Page 1 of Crave Me

CHAPTER 1

Wren

I drop the keys in Mr. Esposito’s hand and smile. He stares at them in his open palm like a precious gift, because to someone like him who’s worked hard all his life, it very much is.

“Thank you, Wren,” he says, meeting my smile. “I never thought I’d own a new car. Let alone be able to give one to my son as a gift.”

“You deserve it, Mr. Esposito,” I tell him, shaking his hand. “And so does your son for getting into Drexel. Tell Antonio, hi for me?Oh, and be sure to have someone take his picture when you hand him the keys.” I motion to my office behind me. “I want to add it to my memory wall.”

“I will.” He presses his lips tight as if considering what to say. “Your father would be proud of you,” he tells me. His soft brown eyes take in the massive dealership, fixing on the sales board displaying my current rank at number one. “Very proud.”

I hold onto my smile as he walks toward the brand new candy apple red F-150 hugging the curb, ignoring the brutal January wind that sweeps in when the doors to the lot zip open. Mr. Esposito pauses when he opens the driver’s side door. I had the boys in the back place a bow on dash like I do for all my customers. I think it’s a nice touch, and a way to thank them for their business. Mr. Esposito tosses me a grin over his shoulder. Maybe it’s the wind slapping against his face, or maybe it’s because he’s just that touched, but I catch his eyes glistening with tears.

Slowly he slips inside and grips the wheel, his widening smile lifting his deeply worn features.

The moment he pulls away, my smile vanishes. “Your father would be proud of you,” he’d said. He meant it as a compliment. Mr. Esposito has always been nice like that. But instead of giving me the warm fuzzies, that familiar pang tugs at my insides.

My heels click against the bleached white tile as I cross the showroom. The phones ringing off the hook have me turning toward the finance department. It’s been a nasty winter with all the snow we’ve been hit with, but I can’t say it’s been bad for business. One of the secretaries waves to me as she hurries to answer the phone. I wave back, not that she seems to notice. She starts writing as she takes the first call. Yeah, it’s going to be a busy week. But busy means work, and that’s something I’ve always been good at.

My eyes narrow when they fix on Oscar looming over Penny. Penny is smart, and an overall good person. She’s young, and hasn’t been here long, but she’s trying, and I know she has it in her to succeed. Too bad Oscar is stomping on her success, luring customers away from her every chance he gets.

“You snooze, you lose,” he tells her, pegging her with one of his more sleazy grins.

Penny was making headway with the guy who walked in, until Oscar shoved his way between them and baited him away, making Penny look like she didn’t know what she was talking about. If I hadn’t been busy with Mr. Esposito, I would have stepped in. Nothing gets me more than men who target those they think are weak.

“Wren!” Suze calls from behind the counter. “You have a call.”

“Okay. Send it through to my office,” I yell. I rush across the last few feet of the showroom, but not before I make sure Oscar steps far away from Penny.

The phone rings one, twice, before I slam the door behind me with my foot and reach across my desk and put the call on speaker. “Erin O’Brien,” I say.

There’s a brief pause before I hear, “Hi, Wren.”

Shit. My stomach twists the way it always does when I hear his voice. “What do you want, Bryant?” I ask, digging out my cell phone from my desk drawer.

“I miss you,” he says.

“Do you miss hitting me, too?” I fire back.

I’m talking tough. It’s what I do. Too bad I don’t feel so tough right now. Not when it comes to Bryant. A familiar sense of dread sends a chill down my spine, reminding me what happened the last time I pissed him off. I hit the record icon on my cell phone, hoping to catch him saying something I can use against him. But the damn thing beeps, and for all Bryant is an asshole, he’s not stupid.

“Are you recording me, pretty girl?” He laughs when I don’t answer. “Now, why would you do a thing like that?”

“Because I don’t trust you, because you hit me?oh, and because you’re an asshole.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, keeping his voice easy. “I’m just returning your call. You keep calling me so?”

“That’s a lie,” I say, my face heating with anger. He knows I’m recording him and trying to switch things around. “Don’t call me again. I want nothing to do with you.”

I hang up the phone. It’s been months since I last saw him, months since he last put his hands on me. But just when I think I’m rid of him, he reminds me he’s still there.

I could call the police. The problem is, he is the police . . .

Evan

My Jaguar skids, again, again, and again, fighting to keep pace with the other drivers insane enough to travel the Blue Route in this weather. Chunks of wet snow smack against my windshield. My wipers squeak against the glass as they race to keep my line of sight clear when another vehicle cuts me off, pelting my windshield with more ice. My current struggle with life and death does not evidently discourage Ashleigh from barking messages over my Blue Tooth.

“Yodel called again, Evan. They want you to reconsider.”

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