“He’s dead to me.”
“You’re scaring me.” Amelia laughed uncomfortably.
“Good.” I nodded my head, then leaned back in my chair and huffed. “Good.”
Chapter One
Mark
Present day
I’d been convinced that I was the perfect candidate for Emory Enterprises, only to find out that the waitlist had been hundreds of applicants long. So, for the next year, what did I do?
Exactly what he said I would.
The only job I could get was working at a car dealership as a fucking receptionist—yes, a male receptionist. Times are changing, okay? Lay the fuck off!
Part of my job entailed greeting customers and then calling over the loudspeaker for certain sales managers to come forward and meet their clients. Then I was privy to all the long waits with financial, where the salesman went back and bullshitted for at least an hour before coming back and “making the deal of a century” for their client.
Now, here’s the thing. I know some dealerships are awesome on customer service, and I have nothing against car salesmen; some of them make bank and really care about getting people into the right car.
But I wasn’t at that sort of dealership.
I was at Fancy Fred’s.
Fancy. Fred’s.
And across the street, my nemesis stood, at the Audi dealership, dressed in black every single day, wearing perfect makeup, heels, and somehow staring daggers at me across the parking lot as if she had won.
Which, technically, in the job department she had.
When I graduated with my business degree, I wasn’t really picturing the guy walking by me with day-old coffee in his mug and a tie with eyesores on it, as if his own clothing even knew it was rough waters over at Fancy Fred’s.
I’d imagined skyscrapers.
Headhunting.
City life.
I had imagined driving that Audi not watching someone else sell them.
At least I wasn’t living with my parents. I guess in that area, I won, where Olivia lost. I heard through Ryker, who heard through his new girlfriend Amelia that Olivia hadn’t been able to afford her expensive apartment and, to save money, had moved home.
Which seemed odd since she had the better job out of the two of us, and I was the one living with a roommate.
Whatever. Why the hell was I so fixated on her anyway?
She’d always looked down her nose at me. Always. And in order to protect myself, I baited her, and man, did she take the bait, every single time.
Which entertained me to no end.
Hell, I made out with girls in front of her just to see that blush burn across her cheeks and her indignant huff.
Fuck, I was getting hard just thinking about it.
Nothing better than an erection at Fancy Fred’s while listening to soft adult rock for the last seven hours.
If a criminal decided to come in and take hostages, I’d probably be the first volunteer.
“Hey!” Fred—you guessed it, our owner—stepped out of his office, his thick white hair in disarray while his black glasses hung low on his nose. He was pulling out a hanky and blowing into it, then shoving it back into his black trousers before tucking in his matching black button-down as if he’d just had a quickie with the lady from finance.
Was he flushed?
I cleared my throat. “Sir, nice to see you today.”
“Yeaaahhhhhh…” He leaned so far over the receptionist desk that I shoved my rolling chair back. Huh, maybe if I spun in it, I’d pass out and wouldn’t have to have this conversation. “I’m gonna have to let you go, squirt.”
Oh yeah, and he called me squirt like I was ten, not twenty-two.
Wait, what?
“Excuse me?” My eyes narrowed. “I don’t think I understand.”
“You…” he said slowly as he pointed his heavily jeweled hand in my direction, “are being let go.”
I gulped. Was I really getting fired from Fancy Fred’s? Really? “Can I ask why?”
“’Course, squirt!” He stood to his full height and clapped his hands. “Nancy over there has a girl in high school who needs a job. She’s half the price of your fancy college education, and I was gonna need to cut your hours anyway since things haven’t been so great around these parts with that damn Audi dealership moving in across the street.” He muttered a few more curse words, and I followed his gaze.
As if she knew I was getting fired, there Olivia stood, greeting a customer with a bottle of Evian and a drop-dead smile.
Damn it!
This was all her fault!
Or her boss’s fault.
Whatever… it had all started with her, hadn’t it?
And now it was ending with her.
I shoved my chair back. “I’ll just grab my things.”
I reached for my things only to discover the only object that was mine was the travel mug I’d brought from home with “this is probably gin” scrolled across it.
“Yeah,” I picked it up. “So, um…got ’em…” My wallet and keys were still in my pocket as I silently left my stupid ass job. Damn it, I didn’t even have a plant or box to carry out!
How humiliating.
With a grimace, I unlocked my old Dodge truck and crawled in. What the hell was I going to do now?
Rent was going to be due soon.
And as much as I would have loved to move back in with my parents, they were divorced. My mom was in Palm Springs, my dad golfing in Florida. I’d been on my own since I was eighteen.
I slammed my hands against the steering wheel when a knock sounded on my window, scaring the shit out of me.
It was Fred again.
I turned on my truck and hit the electric window button. Fred shoved his head inside my space with that dumbass smile on his face again. “Gonna need the keys, squirt.”
“I’m not squirt,” I said through clenched teeth.
His smile didn’t even falter; he just shrugged. “You’re young, kid. You’ll land on your feet. Hey, maybe try the parts lot down the street. I heard they’re giving kids an extra nickel on top of the eight bucks an hour they pay if they can salvage extra equipment.”
“Yay.” I deadpanned. “A nickel.”
“Or two, if you’re lucky.” The man looked seconds away from roughing up my hair and slapping me on the cheek.
I dug into my pocket and grabbed the cool metallic key to the building. “Here.”
“Okie dokie!” He pulled back. “Chin up, squirt!”
I had a sudden image of me yelling, “I’m not squirt,” then tackling him to the ground as I punched the smile right off his face. The daydream was better than naked tits…” I shook myself out of it and sent the window sailing back up as I quickly pulled out of the parking lot, completely and utterly fucked.
Chapter Two
Olivia
“Lucky bastard,” I whispered under my breath. Mark was getting sent home early.
In the last year, I’d seen him greet customers, wearing whatever the hell he wanted, coming in an hour later than I had to and leaving at six when I had to stay until eight, which was ridiculous by the way, because most customers came in either during the day or right after work. Rarely did we have anyone I needed to greet at eight. Rarely was anyone even in the showroom other than some of the diehard salesmen who refused to go home even if it wasn’t their shift.