Her Dirty Builders (Men at Work #10) - Mika Lane Page 0,21

do that,” Esme said politely.

The guy laughed and looked around as if he’d never been shot down before. Then he moved closer to her.

Even with her back to me, I could see her tense. She pulled her purse closer and gripped her shopping bag until her fingers turned white.

That’s when I decided it was time to intervene.

I walked up to them just in time to catch the guy’s parting words.

“You don’t have to be such a bitch about it. You’re not all that, anyway,” he spat.

Esme’s eyes widened at his vitriol, and she stepped back so quickly, she stumbled.

But I was there to keep her upright. And straighten out the asshole who was bothering her.

“Buddy, I think the lady told you to take a hike. But before you do, if you want to keep your front teeth, you’ll apologize for calling her a name.”

He wrinkled his face and looked me up and down. “Fuck off man. Who the hell do you think you are?”

Esme moved closer to me.

“I’m a guy who doesn’t like to see losers like you harassing women. So before you take off, you will say you’re sorry. And you’ll swear never to talk to another woman like that again.”

He turned to walk away.

Big mistake.

I grabbed his upper arm. “Did you hear what I just said?” I growled.

His eyes grew wide, and he tried to wrestle out of my grip. But when he realized that wasn’t going to happen, he rolled his eyes.

“Okay. Okay. I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”

“Look at her when you say it.”

He finally did, and when I released his arm, he took off about as fast as I’d ever seen a scared guy walk.

“Oh my god. What a creep. He was so aggro,” Esme said, her face pale.

“Are you okay?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Thank you.”

“Hey, do you want to get a coffee?”

She glanced at her watch. “Um. Okay. I could do that. I have twenty minutes before I have to be back at work.”

Jesus, don’t sound so fucking excited.

We settled into a saggy old sofa in the corner coffee shop.

“What’s that you’re reading?” she asked, peering into my backpack when I opened it to put my earpods away.

I pulled out my copy of Infinite Jest and passed it to her. “It’s for my English lit class.”

Her eyes widened. “You’re in school, that’s right.”

“Yeah. I had one year left when my dad died. I had to drop out. So now I just take one class at a time. I’ll finish one day,” I laughed, shaking my head.

Talk about taking the long road.

She flipped through the book. “Why’d you drop out? Was it a money thing?”

“Sort of. There was no one else to run my dad’s business. So I had to.”

“Wow. That’s a big sacrifice.”

Seriously. I could have elaborated on how I’d never had any interest in the construction business, and really still didn’t, but it didn’t seem like the sort of thing to share with a client. Or the fact that the business had been almost belly-up when I took over the reins.

“Dad loved his company, so I wanted to keep it alive. But running it is not a forever thing for me. It’s kind of… a temporary arrangement.”

That’s what I kept telling myself. But the more time that slipped by, the less temporary it seemed.

She shook the hefty book. “I’ve never read Infinite Jest. I’ve heard it’s pretty dense,” she said.

I agreed. “I’m slogging through it and am already behind. I have to write a paper on it. And… I have about four weeks to get it all done.”

Esme leaned back into her corner of the sofa and studied me. “I’ll tell you what. I’ve always wanted to read this. I’ll pick up a copy and we’ll read it together.”

I laughed. “Are you sure? It’s a long-ass book.”

She rubbed her chin as she thought. “Yeah. I’m sure. I need something to take my mind off all the… stuff going on in my life. This could be just the thing. I’ll even read your paper for you.”

She picked up her phone and began tapping.

“What are you doing?” I laughed.

She dropped her phone back into her bag. “There we go. I just ordered it.”

I shook my head. “Okay. If that’s how you want to spend your free time.”

Fuck, she was cute. And now we were going to have our own private little book club. I was down with that. Absolutely.

And it couldn’t hurt to have a journalist look over my paper.

The previous coolness I’d seen in