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“What do you mean?” I adjusted the gloves on my hands. “I don’t even know her. I just hated how she made it seem like I was the bad guy for doing something logical.”
“Sure—”
“How are you?” I asked, trying to change the subject. Arty and I fought more often than not, mostly because he was a recovering heroin addict. Each time he fell off the wagon, he often found himself at my doorstep, sometimes begging for help and asking me to not tell our parents, and other times he had issues. But he’d been clean now for seven months.
“I’m good. Better than you, seeing as how you just tried to change the subject.”
“Try to keep up,” I said as I put my helmet back on.
Two days was enough. I’d had her, and it was over. It was time to m
ove on.
That was life.
CHAPTER SIX
Gentlemen Need Not Apply
Felicity
Day 1
4:19 a.m.
Spinning slowly in my office chair, I twirled the pens in my hands as I tried to not check my cell phone for the millionth time, clicking the earpiece when another call came through.
“Hello, my name is Felicity. How can I help you today?” I said with a fake amount of cheeriness.
“Yeah, if you guys can stop embarrassing the fuck out of me, that would be great!” The women yelled so loudly I had to remove the Bluetooth from my ear for a moment. This was going to suck.
Taking a deep breath, I put a smile on my face. “Ma’am, I’m sorry. Could you please tell me what the problem is?”
“My card! It’s not working. I was in Burberry, trying to buy a purse for my sick grandmother, and the lady said my card had been declined. In. Front. Of. Everyone!” She stretched out each word more angrily than the last. “Which is impossible because my father owns one of the biggest oil ranches in Texas. So tell me, lady, why the hell was my card declined?”
Screw—do not engage, Felicity, do not engage.
“Ma’am, can I get your credit card information, please, so we can work this out?”
She sighed over the phone like I was the one wasting her time with the security questions. I typed quickly, hoping to get this nightmare over with.
“Are you currently in London?”
“I said I was in Burberry, didn’t I? Of course I’m in London, you idiot.”
Clenching the mouse as tightly as I could, I brought up her account information.
“Ma’am, it seems like the reason your card was declined was because of a spending limit that was put in place two days ago.”
“What do you mean a spending limit? Take it off right now!”
“Ma’am, I’m truly sorry you were embarrassed, but the only one who can remove the limit seems to be the account holder, a Mr. Andrew Dallas.”
“You people are useless.” She hung up.
I hate people.
Leaning back in my chair, I lifted my cell phone, but the only texts I had were from Mark and Cleo. It was funny how different both of their texts were.
