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“I don’t have any fucking time. You’ve seen what my life is like. I’m always at the bar. I also have no fucking interest in dealing with accounting programs.”
“Eventually you’ll have a bookkeeper doing most of this. Right now, I just need you to set up a password for yourself.”
He shoves a hand through his hair as I open the page for him. “Can’t you just do it? I just use the same password for everything.”
I glance at him over my shoulder with a sigh. “Don’t give your passwords out, especially not to your bank information. Especially not to anaddict,for God’s sake.”
His gaze rests on my face. “I trust you, Kate.”
I swallow around the ache in my throat. It’s been a very long time since anyone ever evenimpliedthey trusted me, much less said it aloud.
“You shouldn’t.” I rise from the seat and usher him into my spot. “Just enter your password in this box, and click submit.”
I cross the room and wait for him to finish. His jaw is grinding the entire time, as if what I said pissed him off.
“Done,” he says, stalking out of the office without waiting for my response.
I roll my eyes at his departing back. I have no idea what he’s so angry about—I did him a favor by warning him not to trust me. Anyone who looked at my track record, and what I did to both Caleb and myself, would agree. Beck’s the last person in the world I’d want to hurt, but that doesn’t mean I won’t do it.
His irritation, fortunately, seems to have vanished by lunchtime when he comes back to get me, the way he always does. And that group of women who come in for lunch still wave at him like children instead of grown fucking adults and insist he come over.
“You can’t keep ignoring us!” cries the blond ringleader.
He glances at me and takes a single, reluctant step toward them.
“How’s that bike of yours?” she asks coyly, tipping her head. She’s employing a Southern drawl, one that sounds deeply fake. I close my eyes so they won’t witness me rolling them.
“Still running.” His smile is polite and nothing more. He glances my way again, perhaps to remind her he was in the middle of something. She either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care.
“Talk to me,” she coos. “How’s life?”
This bitch can’t take a hint.
“Can’t complain,” he says gruffly.
He starts to back away and she reaches out a hand to stop him, grasping his bicep. “Beck, stay. Cometalkto us.”
I’ve had it. I step forward, but Beck’s already gently pulling from her grasp. “On my way to lunch,” he says, looking pointedly to where I stand, “but thanks for coming in.”
He walks over to me and places a hand at the small of my back to guide me away. “You should ban them,” I mutter under my breath, shooting them a disdainful glance over my shoulder.
His mouth twitches. “And why would I keep paying customers out of my bar, O Financial Genius?”
I frown at him as he pulls out a chair for me on the deck. “They treat you like a piece of meat. Do youenjoybeing objectified?”
He looks oddly pleased by my tirade. His mouth actually curves fully, if only to one side. “I’m a guy, Kate. I love being objectified. That’s living the dream.”
I flip the menu open with unnecessary force, holding it in front of my face. “You should get a new dream. One that doesn’t suck.”
There’s a quiet laugh from his side of the table. I have no idea why he’s enjoying this as much as he is. I’m sure not.
“You have plans tonight?” he asks.
“Yeah, me and the girls are going to happy hour, then we may go clubbing.”
“Smartass,” he says, balling up a napkin. I dodge and it still hits me. “I was thinking about what you said the other night, about being scared to do anything because you don’t know what will end up being a bad idea. You need to start doing stuff.”
I raise a brow. “Like what, Beck? You’re the only friend I have now, and you’re always working.”
