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“Fortunately, Gia’s not sensitive, otherwise you calling her game stupid would have upset her.”

“Unfortunately, I think Gia is sensitive and takes certain things personally when she really shouldn’t.”

“Fortunately, Gia doesn’t have to be told twice, so you don’t have to worry about her inquiring about the status of our relationship anymore ever again.”

He lit up another cigarette before he said, “Unfortunately, I think that’s for the best.”

“Fortunately, I now understand that we are, in fact, just friends.”

His expression dampened. A few seconds passed before he responded with, “Unfortunately, I have to apologize for my actions that have led you to believe otherwise.”

“Fortunately—for you—I forgive you.”

“Unfortunately, this means I can’t sleep in your bed anymore, either.”

I admired his apology, but that didn’t stop me from wanting to stick it to him.

“Fortunately, now that you’ve made your feelings clear, this frees me up to accept the date I’ve been putting off with Rhys, the roof bartender.”“Bring the kegs up to the rooftop bar,” I snapped at the shadow of a man passing by my office. The hall was dark, but I knew exactly who it was. The asshole had been on my radar ever since Gia dropped a bomb in the car on the way home from the City.

“Me?” Rhys took a step back into the doorway of the office. I didn’t bother to lift my head from the paperwork I had my nose buried in.

“Who the fuck else would I be talking to? Is there another person in the vicinity?” I still didn’t look up.

“Umm. Oak usually carries them upstairs. Those things weigh a hundred-sixty pounds.”

Of course, I knew exactly what they weighed, and I was pretty sure that the things outweighed his skinny ass. I looked up, my bloodshot eyes beaded with contempt. “Are you saying you’re incapable of performing your job?”

“Uh…no. No. I’ll…I’ll get them up there.” He continued to stand there, staring.

“Are you waiting for something?” I bit out. “Get to work.”

“Umm. Sure. Right. Yes, boss.” Even though he said that, when he saw me get up and head over to the door, the pansy-ass stayed frozen in place. For a heartbeat, when his eyes grew wide, and I thought he might shit his pants, I almost felt bad for the guy. Almost. Though that notion wore off before I slammed the door in the fucker’s face.

For the last three days, I’d managed to avoid Gia. I’d been planning a renovation of one of the rental properties I owned out here, and the permits finally came through from the town. While the demolition crew I hired ripped out the dated kitchen and back deck, I spent most of the days meeting subcontractors to get quotes on doing the remodel. Even though I could afford the extra cost of hiring a GC to do that type of shit, I liked to manage my own construction projects. And God knows, I could use the fucking distraction from spending all my time watching over Gia at this place.

My cell phone rang, and the first genuine smile I had in days appeared on my face. I sat back into my chair while I answered. “Well if it isn’t the birthday girl. Sleep in? I called you two hours ago.”

“I was actually out getting supplies,” my mother said. “The phone rang while I was driving, and I don’t know how to hook up the hands-free thing. You’ll have to do that for me this weekend.”

“Alright.”

“I bought a new set of acrylics and some extra canvas. I’m hoping the sunset is as beautiful as it was last year out there.”

“The weather is supposed to be nice. When are you coming out?”

“This afternoon, if you don’t mind. I know I usually come out on Friday, but I need to get back early to help out at the summer cookout they’re having at church.”

“Of course. Whatever you want. You’re welcome anytime. You know that. Let yourself in when you get here, and I’ll try to be home early from the restaurant. I’ll bring home a nice birthday dinner with me.”

“Actually…I was thinking of coming to the restaurant for the sunset tonight to paint, if that won’t interrupt your busy time or anything. I won’t take up much room, just a chair in the corner of the rooftop bar. I don’t even need to bring my easel.”

“Bring anything you want. I’ll close the fucking place if having other people around distracts you.”

“Heathcliff…your language.”

I was transported back to being ten again. “Sorry. I’ll try to watch my mouth. But can you lay off the Heathcliff around my place of business. No one knows my name is anything other than just Rush. I’m like Madonna…only with a bigger di…. Never mind, just call me Rush at work, please, Ma.”

“Okay, sweetheart. I’ll see you in a few hours.”It was almost five by the time I emerged from my office. I hated to sit behind a desk all day, which was the primary reason it took me the entire afternoon to catch up on all the paperwork I’d been avoiding. The kitchen staff had arrived and were here prepping for the start of the dinner rush when I stopped in.

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