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This man was unlike anyone I had ever met. While most men try to lay the southern gentleman stick on thick, hoping for something to happen, Anthony seemed to simply be himself.
“I think you need to leave,” my father finally stammered, getting to his feet in another attempt to loom authoritatively over Anthony.
However, without so much as a moment’s hesitation, Anthony stood up, matching my father’s glower.
“If you would like me to leave your home, I will be happy to do so. I have allotted a week for this negotiation, but I can’t spare a second more. So, my advice would be to figure out whether or not you are willing to talk and get back to me,” with that, Anthony tossed a business card on the table, nodded to both my mother and I before turning to leave.
“Get the hell out of my house!” My father exclaimed, calling after him as though he was still listening.
Anthony carefully closed the door behind him without turning around.
“Son of a bitch,” my father grumbled angrily before flopping down at the table to eat his dinner, “Can you believe him?” He motioned to my mother, who was stunned to silence.
“May I be excused?” I asked, wanting to catch up with Anthony far more than I wanted to hear my father grumble about something he had no real control over.
“You haven’t even touched your food.”
“I’m sorry,” I answered honestly, “I’m just not hungry.”
Before waiting for anyone to comment, I stood up from the table and walked in the direction of my room. However, when I heard my father start ranting and raving to my mother about their dinner guest, I knew they were too distracted to worry about what I was doing. So, this enabled me to slip outside without being detected.
Chapter 2
Anthony was walking to his car, which he had parked at the end of my long, gravel driveway. After spotting his car, I noticed why he had parked all the way out there; someone had forgotten to open the gate.
That wasn’t very welcoming… I thought to myself as I broke into a jog, trying to catch up to his pace.
“Mr. Shields!” I called when I was closing in on him.
He spun around almost immediately and simpered as his eyes passed over me.
“Please, call me Anthony,” he replied.
“Well, Anthony, you’re quite the badass,” I replied in a flirtatious tone.
“Yeah, I know,” he responded easily, turning back around, and continuing toward his car.
“No one around here would dare speak to my father that way,” I added, increasing my pace so that I could catch up to him.
“Well, I guess it’s a good thing I’m not from around here,” he replied without looking at me, so I grasped his arm and turned him towards me.
A flash of surprise glazed over his expression, but it dissipated quickly.
“Hey,” I insisted, trying to express the allure I felt for him in my voice, “Do you want to, take a walk with me?”
I gave his shirt a little tug and turned my back to him as I moved toward the gardens; a place on the old plantation that was still professionally maintained and exceedingly beautiful.
“Sure, I guess I’ve got some time.”
My heart leapt excitedly in my chest when I felt him brush up next to me. His warmth radiated through my body as though lightning struck me.
“Sorry about my Daddy,” I answered, trying to suppress a childish giggle, “He can be a real horse’s ass…Stubborn as all get-out and used to getting his way.”
“You don’t say?” Anthony laughed, “I’m sorry that it went down like that too. I was looking forward to your mother’s fried chicken.”
“It is the best,” I agreed.
By now, we reached the entrance to the garden and Anthony followed me inside, wordlessly.
