The Rivals - Dylan Allen Page 0,77

a real sense of community. One that doesn’t exclude anyone who really wants to live here. Our housing runs the gamut, so whether you’re making forty grand a year or 400 thousand, there’s a place in your budget in Rivers Wilde,” he says with the same voice as the guy on the Price is Right.

“I’m taking a tour of a unit tonight, and I’m totally excited. This sounds like my kind of place,” I gush. I know I sound like a fangirl, but I can’t help it. It’s out of a dream.

We walk down the wide, clean-enough-to-eat-off sidewalk. Sapling trees are planted in clusters every thirty feet or so. Baskets of flowers hang from the hooks that are fixed to ten feet of brick wall in between the glass-fronted stores that line the street. There’s a healthy crowd of people strolling. They stop and speak to each other. I watch as two men shake hands and then sit down on a bench outside of the coffee shop, Sweet and Lo’s.

“I had the best lattes I’ve ever had in my life there,” I point it out to Remington.

“Yeah, it’s the best in town. Did you meet Sweet or Lo?”

“Yes. Lo is a hoot and Sweet wasn’t sweet at all. But I love them,” I recall happily.

“Here we are,” he pulls open the door with the words “TWIST” scrawled in bright blue lettering on the glass door.

“So, we’ll see you in the office tomorrow? We have a face to face with opposing counsel, clients will be present,” he says and I find something unsettling in his voice and the way he’s watching me.

“TB!” Cass shouts from behind me and Remi’s eyes widen in confusion.

I say, “Don’t worry. She’s not crazy. That’s what she calls me.” I give him an apologetic smile.

He raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Nickname?” he asks.

“More like an inside joke.” I give him a halfhearted smile. His is more of a grimace.

“Okay,” he says, and starts to back down the street “See you bright and early tomorrow. We’re really glad to have you on board,” he says before he turns and dashes back up the street.

“Was that Remi Wilde? Oh my GOD. Do you know what his nickname is?” Cass asks just as I turn to face her. Her face is flushed and her hair is sticking to her face is sweaty strands.

“Yeah, that was Remi. And what was his nickname?” I ask when she doesn’t offer it up.

“The Legend. His mind, his prowess on the basketball court, between the sheets,” she chortles and waggles her eyebrows and then moves in for a hug.

I pull back. “I don’t really want those visuals of my new boss, thanks. And let’s just imagine that, hug, okay?” I eye her sweaty shirt. “Did you run from your office?” I ask her and give her a quick up and down.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she retorts, but desists in her attempt to hug me. “It’s hot as fuck and I had to walk for ten minutes to get here,” she says.

“You look like you’ve been walking for an hour,” I quip and grin at her.

“You just wait until you’ve been standing without shade in the middle of the afternoon in Houston, TX for more than three minutes,” she snaps and pulls at her shirt.

“I’ll make sure to avoid that particular situation. Can’t walk around looking like I work in a sauna,” I tease her one more time and am rewarded with a scowl.

“I’m hungry, let’s get a table.” I pull the brass handle of Twist’s glass-paned double doors open.

“Its like a fancy saloon,” she says as we step inside the restaurant. The cool air-conditioned, dark paneled room does look like something out of a western movie. But instead of sawdust littering the ground, there’s a gleaming mahogany brand with the crowned horse logo of Rivers Wilde on the floor right under the wagon wheel chandelier in the center of the restaurant.

Instead of a bar that runs the length of the wall, there’s a stage in the front of the room, complete with a red velvet curtain behind the wall of bottles. There are no seats in front of the gleaming countertop. It’s just two bartenders, one man and one woman, making drinks and setting them on the bar where waitstaff picks them up. “Shut Up and Drink” is burned into the wood of the bar.

“Wow, I’ve never seen anything like this,” I marvel.

“Hey ladies, welcome to Twist,” a small, dark-haired woman with