Her Dirty Builders (Men at Work #10) - Mika Lane Page 0,32
way.
“Hey, gorgeous,” I said, bending to kiss her cheek.
A couple of her colleagues’ eyes widened, as I knew they would.
“Everybody, this is my friend Ty Wells.” She introduced me around, ending with a scrawny guy with glasses and highlighted hair named Adam.
This was her boss?
After watching us for a few minutes and waiting until we had beers in hand, he cornered us.
“Esme,” he said in an oily voice, his hand on my arm, “you didn’t tell me you were friends with Ty Wells.”
She shrugged. “Do you guys know each other or something?”
Adam gazed up at me, ignoring her question. “Well, you know, the Wells are a very special family.”
Oh. I got it. He was one of those.
Esme laughed politely. “Of course he comes from a special family. He’s pretty special himself.”
Nice.
Adam waved a dismissive hand at her. “Esme—” he started to say in the most condescending tone ever.
She had to work every day with this little fucker?
“—the Wells family is the biggest commercial real estate developer in the state. Haven’t you ever seen the huge signs on office buildings that say Wells Development?”
She looked at me and back at him. He didn’t seem to understand not everyone was impressed by family name and money.
“Yeah. I’ve seen them.”
He rolled his eyes. “And you know what that means?”
Enough.
“Why don’t you tell us what that means to you, Adam? Because you seem pretty excited to talk about my family and me, which is interesting, considering I’m standing right here.”
His head snapped back with indignation. I hated little fuckers like that, and I hated even more that he got to breathe the same air as Esme. Or anyone else, for that matter.
But he recovered quickly. People like that always did.
He smiled and laughed nervously. “Okay, okay. Look, Ty, I didn’t mean to make anyone uncomfortable.”
His hand was back on my arm. “Say, both of you. I have some friends”—he looked around and lowered his voice— “who are very influential people in town.”
He looked at us like he was sharing gold.
“There is a party this coming weekend. I’d be happy to bring you as my guests.”
Was he for real? Did he really think we wanted to spend a second more with him than we had to, not to mention his influential people?
I took a swig of my beer and stuffed my empty hand in my pocket to fight the temptation to wipe the smug right off his face.
Esme moved closer to me to deliver a discreet nudge. “Oh wow. Thank you so much, Adam. I love meeting influential people. But would you have invited me to this if I weren’t a friend of Ty’s? Because I don’t remember you ever inviting me to anything before.”
His face got long as the fake-ass smile slithered from it and his lips pressed into a thin line.
“Well… I… never thought you’d be interested, Esme,” he lied.
Whatever, dude.
And once again, he recovered quickly, like the Terminator sprouting new body parts every time he needed them. “Look. If you guys ever change your mind, just let me know. You know where to find me.”
He squeezed my arm for emphasis and wandered off.
Esme looked down for a moment, then took a deep breath. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
I threw an arm around her shoulder. “Eh. It happens. No need to be embarrassed. I’m not. Hey, you wanna get out of here?”
She nodded. “Yeah. Let’s do it. I’m just going to run to the ladies’ room.”
It wasn’t until we were in my truck that I realized how pale Esme was. So I reached for her hand.
“Look, Esme. Shit like that happens to me all the time. I thought most assholes like your boss would be a little more discreet about their intentions, but I guess there are always exceptions. Christ, that guy was a piece of work.”
She nodded. “He’s awful. Just awful. I feel so badly you had to be humiliated that way.”
“I’ve been dealing with this all my life. I feel badly that you had to be humiliated by that little weasel.”
I pulled up in front of her house, but I could tell neither of us was ready to say goodnight.
“Coming in?” she asked with a sly smile.
Shit. I didn’t need to be asked twice.
We walked up to her house hand in hand. It felt good. I didn’t hold hands with my one-nighters. It was just too intimate, and besides, I didn’t want to give them the wrong idea.
“I’d offer you something, but my kitchen is under construction,” she joked.
“Speaking of which,