The Rivals - Dylan Allen Page 0,74

sailed on the Windrush to the UK. They’ve had to overcome more than you can imagine to get to where they are. And Houston made all of that possible. The people who shop in our stores, the people who eat at our restaurants and buy gas from our stations. So, I took the case because I want to do something good for my people.” His voice brims with passion and I know I made the right decision coming here today.

“Then hire Confidence. She’s the best. That gossip about her is bullshit. You don’t know me well, but if you think I’d let a woman who was less than fucking incredible near my family or me, you’re crazy,” I tell him.

He eyes me with an enigmatic expression and then says, “Where is she?”

“Arkansas. “

“Your girl is in Arkansas? Why?” he asks with an annoying chuckle.

“She lives there,” I say defensively. He raises an I smell BS eyebrow.

“And I fucked up when she was here and she’s not talking to me,” I say and take a big gulp of coffee.

His chuckle turns into a guffaw.

I glower at him.

“Sorry, man,” he says and doesn’t sound sorry at all.

“Interview her. With hurricane season in Houston being an annual event, you’ll never be short of work, and she’ll draw clients for you,” I say.

“And I could get her here for you, so you could try to win her back without going to Arkansas?”

“Yes. And I went to Arkansas. Two weeks ago. She pulled her shotgun out and trained it on me. I didn’t get close enough to talk to her.”

He bursts into raucous laughter and claps his hands together.

“Oh, shit. Does she have a sister?” he asks.

“No,” I say, unamused.

“So, do you want me to tell her you asked me to interview her?”

“No. She won’t take the job if you tell her that. And I don’t want you to hire her unless you think she’s the best person for the job.”

“I’m too addicted to winning to hire losers. If I hire her, it’s because I know she’s going to deliver the best thing possible for the clients. And Barry is a shit. It would be nice to have someone more invested leading the case. So, yeah. I’ll call her. Get her down here. But we’ll have to disclose your relationship to the clients because they should know. “

“She’s not talking to me. Nothing to disclose,” I say.

“If she wants this job, she’ll have to get over that and also talk to and about you in a professional manner. No domestic drama at the office,” he says.

“Let me just tell you. When you meet her, you’ll think she’s the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg.” I say.

He scoffs.

“You’ll see when you meet her. Just remember that you will have to end my life to get anywhere near her.”

He does that annoying whistle of his. “Damn. It’s like that?” he grimaces in sympathy. “Look, if that’s your girl … you better get in there quick. Nothing more dangerous than a good woman getting taste of the world without the aftertaste of whatever bullshit you made her put up with … if she gets too much of that … she’ll never take you back,” he taunts, but I detect the whiff of experience in his advice.

The idea of her getting over me makes me feel like I’m having an out-of-body experience. I can’t let that happen. And yet, what does it say about how I’ve treated her if she prefers her world without me in it? I mean, she’s not exactly a constant bundle of fun, but I can’t imagine life without her. The thought of it makes me howl crazy at the moon.

“If she takes the interview, I’ll let you know. But if you asked me not to say anything, then don’t go telling her yourself. I’m not trying to have her hating me because she thinks I was trying to pull your chain and used her to do it.”

“She’s too smart for that. She knows I would never do anything like that.”

“If you say so, but if that shit hits the fan …”

“It won’t. I won’t let it. I promise.”

He eyes me.

“So, since I have no clue what the feud is about—and my grandfather’s health has failed so badly that he can’t even tell me—I think it’s time we ended it,” he says.

“Just like that?” I ask, but my respect for him doubles. I like how direct he is.