Page 2 of Crazy In Love
Her chair skidded loudly against the floor as she pushed to her feet and stormed toward me, catching me off guard.
She’d never been confrontational. Hell, even when I’d told her off recently in her flower shop, she’d just stared at me. Clearly, I’d never seen Emilia Taylor intoxicated.
She poked her finger into my chest. Hard. “I’ve got another B word for you, buddy.”
“Is the new word ‘buddy’? Because that’s terrifying,” I said dryly. “I’m shaking in my boots.”
“Nope.” She tipped her head away from me, her long dark hair cascading down her back as she looked up at me. She was a tiny little thing, and with me being six foot three inches, I towered over her. But dangerous things come in small packages sometimes. She poked me again, because apparently, drunk Emilia was much bolder than sober Emilia. “My new word is ‘biiiitch.’” She dragged the word out dramatically, and I tried not to laugh.
“‘Bitch,’ huh?”
“Did I stutter?” She narrowed her gaze, her long nail knocking against my chest once again. “You’re going to be my bitch when I clear my name, and then you’re going to apologize to me.”
I wrapped my large hand around her small finger, holding it still and leaning down as I got closer to her face. “Are you going to get Mommy and Daddy to lie for you and say it wasn’t you?”
Emilia’s parents owned theRosewood River Review, and they were keeping their anonymous author a secret. And they sure as hell were not going to throw their daughter under the bus.
She shook her hand hard and tugged it away. When she lost her balance, I instinctually grabbed her arms before she hit the ground, then pulled her forward as her body slammed into mine with a jolt.
She shoved against me hard, and I stepped back, as she glared at me.
“This is not about my parents, you jackass. This is about the fact that your little outburst got my business egged today. And a flower shop with dried egg all over it does not appear very welcoming,” she shouted. Her words were not nearly as slurred or slow when she was talking at this volume.
“So, I’m a jackass, a bitch, and a bastard. Good to know.” I shrugged, as if I didn’t have a care in the world, because most of the time I didn’t. But I was in no mood for an altercation with a woman I despised when I’d just come here for a quick beer. “For the record, I didn’t egg you. Not sure why you’re coming at me about that.”
She shook her head and threw her hands in the air. “You came into my flower shop and made false accusations, which is obviously the reason for it.”
“Well, then you shouldn’t have written the damn column. If you can’t stand the heat, get the hell out of the kitchen.” I walked backward as I returned to the table.
She flipped me the bird, and I chuckled, because a heated Emilia Taylor was pretty entertaining.
Maybe that’s why all the girls were friends with her.
I quickly sat, took a long pull from the bottle, and set it down. Easton, Rafe, and Axel were all gaping at me. Lulu, Henley, andEmilia left the table to go to either the restroom or the dance floor.
I had no idea. It wasn’t my business.
I glanced around the table, narrowing my gaze. “Why are you staring at me like judgy bastards?”
“Dude,” Easton said, voice low as he leaned forward. “Her flower shop got egged.”
“And you think I egged her business?” I laughed. “I got news for you, brother: I have much better things to do than toss some yolk on the business of a woman I despise.”
“We don’t think you did it, assmunch,” Axel said with a laugh. “But it happened because people think she writes the damn ‘Taylor Tea’ column, and that’s because of your outburst.”
I chuckled. “You’re fucking kidding me, right? She writes a column that some locals don’t like, and it’s my fault she’s getting egged?”
“You are the one who shouted it out in the middle of her shop,” Rafe said. “So the few people that actually don’t care for the column, now believe that she’s writing it and that she’s being targeted for it.”
I leaned forward, my gaze moving past each of them. “Then she shouldn’t have written the damn column if she doesn’t want to deal with the fallout. And of course very few people have a problem with it. She mainly targets our family.”
“Let me ask you something,” Easton said, arms crossed over his chest now. “Have you ever considered the thought that she actuallydoesn’twrite the column?”
I took a sip of my beer. “No. I feel confident that it’s her. She’s got all the inside scoop. Most of the stuff that’s being printed about our family is not public knowledge. It’s an inside job. And look how cozy she is with the girls.”
We all turned to see the three of them out on the dance floor shaking their asses to Morgan Wallen as he blasted through the speakers.
Emilia had her hands in the air, head tipped back in laughter, tits bouncing with every movement.
