Anyway, what do I know? I’m probably just seeing what I need to see at the moment.
He must really like Sienna for her to be here, irrespective of what he said about just going along with it for the publicity. Carrick’s not one to do anything he doesn’t want to.
The next morning after the bar incident, Ben did tell me that when Carrick had gotten back to the bar, he and Sienna had had a massive row. Apparently, he’d reamed her out for the way she’d spoken to me. Ben said she’d tried to downplay it, said Carrick was making a big deal out of nothing. Then, Carrick had told her if she couldn’t behave herself that she could just fuck off back home. Ben said she’d started crying, right there in front of them all, saying she was sorry and that she would apologize to me—which I’m still waiting for. Ben said it was just really uncomfortable, and that Carrick and Sienna had left soon after.
Probably to go have make-up sex.
Ugh! I have to stop having these torturous thoughts. I’m going to drive myself insane if I don’t.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Petra’s voice comes from behind me.
I swivel on my stool to see her holding a steaming mug in her hand.
“I brought you coffee.”
That brings a smile to my face. “Have I told you how awesome you are?”
“I am awesome,” she agrees. “And because of how awesome I am, I thought you could do with some cheering up after this morning. You know…” She pulls out a huge chocolate muffin from behind her back.
“Ah, I take it back. You’re not awesome. You’re spectacular.” Reaching over, I take the coffee and muffin from her. I put the coffee down on the desk but keep hold of the muffin.
“Also, I thought I should let you know that the pop princess is here,” she tells me in a quiet voice.
Even though, I knew it was likely that Sienna would be here with it being race day, I was praying to the gods that she might not turn up. I’m not up to seeing any more public displays of affection today.
Grumbling to myself, I take a huge bite out of the muffin.
Ah, chocolate spongy goodness. Nothing beats it.
“Where is she?” I ask through my mouthful of muffin.
“Up in hospitality, and surprise, surprise, she’s being a bitch. She talked to me like I was a piece of crap because I put semi-skimmed milk in her tea instead of skimmed milk. I mean, the horror of it!” she says with dramatic flair.
I laugh.
“I should have spit in it, the cow.”
Nodding, I take another bite of muffin. “This is so good,” I mumble. “You want some?” I offer it to her.
“No, thanks. You need it more than I do. Just don’t come upstairs if you don’t want to run into her, okay? I can’t see her coming down here.”
“God, yeah, she wouldn’t want to be around us lowly mechanics.” I slap a hand over my mouth as I spray crumbs from it, some hitting Petra. “Oh God! Sorry!” I snort a laugh through my hand, trying to keep the muffin in.
“You’re seriously gross.” Petra chuckles, brushing crumbs from her top. “You’ve got chocolate on your cheek as well, you tramp.”
I rub at my cheek with my arm. “Gone?” I angle my cheek to her.
She gives it a quick look. “Yep, you’re good. Just make sure you look in a mirror when you’re finished with it, yeah?”
I give her a thumbs-up as I take another bite.
“So, we going out tonight?” she asks, resting her back against the desk.
“Er…I don’t know. Probably not. I’m still recovering from last night.”
“You say that now, but when Carrick wins today, you’re gonna want to celebrate.” Her face drops when she realizes what she’s said.
I lift my hand, stopping her from apologizing, and I give her a reassuring smile. “You’re right. I probably could do with going out. And it will be good to celebrate when Carrick wins.”
“Attagirl. Well, I best get back upstairs. I’ll catch you later.”
Turning back to my desk, I put the half-eaten muffin down and take a sip of coffee, clearing the sponge from my mouth.
“Hey, don’t I get a coffee?” That’s Robbie calling to Petra.
“Sorry, only one pair of hands, and they were full.” She gives me a wink, walking backward.
“You heard of these things called trays?”
“You heard of these things called legs? Use them if you want something. You know where I am.” With a bounce in her step, she turns and jogs up the stairs.
“What do you have that I don’t? Aside from the obvious,” Robbie says, letting his gaze drift to his crotch.
God, he’s acting like a total dickhead today. Normally, I can put up with his weirdness, but today, I just really don’t feel like tolerating him.
“I don’t know, Robbie. Maybe this thing called a personality.” I turn away, but something in me isn’t done. I feel all fired up, and I guess all the stress and sadness inside of me just wants to come out on him.
I spin my stool back around. “You know, if you want to shag Petra so bad, then why don’t you stop acting like such a twat all the time and be nice for a change? She might actually be interested in you if you did.”
His face reddens. I’ve embarrassed him.
The thing about embarrassing a man in front of other men is that they come out fighting, and they fight dirty.
“You mean like you did with Carrick? Don’t think we all don’t know that you’ve been polishing his dick. And now, he’s fucked you off for something far better, and you’re all bitter and twisted up about it.”
I feel my throat close up, and my eyes start to sting.
Don’t cry. Don’t you dare bloody cry, Andi Amaro.
And, really, what can I say to that? He’s right-ish.
“What the fuck is going on?”
My eyes swing to the sound of Carrick’s hard voice. He’s standing at the bottom of the stairwell, and he looks mad—no, scrap that. He looks livid.
At first, I think he’s talking to me, but then I see his eyes are trained on Robbie.
“Nothing,” Robbie stammers. “We were just—”
“Don’t bullshit me. I heard what you fucking said. Saying shit like that will get you in big trouble.” Storming over to the pinboard, Carrick snatches a piece of paper from it, not even removing the pin, which drops to the floor.
I’m stock-still my seat. He hasn’t even looked at me yet.
I’m wondering if it’s my turn next, but then he starts to walk away, and I let out the breath I was holding.
That’s quickly sucked back in when Carrick stops at the bottom of the stairs and turns around. He strides over to Robbie with angry determination.
I’m frozen in shock, not sure what to do. Neither are any of the guys. And I’m guessing Robbie thinks the same. We’re unsure of what’s going to happen.
When Carrick stops inches from Robbie’s face, fists clenched at his sides, I actually wince, fearing that he’s going to hit Robbie.
Robbie stumbles back a step.
“You’re an annoying little prick, Robbie, and I’m sick of your shit. Pack your crap, and get the fuck out. You’re fired.”