look at the smashed windshield. It’s still intact, but totally destroyed. He rolls his eyes and gets in, annoyed.
I get in and slam the door. “What would possess you to punch the windshield?” I ask as I put my seatbelt on.
He clenches his jaw as he pulls out of the parking lot. “It was either the windshield or the bouncers.”
Hell, that would have been bad.
We pull into the traffic. “You’re not going back to that job, Ashley.”
I frown as I watch him and screw up my face. “I hate that job, Cameron. Stop making it sound like it’s a choice”
“Then why do it?” he barks.
“Why do it? I’ll tell you why I do it… to put a roof over your son’s head, that’s why I fucking do it!”
He glares at me.
“I moved Jenna here from New York to babysit Owen while I work, on the condition that I will pay the rent so she can study from home.”
He clenches his jaw as he watches the road.
“I support three people, Cameron, and I’m on a trainee’s wage. My salary covers rent and food only. No bills, no car expenses, no preschool fees.”
He frowns at me.
I shake my head in exasperation. “I don’t have a two-hundred-thousand-dollar car. I don’t own a multi-million-dollar property investment portfolio. I live week to week.”
He goes to turn the wheel and hits his hand, quickly wincing in pain.
“You need to get x-rays,” I snap.
“Stop changing the fucking subject,” he yells.
“Stop screaming at me like I’m a child. You need to get used to the fact that I work, and until I find another job, I’m staying where I am.”
He shakes his head as he drives. “You don’t go back there or there will be hell to pay.”
I narrow my eyes and shake my head. “Is this your idea of a conversation? Is it? Because this is my idea of you being a complete brat and demanding that I bow down to your every command.”
His angry eyes flicker to me. “Brat?” he yells. “You are a mother and you work in a brothel.”
I shake my head. “And you’re an idiot. Don’t bother going for coffee. We have nothing to talk about.”
“Oh, yes we do,” he huffs as he pulls the car into a parking lot.
I fold my arms in front of me in anger. This fucking man infuriates me.
“Get out.” He growls as he climbs out of the car and slams the door.
I sit for a moment and then he rips my door open. “Get. Out.”
I narrow my eyes and climb out of the car and he slams the door behind me and storms into a coffee shop. He goes to the counter and orders our coffee while I take a seat at the back of the café.
I blow out a breath as I try to calm myself down. Calm down. Calm down. My heart rate is through the roof.
Nobody on Earth has the ability to boil my blood like Cameron Stanton.
He sits down opposite me, and his hand hits the table as his jaw ticks in anger.
What must we look like? Him in an expensive three- piece suit and a broken hand the size of a football, and me, a firecracker about to explode.
“Did you get me cake?”
“Yes, bitch pie.” He snaps back. “With added arsenic.”
I bite my bottom lip to hide my smirk.
He remembers something. “Oh.” He fumbles around in his suit pocket and brings out a piece of paper and hands it over. “I printed this out this morning. I need your signature.”
I read the piece of paper and I frown.
Births, Deaths and Marriages
Application for name change.
“What’s this?” I ask.
“I want his name changed,” he replies flatly.
“What?” I screw up my face. “Is that all you’re worried about? That he carries the Stanton name?” I push the piece of paper back to him aggressively across the table. “How about you worry about getting to know him?”
“About that.” He smiles on cue at the waitress as our coffees arrive. She shakily puts them down on the table. “Thank you,” we both murmur. She then returns with my piece of cake.
“I will pick him up tomorrow morning,” he tells me.
I frown. “What for?”
He widens his eyes. “To sell him on the black market. What do you think?”
I roll my eyes and pick up my coffee.
“I’m taking him to Willowvale to Joshua’s for the weekend.”
“What?” I shake my head. “Oh no, you’re not.” I widen my eyes. He’s on crack if he thinks that’s happening.