Page 30 of A Smooth Operator

"But you have an impression, don't you?"

I cleared my throat. "Who do you think I am, Remi?"

He frowned. "What?"

I smiled sadly and removed his fingers from touching me. "You've paid no attention to me for all the years we've known each other, which is why you have no idea as to who I am. So, why—"

"You're smart and funny. You have a great sense of humor. You are intelligent as hell. You are an introvert," he listed.

I turned to look at him again. He smiled at me.

"I think you're very smart to have made your business a success. You're close to your family, and you'd do anything for them. You're also conscious of being a Drake."

His smile faded. "What do you mean by being conscious of being a Drake?"

"Just that, you know, you have to behave in a certain manner cause of your last name. Lani wears certain clothes and hangs out with certain people at certain places because—"

"You're saying my sister and I are pretentious as fuck?"

"No," I quickly said.

He snorted. "You're one judgmental bitch, aren't you?"

I was taken aback by his rudeness. "That's neither fair nor nice."

I rose quickly, feeling humiliated. Every time I allowed this man to get close, he lashed out at me. It was cruel. And I'd just about had it.

Tears prickled my eyes, and they were rolling down my cheeks as I all but ran from him, not wanting him to see how he hurt me, how he kept hurting me.

I heard him call my name, but I ignored him. I stopped running and started to walk to the parking area. I'd had only a few drinks throughout the day so I could drive, which had turned out to be an excellent idea. I couldn't wait to get away, get home, and hide under the covers. I was sick and tired of feeling this way, always inadequate.

Chapter 11

Remi

If I could kick my own ass, I would've. That was a shitty thing to say, and I'd reacted so poorly because what she said was true. Lani and I did have to keep up appearances—hell, Mama had drilled that into us all of our lives. Even Dad, who wasn't as stuck up, knew that the Drake name came with societal responsibilities.

I watched her get into her car and drive away.

Fuck!

As she ran, I saw the tears streaming down her cheeks, which she was wiping away furiously.

I didn't want to hurt anyone, especially Echo. She was sweet. She was kind. So, fucking open. For some reason I felt I could talk to her, tell her things I told no one, show her my weaknesses and my vulnerabilities. And how did I repay her? I called her a judgmental bitch.

Takes one to know one, asshole.

I ran a hand through my hair and looked at my watch. I'd been drinking all day, so there was no way I could get on my bike right now to go to her place. Maybe I should just wait until tomorrow and then see her. But that felt wrong. Very wrong.

I knew where she lived. I'd dropped her off a couple of times when she'd been with Lani.

I called an Uber and plugged her address into the destination.

I'd never been inside her house, and I wasn't sure she'd let me in now. But I hoped she would.

After all the promises I'd made to treat her better, I'd fucked it up, and I was so fucking sorry.

By the time the Uber dropped me off in front of her small cottage in midtown, I was certain I was making a big fucking mistake. This had bad idea written all over it. She would knee me in the balls, and I'd deserve it.

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