Page 65 of Burn It Down

“I wish I had the time. I just stopped by because Daddy said he’d be here today and I needed to grab the auction item from him. Which reminds me…any chance you have your item here as well?

My dad looks sheepish. “I don’t. I waited until the last minute to have it appraised and it’s currently still with them. Any chance you could swing by for it later this week? I’ll let you know once I have it back.”

I’m about to interject that he shouldn’t make her come to him since it’s his fault the item isn’t ready, when Cora smiles brightly.

“No problem!” She looks at her watch. “I have another meeting across town. I’d better run so I’m not late.”

This time she kisses my cheek before waving to the others over her shoulder.

While everyone watches her leave, I watch them. Her father is wearing a prideful smile. My father is smirking. And by the time I get to Dylan, his eyes are already on mine.

Like usual, my father pipes up and pops our bubble. “Who do we have here?”

Dylan separates his feet a little wider, and raises his chin slightly. If I didn’t love himbeforehe squared up to my father, I sure as shit do now.

“Dad, this is Dylan Ryder. Dylan, my father, Steve Ellington.”

Dylan gives a curt nod. “Mr. Ellington. Nice to meet you.”

Before my dad can respond, Martin pipes up. “Dylan here says his shop is a couple doors down from Panaderia and there was a shooting not far from them. You hear anything about it?”

My dad shakes his head. “A shooting? No, can’t say that I have. But you know crime’s been picking up down there recently. What kind of shop do you own, Dylan?”

“Auto body repair.”

My dad’s eyes slide to mine. “The Maserati.” It’s a statement, not a question, and there is no mistaking his displeasure at the fact that Dylan is in my office.

I smile wide and sling a friendly arm around Dylan’s shoulders, telling my dad which side I’m on here. “Yep.”

My father’s eyes zero in on where Dylan and I are now touching and he responds exactly like I’d expect him to.

“Business must be slow if you can afford to step away from your shop in the middle of the day.”

Without missing a beat, Dylan smiles. “Even the Help get a lunch break these days, sir.”

“And yet, instead of eating, here you are, keeping my son from his own job.”

“Who said I wasn’t here to eat?” Dylan holds up the bag of churros as he challenges my father. Based on the look of fury that flashes in my father’s eyes, I know he’s putting two and two together.

Steve Ellington is a lot of things, but dumb isn’t one of them.

He narrows his eyes and looks between Dylan and I before settling back on Dylan. “I suggest you watch your tone and learn your place very quickly,” he seethes.

I never know what to call the man in front of me.Dadfeels to intimate for what he is.Fatheris too pretentious.AndStevejust pisses him off even though it’s his name. So, I don’t call him anything as I move to stand slightly in front of Dylan.

“You will not come into my office and disrespect my guests. I think we’re done here.”

“Don’t forget whose name is on the front of this building, Jacob.”

I should reign it in. I shouldreallyreign it in. But he’s going after Dylan and I’ll be goddamned if I stand by and say nothing.

“The building saysEllington Wealth Management. In case you’ve forgotten, we share that last name.”

My father glances between Dylan and I once more, grinding his molars before threatening, “And it better fucking stay that way.”

Oddly enough, the person in the room who looks the most uncomfortable by the whole exchange is Martin. Naturally a peacekeeper, he shifts his weight and releases a breath.

“Well, as lovely as this has become, perhaps we’d better run along, Steve. You told me our tee-time was for one-fifteen. I’m sure they can accommodate us if we’re a little early.” He looks at me next. “Jacob, always a pleasure. Let’s continue this meeting sometime in the near future. I have some questions after our discussion today.” I nod and Martin quickly turns to Dylan, holding out his hand like he wants to make sure he and Dylan are good, despite his friendship with my father. “Dylan, a pleasure to meet you, sir. Do let us know if the victim from your neighborhood pulls through, yeah?”

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