Page 93 of Ryker

“Bec, where are my—oh Tara. I didn’t hear you come in.” A man with broad shoulders and thinning salt and pepper hair approaches. “You look beautiful, sweetheart.”

“Thanks.” Tara gives him a hug. “I want you to meet Ryker Hudson. My boyfriend.”

Her what?

“William Brisbane,” he says, holding out his hand.

William WHO?

It’s like I’ve been hit in the belly with a battering ram while someone pulls the rug out from under me at the same time. Brisbane. As in Brisbane Realty. I knew Tara worked for them, but I had no fucking clue she was related to them. I swallow the betrayal I feel and shake his hand. “Nice to meet you, Sir.”

Then I shoot Tara dagger-eyes. How could she not have told me this before now?

Maybe it’s because she has no idea how much I hate this company. Or maybe it’s because she does know it and didn’t want to put another hot coal on our burning relationship.

Fuck me running.

“Well, come on. These mimosas aren’t going to pour themselves!” Tara hooks my arm with hers and leads us into a dining room the size of a fucking basketball court. “Sorry for not saying something sooner,” she whispers.

I can’t respond because I’m too busy grinding my molars.

There’s no way she brought me into this circus as a punishment. She’s not vindictive like that. At least, I don’t think she is. Tara said she wanted to give me a personal truth and brunch was it. She wants me to see her life. And going off of the warning from the doorman, and the way Tara’s attitude is overly bubbly and sweet, I don’t like what I’m seeing.

Pulling a chair out for her first, I make sure she’s settled in before taking the seat next to her.

“Garret will be late. As usual,” Rebecca fusses, placing a napkin on her lap.

William glowers. “He’s been in my office with an associate, Bec. It’s not like he slept in.”

“I know,” she pouts. “But I want a nice family meal for a change with no talk about Brisbane business.”

“Brisbane business got you this house and that ten-thousand-dollar necklace you’re wearing,” William growls.

The tension in the room thickens, and I instinctively put my hand on Tara’s thigh. She looks over at me and smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

Yeah. She wants me to see something alright, and it’s not the fancy curtains, expensive furniture, or line up of art on these walls.

Two men enter the dining room, laughing, each holding a glass of amber liquid. One halts the instant he sees me.

Son of a bitch.

“You’re just in time.” William motions at the two empty seats next to him. “Travis, I hope you like crab cakes.”

“Love them.”

“Garret, get our man’s plate loaded.”

My hands curl into fists. Garret stares me down from across the table. It’s cute. If he thinks he can intimidate me, he’s about to learn a valuable life lesson. Again.

“This is Ryker Hudson. Tara’s friend.”

“Hi, friend.” Garret smiles at me like a jackal as he drops into his seat.

Tara’s leg bounces with nervous energy. I rub her thigh to give her a sign that I’m not mad, nor am I going anywhere, and that she’s safe.

“Have you two have met before?” Rebecca asks cheerfully.

“Yeah. We ran into each other at Tara’s the other day when I stopped by.” Garret grabs the asparagus with a set of silver tongs and drops some onto his plate. “You look nice today, Tara. Was it hard to put on clothes for once? I know you like to stay easily accessible for your dick-of-the-month.”

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