Page 308 of Breaking the Rules
Chapter Forty-Five
Emma
"Fuck, why you gonna be like that?" Wes shakes his head as he walks his client to the counter.
The client—a long-haired hottie in a leather jacket and motorcycle boots—chuckles. "Only speak the truth."
"You believe this shit, Em?" Wes asks.
"You. Shit. Seems plausible," I say.
"Franklin doesn't believe we're in a torrid love affair," he says.
"Hmm… I wonder why. It's so believable. I mean, you have that great personality," I say.
"Fuck personality. I have this." He motions to his face. "Tell me I'm not beautiful."
Wes is a lot of things, beautiful included. "Too pretty for me."
"Em, baby. You don't realize my range," he says.
"This guy giving you trouble?" Franklin asks.
"No. He's kind of entertaining." I motion to Wes, who's still going on about his varying degrees of beauty. He could grow a beard. Or get a motorcycle. Or cover himself in grease. "Makes the time flow."
"Talks a lot," Franklin says.
"And thinks he knows best too." My gaze shifts to Hunter. He's tattooing a dolphin on a pretty girl's shoulder. It shouldn't bother me, him touching her.
It's his job.
But I hate it.
I hate that she's close enough to smell his shampoo.
I hate that she's not broken.
That she could drag him to the back room and fuck him without having to worry about freezing in panic.
I hate that she's incredibly sweet—a fucking conservationist, who literally spends her time saving marine life—and that I have no reason to hate her at all.
And that seeing him with her inspires this petty part of my mind. The part that desperately wants to make him jealous.
It's my job, yeah.
But I also want him jealous.
I bat my eyelashes. "Believe it or not, Wes isn't the most annoying guy who works here."
"No." Franklin leans in. Stage whispers, "Could anyone be worse?"
"You don't know the half of it," Wes says.
I nod. "There's Dean."
Franklin laughs. "With the hot apprentice?"
"Yeah. I think she gets more customers than him at this point," I say.
