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“Dad still treats me like a freaking kid! I’m not a child. I am graduating college, I’ve worked here since I was sixteen. Five years! I do all that’s expected of me plus some! Why can’t he just treat me like a regular old employee?”
The steam blew out, and all that was left was just plain old sadness and hurt.
“Have you asked him that?” I questioned.
“And what? You know Dad. You really think he’d hear me out and say ‘oh, yeah, you’re right and I was wrong?’”
“No, but he’ll listen to you. Tommy’s fair—”
“To you he’s fair. To me, he’s my father.”
I shoved my hand through my hair.
“Want me to try and talk to him?”
She scoffed. “I don’t need you to fight my battles for me. I’m perfectly capable of doing so myself.”
I could respect that.
Her phone beeped and she stood immediately, hurrying out the door. Not two minutes later she was back with a large paper bag that smelled amazing.
“I hope you like cheesesteak,” she muttered while slapping the sandwich down in front of me.
“Did you spit in it?” I asked her.
“No! Of course not.”
“Shame,” I said with a wink, which made her cheeks flame for a whole other reason.
I wasn’t sure what it was, but the harmless flirting was so much damn fun. I knew I was leaving soon, but hey, flirting with an older, attractive alpha was good for a growing girl's ego. Nothing would ever come of it, but it was entertaining.
“I’m going to go give Dad his sandwich,” she murmured before fleeing the room.
I laughed, then stood and brought my sandwich to enjoy in the break room. Well, enjoy might have been too strong of a word.
Kevin was there too, along with Angel, who must’ve been cold ‘cause her nips were ready to stab someone’s eyes out. They were at the coffee machine refilling their mugs.
“Hey, someone’s getting the full treatment, huh?” Angel teased, sashaying to the table I’d planted my ass at.
“What can I say? I’ve got an in with the boss.”
Angel laughed, then propped her cheek up as she stared at me.
“If you’re waiting for me to share, you’re going to wait forever,” I joked, taking a bite out of the sandwich and HOLY GOD it was so delicious.
I made a mental note to thank Freya and to request it every day for lunch.
“I have my own lunch,” she hummed, watching my mouth while I ate.
Honestly, she was attractive, but there was a certain level of trying-too-hard that was off-putting.
So, I ignored her as Kevin rambled on about his kids and how his youngest just started playing t-ball and galloped like a pony around the bases.
I laughed at his ridiculous descriptions, and it was nice, reminding me of listening to the guys talk in our bunkhouse or around a fire. Immediately as those warm thoughts filled me, the cold, aching reality that three of them were dead sank in.
Kevin’s words bounced off me as the edges blackened around my vision.
BOOM
