Big Rock (Big Rock #1) - Lauren Blakely Page 0,65

spills out of the park and we curve onto Fifth Avenue. She points. Far in the distance. Down the avenue. “There. Ten blocks away you’ll find a jewelry store. Up on the sixth floor is our father’s office. You need to go see him and grovel.”

My shoulders sag, and I sigh heavily. “I really fucked this up.”

Nick laughs sympathetically. “You did, man. But now it’s time to unfuck it.”

I hold my hands out wide. A horse-drawn carriage clacks along Fifth Avenue behind us. “How does that work? I’m familiar with fucking. But unfucking—is that like pulling out early?”

Nick shakes his head. “Not exactly. It’s a new scientific discovery, though. Like reverse osmosis, but instead of water, it filters out your fuck-up. Got it now?”

Harper rolls her eyes. “Guys. Focus. Now is not the time to practice one-upmanship in smartassery.”

I drag a hand roughly through my hair. “All right. Let’s do this. What is step one?”

Harper draws a deep breath and turns to Nick. “Should we tell him, or let him figure it out on his own?”

Nick screws up the corner of his mouth, then pushes his glasses higher. “Not sure his brain is working at full-speed today.”

“Tell me what? Were you two talking about this already?”

“Yeah. Duh. When you tried to run off to find Charlotte,” she says, and I wince at the reminder of how I raced off to catch up to her after Rihanna’s song screeched to a halt. But the blond beauty was long gone, leaving me nursing this black-and-blue heart. Meanwhile, she has my phone, keys and wallet, so I’m operating blind.

Penniless, too.

“And what did you decide I need to do?”

“Dude, first you need to apologize to your dad for lying. You need to explain why you did it, that it came from the right place, but that it was a mistake, and you’re sorry,” Nick says, taking on the role of straight shooter.

I nod. “Got it. I can do that.”

“Then you need to try to fix this mess,” Harper says, chiming in.

“How?”

“You should ask to talk to Mr. Offerman. See if you can smooth things over.”

I cringe at the thought of groveling to that asshat. “He doesn’t want to have anything to do with Dad anymore.”

“That’s right now,” Nick says. “Tempers flare in the heat of the moment. See if he cools down. You’ve got to try.”

I nod, taking this all in, knowing they’re right. “And if that doesn’t work?”

They lock eyes again, then look back at me. “You. You’re the way to unfucking it,” Harper says.

“Oh shit,” I say in a heavy voice as it hits me exactly how I’ll have to reverse osmosis this fuckup for my Dad.

* * *

Harper gives me a ten-dollar bill. I feel like a grade-schooler clutching his allowance. “Now, only use it if you need to take a bus home, dear,” she says, like a parent admonishing a child.

She gives me a shove toward the entrance of Katharine’s. “Go.”

I head inside, sticking out like a sore thumb with my gym shorts and ball cap. I make my way to the elevator and press the button for the sixth floor. After the doors close with a whoosh, I inhale and exhale, fighting to keep my focus on my dad. Not on Charlotte. Not on the worst words I’d ever heard in my life.

It was never real.

I don’t know how I could have misread things between us so badly. I was so damn sure we not only had epic chemistry, but so much more. But that must just be the cocky bastard in me, making assumptions that the woman wanted me.

When the woman doesn’t lie.

She made that clear from the start.

She said she’s a terrible liar, which means everything she said at the ball field was true.

How the hell am I supposed to go back to working by her side? To running a business with her?

When the elevator reaches my dad’s floor, the doors slide open. I step out and see a familiar face. Nina walks toward me, dressed in a crisp suit even on a Saturday. But then, Saturdays are the store’s busiest days.

“Hey there. Are you looking for your dad?”

I nod. “I am. Is he in his office?”

“Yes. He’s working on some contracts.”

A flicker of hope ignites in me. Maybe the deal is back on. Maybe the kerfuffle blew over in mere minutes. Maybe there are Walmarts on Jupiter.

Still, I have to ask. “Is Mr. Offerman in there?”

“No,” she says with a small smile, then drops a hand