Pretty Boy (Perfect Boys #1) - K.M. Neuhold Page 0,37

like he suggested, and I’ll find a job so I can buy my own new clothes.

“My assistant, Gannon, is going to drop off a cell phone for you shortly, and if you need him to show you how to use it, just ask.”

I bristle. “I’ve used a phone.” I know his friends all think I’m some kinda backwater hick, but I’ve used a dang phone before. I just ain’t had the money to buy my own.

“Of course, sorry. I’m just feeling a little anxious about going into work and dealing with Kiernan and Alden,” he admits, giving me an apologetic look.

That makes sense. They had a fight, and now he has to go spend all day with them. That’s no fun. Maybe I can do something nice for him like making sure dinner’s ready when he gets home.

“When’ll you be back?”

“Should be around four or five,” he answers, checking his watch. “And I’d better get going. Stalling isn’t going to make this any less irritating to deal with.”

Anxiety squirms in my stomach. What if his friends convince him I’m not worth keeping around after all? What if he comes home tonight with a bus ticket back to Billow? I shove a spoonful of oatmeal into my mouth and nearly gag on it, my nerves are going so haywire. Barrett puts a hand on the back of my neck and gives it a light squeeze, which calms me a little, but not enough. He wishes me a good day, and I nod, my mouth too full to say anything back. As I watch him walk out of the kitchen, the sound of the garage door opening and closing behind him a minute later, all I can think is I’d better prepare myself to be tossed out on my backside before the end of the night. I won’t blame him. He’s only known me a week; why would he choose me over his friends?

I poke miserably at my oatmeal a while longer, feeling too anxious to eat but knowing that Daddy made it for me and wants me to finish it. When it goes cold, I give up and scrape it into the garbage disposal.

The doorbell sounds, and I jump nervously, laughing at myself when I remember that some fella named Gannon is s’posed to be bringing me a phone. I hurry to the door, pulling it open to find a tall, grumpy looking man with a buzz cut. There’s a bit of dark stubble on his cheeks, and, to my relief, he’s dressed similarly to me in a plain black t-shirt and a pair of holey jeans. My eyes zero in on a patch of scarred skin peeking out from the collar of his shirt before I quickly look away. Something tells me he did the same thing with my birthmark.

“You Sterling?” he asks, his voice just as gruff as the rest of him.

I nod quickly. “Pleased to meet ya,” I say automatically, and he grunts in response before holding the phone out to me. I barely have the chance to thank him before he’s turning around and walking away. I notice he’s limping as he goes, and I wonder for a second about his scars before I decide it’s not really my business and take my new phone into the house to get it set up so I can call the driver Barrett left me the number for.

Barrett

I fidget with my tie and glare at the tall glass building that houses the Russell Investments Group on the fifth floor. I own the entire building, and the other nine floors all house companies I’ve funded or invested in. Alden argued that we should be on the top floor, but five felt just fine to me.

I don’t relish having to deal with Kiernan and Alden. And if we didn’t have a meeting scheduled to go over our quarterly finances, I would’ve worked from home today, not only to avoid them, but because it felt wrong to leave Sterling all alone on his second day in the city. With a final huff, I get out of the car and head inside.

While I ride the elevator up to the right floor, I consider my fresh annoyance with my friends this morning for having gotten in my head yesterday. I hesitated before giving Sterling my credit card. I know I can trust him. Hell, the boy didn’t even want me to buy him dinner when we met, and I saw the way his face hardened