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“You think you can manage that somewhere else, preferably far, far away?”
He scans the screen and slams his laptop closed. “Putain!” Fuck. Chest heaving, he picks up one of his cellphones from the counter in front of him before dialing. “Get the new here. Ten minutes.”
He crosses the kitchen, grabbing a nearby bottle of gin and pouring a healthy drink into a tumbler full of ice. He circles it, deep in thought with the ice cubes rattling as he swishes the clear liquid, one, two, three times before he takes a long pull.
“It’s a little early for a cocktail, isn’t it?”
Silence.
“Good talk,” I roll my eyes. I’m halfway to the dining room when he speaks up behind me.
“You’re wrong, you know. It’s not people like you and your mother.”
“What?”
“When we first spoke, you said I was fighting for people like you and your mother.”
“Yeah, what’s wrong with that?”
“Everything’s wrong with that,” he bites. “Everything. You want to single yourselves out.”
“I meant—”
“I know what you meant. It’s not just the blue-collar workers at your father’s plant or anywhere else for that matter. That’s secular thinking.”
“Fine. I think wrong, I love wrong, my loyalty is misplaced, and I’m just an all-around fumbling idiot. Pardon me if I don’t give a shit that I’m not up to your standards.”
He again swirls the ice in his drink, one, two, three times before taking another sip.
“You’re tracking my every move already. Do you really have to be present to do so?”
“I’m cleaning up the fucking mess that’s been left for me.”
“I don’t understand why you’re vetting me so hard. I don’t know if you’ve been to a ‘party’ recently, but have you seen some of the people working under your fat thumb?”
He eyes me speculatively over the rim of his glass before he lowers it.
Just as he’s about to speak, the doorbell rings and I roll my eyes.
“These aren’t your headquarters. This is my temporary home, find another place to do your evil overlord bidding.”
He moves past me, ignoring my comment entirely before answering the door. A second later, RB and Terrance walk in.
“Hey, girl,” RB greets, just as Terrance speaks up looking between Tobias and me. “Thought you were Dom’s girl. You’re getting around, aren’t you?”
Humiliation heats my face as he eyes me in a way that lets me know exactly what he thinks about me.
Tobias’s demeanor shifts before he turns to me, his expression granite. “Give me your keys.”
“What?”
He lowers his eyes to the keys in my hand. “Give me your car keys, Cecelia.”
“Yeah, I don’t think so.” He walks over to me and holds out his hand, and I sigh before handing them over. He turns and hurls them at Terrance, who barely manages to catch them at his chest, a wince on his face from the sting. Tobias’s tone is unforgiving when he speaks.
“Wash and shine her car, soap, sponge, water, and wax, and she better be able to see her fucking reflection in it when you’re done.”
I step forward. “That’s not necessary, I—”
