patio. There’s also a guest house out there but my dad’s talking about tearing it down and replacing it with an office.” I walk back to the hall, with Ella right behind me.
“Isn’t there an office already in the house?”
“Yes, but he wants another one for his assistant for when he works from home.”
“How often does he work from home?”
“All the time. He goes to the office during the day and then works again when he gets home, unless he’s out having dinner with clients. That’s where he is tonight. He’ll probably be home late.” I open the door to the dining room. “This is where he has client dinners.”
Ella pokes her head in the room. “You guys don’t eat in there?”
“We don’t eat meals together.”
“What about when your mom lived here?”
“She never lived here. She lived in the old house.”
“But did you guys have dinner together?”
“Only at holidays. I usually ate in my room or sometimes in the kitchen in front of the TV.”
She turns to me. “That’s kind of sad.”
“Why is that sad?”
She shrugs. “I just like the idea of families eating together. I love having dinners with my dad. It’s the only time we sit down and talk.”
“You like talking to your dad?” I ask like she’s crazy. I dread talking to my dad and try to avoid it whenever possible.
“I love talking to him. He’s a good listener.”
I tense up as she says it, feeling my anger rise as I think about how unfair it is that some people get decent parents while other people get parents who give them bruises and tell them they’re stupid.
I continue down the hall. “The rooms we just passed are my dad’s office and his study.” I stop at the living room. “We’ll meet in here when Finn and Parker show up. Could be another ten minutes, maybe longer for Finn. He’s always late.”
“Can I see the upstairs?”
“Yeah, but there’s not much to see. Just some bedrooms.” I point down the other hall. “Down there is the library and the gym.”
Ella’s eyes widen. “You have a library and a gym? In your house?”
I smile at the shocked look on her face. For a moment I forgot she’s not like everyone else at school who has a house just like this, or better than this.
“C’mon, I’ll show you upstairs.”
I show her the three guest rooms, then let her peek in my dad’s room, but don’t let her go in. I end the tour with my room, which is kind of a mess with clothes on the chair and the bed unmade.
“Your room is almost as big as my house,” she says, going in it.
“That’s it for the tour. Let’s go.” I wait at the door, wanting her to get out of my room because seeing her there makes my mind go back to the thoughts I had of her being in my bed, and in my shower.
“Is this your mom?” She holds up a photo I have on my bookshelf.
“Yeah.” I walk over to her and take the photo, setting it back on the shelf. “It’s from a few years ago.”
“Was she a model? She’s really pretty.”
“She did some modeling when she was younger, but nothing major. She was hoping to get into acting, but then she got married and had me.”
“Did she ever work?”
“Not a regular job. She planned parties for my dad and his clients and did charity work with the other rich moms. I guess you could call that work.”
Ella walks over to my bed and sits down. “So why are we meeting?”
I don’t answer, too distracted by seeing her on my bed. Why would she sit there when I have plenty of other places to sit, like my desk, which is not sexual at all, although now I’m having dirty thoughts about doing her against the desk.
“I’m guessing something happened?” she says.
“The Range Rover. The insurance company doesn’t believe Finn’s story about how it happened. They said the damages don’t match up with what he told them. They’re calling him on Monday to ask him about it.”
“Why do they care what happened?” She gets up and walks over to me. “It’s already fixed, right?”
“Yeah, but if they think he ran into someone they’ll want to know, in case that person shows up later demanding the insurance company pay for whatever damages he did to the other car.”
“Is that what they think? That he hit someone?”