I hold onto my smile as he walks toward the brand new candy apple red F-150 hugging the curb, ignoring the brutal January wind that sweeps in when the doors to the lot zip open. Mr. Esposito pauses when he opens the driver’s side door. I had the boys in the back place a bow on dash like I do for all my customers. I think it’s a nice touch, and a way to thank them for their business. Apparently, Mr. Esposito agrees. He tosses me a grin over his shoulder, hollering his thanks as he slips inside and pulls away.
The moment he disappears so does my smile. “Your father would be proud of you,” he said. He meant it as a compliment. Mr. Esposito has always been nice like that. But instead of filling me with a sense of pride, his comment sparks a twinge of pain. Some things never change. And some people you never forget.
My heels click against the bleached white tile as I cross the showroom. It’s been a nasty winter with all the snow we’ve had, but I can’t say it’s been bad for business. My eyes narrow when they fix on Oscar looming over Penny. Penny is sweet, smart, and an overall good kid. She hasn’t been here long and she’s trying. Too bad Oscar is stomping on her success, luring customers away from her every chance he gets.
“You snooze, you lose,” he tells her, pegging her with one of his more sleazy grins.
Penny was making headway with the guy who walked in, until Oscar shoved his way between them and baited him away, making Penny look like she didn’t know what she was talking about. If I hadn’t been busy with my own customer, I would have stepped in. Nothing gets to me more than men who target those weaker than them.
“Wren!” Suze calls, waving from behind the finance counter. “You have a call.”
“Okay. Send it through,” I yell, hurrying across the floor, but not before I make sure Oscar steps far away from Penny.
The phone rings one, twice, before I slam the door behind me with my foot and reach across my desk. “Erin O’Brien,” I say.
There’s a brief pause before I hear, “Hi, Wren.”
Shit. My stomach twists the way it always does when I hear his voice. “What do you want, Bryant?” I ask, digging out my cell phone from my desk drawer.
“I miss you,” he says.
“Do you miss hitting me, too?” I fire back.
I’m talking tough. It’s what I do. Too bad I don’t feel so tough. Not when it comes to Bryant. That familiar sense of fear sends a chill down my spine, reminding me what happened the last time I pissed him off. I hit the record icon on my cell phone, hoping to catch him saying something I can use against him. But the damn thing beeps and for all Bryant is an asshole he’s not stupid.
“Are you recording me, pretty girl?” He laughs when I don’t answer. “Now, why would you do a thing like that?”
“Because I don’t trust you, because you hit me―oh, and because you’re an asshole.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, keeping his voice easy. “I’m just returning your call. You keep calling me so―”
“That’s a lie,” I say, my face heating with anger. Since he knows I’m recording him, he’s trying to switch things around. “Don’t call me again. I want nothing to do with you.”
I hang up the phone then. It’s been two months since I last saw him. Two months since he last put his hands on me. I could call the police. The problem is, he is the police . . .
Evan
My Jaguar skids, again, and again, and again, fighting to keep pace with the other drivers insane enough to travel the Blue Route in this weather. Chunks of wet snow pelt my windshield. My wipers squeak against the glass as they race to keep my line of sight clear when yet another vehicle cuts me off, pelting my windshield with more melting ice. My current struggle with life and death does not, of course, discourage Maxine from barking messages over my Blue Tooth. “Yodel called again, they want you to reconsider.”
“No,” I answer, cutting my steering wheel toward the left when my car veers right. “We’re representing Mellon, their biggest competitor. It’s a conflict of interests to supply both companies with the same technology.”
I mutter a curse, when the minivan in front of me slams on the brakes and I just miss ramming into her bumper. And because we’re in Philadelphia, the City of Brotherly love, the woman rolls down the window―allowing snow into her vehicle just to wave an irate middle finger at me. “Rich Bitch loser,” she cries out.
I rub my face. Why am I here again? Before I can finish the thought, Maxine reminds me.
“Evan, I don’t think your stepfather will agree with your decision. The company needs the revenue.”
“Not at the expense of our ethics.” The company is at risk, yes, but it’s mostly due to poor business practices such as the ones Maxine is suggesting I entertain. I understand she learned these tactics by my predecessor, but he was conniving snake―which is why he’s currently serving time for embezzling the company’s money and I was recruited from our London branch to save the enterprise from financial collapse.
“What about your eleven a.m. with the V.P. of County General?”
“Have Ann and Clifton begin if I’m not on time. I emailed them the presentation last night―”