Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 149209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 746(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 149209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 746(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
I wonder if Ash knows that shy Samantha is interested in him.
Bethany emerges from the hall that houses the employee break room and lockers, slings a little purse over her shoulder, and heads for the parking lot. Instead of walking to her car, she stands under the awning and pulls out her phone. I follow her with a frown.
“You’re heading home?”
She turns to me and nods. “As soon as I call for my ride.”
Who is coming to pick her up at three a.m.? Family? A boyfriend she failed to mention? “I’m not sure it’s a great idea for you to stand outside and wait alone. That guy who gave you a hard time earlier? I wouldn’t put it past him to come back and harass you some more.”
“You’re right, but…” She looks behind her to find Andy locking up the bar, pocketing the keys, then sauntering toward his truck with a wave.
She can’t go back inside. This is my opportunity.
“I have Ash’s car if you want a ride home.”
That contemplative lip-biting move tells me she’s considering my offer. It’s also wreaking hell on my restraint.
Why do I have to find Bethany Banks sexy?
“I don’t want to inconvenience you…”
But she didn’t mind “inconveniencing” people by taking hundreds of millions of dollars from them?
“Aren’t you waking someone else up in the middle of the night to come get you?”
She hesitates, then nods reluctantly.
“Beth, I’m already awake. I’m already driving myself home…”
“But where I’m staying… It’s not close.”
“The island is only so big. How far can it be?”
“A good thirty minutes.”
That would give me time to work on her, see if I can get her to start opening up to me.
I shrug like it’s no big deal. “I don’t mind.”
She glances down at her phone, then back up at me. “All right. Thanks.”
“Happy to help.” I lead her to the car and hit the fob to unlock Ash’s serviceable wheels. “It’s messy, I warn you. Ash thinks organization is a four-letter word.”
Bethany sends me a faint smile. “I’ll pretend not to notice since you’re doing me a huge favor.”
As I back out of the parking space and exit the lot, I glance her way. Shadows cling to the feminine angles of her face. The silhouette of her long lashes curls against the night. She clasps her hands in her lap, looking nervous.
“You okay?”
She shrugs. “Fine.”
Bullshit. “Beth…”
“Just tired.”
I’m still not buying it but before I can say anything, her stomach rumbles. “And hungry?”
She gives me a self-deprecating grin. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m starving.”
“I just never had time for dinner.”
“Ditto. I’ve tended bar before but never in a place this hopping.”
“I’ve never even waited tables, so this whole week has been a shock. It’s really busy.”
“Yeah? What was your last job?”
Let’s see how she answers that.
Instantly, she draws up tight. “It was all paper pushing behind a desk. Something I’ll probably never do again. Um, where I’m staying is past the airport. When you reach there, keep heading east.”
Her change of subject isn’t even subtle. I wonder why she thinks she’ll never work in investment banking again. From her perspective, she got off scot-free. Why wouldn’t she set up shop somewhere else, ride out a few years to let the heat die down and gain new clients’ trust, then repeat her scam all over? But clearly, the subject is closed.
“No problem. Hey, we’re driving past Zippy’s. They’re open twenty-four hours. What about a quick bite?”
“Oh, that’s not necessary. You don’t have to—”
“I could use the food.” And the extra time alone with her. Who knows when I’ll get it again?
“In that case…all right.”
We’re there in twenty minutes. The restaurant is small and well lit. Inside, there aren’t many places to sit, but we order—she insists on paying for her own breakfast bagel—then we grab an open table and wait for our food.
The initial silence is awkward, and I wrack my brain for another conversation starter that won’t get her back up. “Who was going to pick you up?”
“My oldest brother.”
Maxon. I remember reading he’s a real estate shark. “I thought you were staying with distant family.”
Bethany doesn’t answer for long moments. “I’d never met him until five days ago. It’s complicated.”
That shocks the hell out of me. Granted, Maxon is her half brother, but she’d never met him until this week? “Wow, I guess so. I have brothers. We’re really tight.”
“That sounds…nice.”
Her voice is soft, almost wistful. Like she’s envious? Like she wishes she had a close-knit family?
“Do you like him?” I ask.
“Yes.”
No further elaboration. She’s choosing her words carefully. But she’s still talking, so I keep gently prying.
“Do you have other family here?”
“Two more brothers and a sister, along with all their spouses.”
Two more brothers? My research indicated Barclay only had one other son, Griffin. But why would she lie?
“And you’re just now meeting them?”
She nods. “On Christmas Eve, yes.”