Page 6 of Enslaved

While she dug two bottles of water from an ice chest on her cart, Heath pulled out a pre-folded bill from his pocket. It was perfectly tucked exactly as his father had taught him to keep anyone from seeing the amount. Only new money flashed their wealth. She handed him the waters. He discreetly passed her the bill.

She smiled. “Thank you, and good luck.”

He handed a water to Court.

Court twisted off the cap. “You should let me tip sometimes.”

The offer surprised Heath. Not only was Court contracted to be here, and should—therefore—have all expenses paid, but no one ever offered to pay with him. Heath automatically became his dad out of habit. “Old money always tips but never flashes their money.”

Court eyed him for a second. “You really had some rules drilled into you as a kid, huh?”

Without his brain’s permission, a smile exploded across Heath’s face. “Old money wears brands so expensive no one has ever heard of them unless they have, but with no logos, of course. Those are your people.”

Court’s smile matched his. “Old money doesn’t touch their car door or hand back a menu to a server.”

“Ah. You’ve heard these.”

Court shook his head. “I spend all my time with old money and I’m observant. It’s a subtle difference between privileged and rude, but I see the fine line.”

Heath scoffed. “I’d never be rude. No one wants to get labeled a diva.”

They shared a smile.

Heath realized he was having a much better time than expected. “Have lunch with me.”

To his shock, Court’s smile didn’t waver. “Okay.”

It seemed crazy to press his luck, but he couldn’t stop. All the way to the car, he plotted ways to keep making progress with Court. He had lain awake all night, thinking about the hurt and rage Court had flung his way. Heath didn’t like it. While he might not be the nicest guy, he would like to think he wasn’t the bastard Court believed him to be.

“I remembered something last night. When I said I would’ve at least known your name, I wasn’t completely wrong. You didn’t go by Court back then. You went by Andrew.”

Thankfully, Court didn’t look opposed to the topic. “Yeah. I used to get teased for Court, so I started going by my middle name.”

Heath’s forehead furrowed. “Why would you get teased over Court?”

Court shrugged. “Why does anyone get teased over anything? Kids are assholes.”

He supposed that was true. “What made you decide to go back to Court?”

Court answered as they climbed into the car. “I stopped caring what anyone else thought. My mom named me after her childhood best friend. It was important to her, and I like the name, so fuck everyone else.”

“Fair. Any lunch preferences?”

Court’s phone chirped before he could respond. “Sorry. That’s my front door camera alert.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and clicked around. A low curse left his lips before Court pinched the spot between his eyes. “Sorry. I’ll have to take a rain check for lunch. Do you mind taking me home?”

The immediate devastation on Court’s face had Heath starting the car. “Not at all. Is everything okay?”

“Probably, but not likely,” Court muttered before falling into a quiet stew.

Heath’s nerves stretched from the strained quiet. His heart dropped when he pulled into Court’s driveway. For some reason Heath didn’t understand, Court’s father, Drue, was doing his best to destroy Court’s front door. It looked as if he had already demolished everything on the front porch. Heath didn’t ask what was happening or if Court needed help. He simply parked and jumped out when Court did. Father or not, Heath wouldn’t drive away and let Court get hurt.

“Dad. What in the fuck are you doing? You know you’re not allowed here.”

The guy’s blond hair was a mess, and his clothes were wrinkled. He went from raving lunatic to perfectly calm at the sight of Court. “You moved your spare key.”

Court scrubbed at his forehead. “You’re not supposed to be here,” he repeated, sounding tired. “I have a restraining order.”

Heath was confused but invested. This was definitely gossip he hadn’t heard.

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