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I turn and walk back to my desk and am just about to sit down when a ball of black fabric hits me, and I whirl around to see she’s thrown the silk scarf I had left hanging on the coat rack at me. Her shoulders are squared back, and it’s pushed her chest back out, and with a smug smirk on her face she whirls around, whipping her long, silky chestnut-colored hair until the ends hit the arm of my bouncer.
Huffing, I sit down and pinch the bridge of my nose.
Goddamn girl is going to be the death of me.
CHAPTER7
OCTOBER
How fucking dare he.
He treated me like I’m a child.
Okay, I get the weirdness he must have felt. But he had no right throwing me over his shoulder and making a spectacle out of me. I had every right to be there, and it’s not like it’s my fault. I didn’t know it was him or his business.
He’s only supposed to have Club Onyx, which is why I never partied there.
The longer I sit here waiting for Justina, the more my ire settles in and if I could exhale fire, I think it would be happening right now.
My thoughts are cut off by the door opening, and the tall brick wall of muscle my dad called Carlo is holding it while Justina climbs in.
“Are you oka-” she’s cut off by the door slamming shut.
“Fucking Neanderthal. What happened? I’m sorry.” I just shake my head at her, not wanting to give voice to what I saw, let alone what I’m feeling right now.
“It was just time to go. I’m fine, I promise. I just want to go home and eat some Moose Tracks and watch CSI,” I huff out while leaning back, watching the scenery pass me by.
“Hot take, but Miami is the best one. Horatio Caine can get it. Come to me, Daddy.” I try to fight it, but I let a smile take over my face. Justina always knows how to get me out of a mood.
“I won’t deny that. He’s got that energy.”
The next twenty minutes go by quickly, and we’re pulling up to my apartment building. I don’t really want company and like the bestie she is, she reads my mood and isn’t offended.
“Call or text me later. I’m gonna have Jake here take me home.” A raised eyebrow accompanies her statement, and I reach in to hug her.
“Thanks, Just. I’ll talk to you later. Call that girl of yours.” She waves me off and I turn to walk up the building stairs as they drive off.
My body is coiled tightly with anger.
The problem is that anger isn’t the only emotion I’m feeling right now. Desire is thick in my veins, and my panties have been sticking to me since I watched that man fucking the others.
Not that man.
My dad.
The elevator dings and the doors open on my floor, effectively pulling me out of my train of thought, and I stride down the hallway until I reach 2B.
TheOr Not 2Bsign that Dad bought for me is hanging right underneath, and a sigh escapes me. It’s so damn hard to stay mad at the man, and right now I just want to fester. Stupid ass sign.
Old Man Davis: Did you make it home?
I see the text come across my phone, and I choose to ignore it. He knows I got home; the damn ride share was on his account. Slipping off my heels, I leave them at the door before throwing my clutch and keys on the entry table and moving straight to the kitchen.
Opening the freezer, I pull out the quart of ice cream and don’t even bother scooping it out of the carton. A spoon is pulled from the drawer and then I walk right to my couch and sit down with one leg underneath me. My dress is pulled up to my hips at this action, but I still have this goddamn suit jacket on, so nothing shows.
It smells like him. I’m kicking myself for gifting him this damn cologne two years ago. Freaking Fahrenheit by Dior. All leather, sandalwood, and nutmeg. I love this scent.
I breathe deeply before forcing myself to grab the remote and turn on the TV as I scoop a spoonful of chocolate ice cream into my mouth.
