Page 49 of Beautiful Rush
“Catch you later. When this is over, we’ll have a few rounds at the pub.”
“As long as you’re buying, I’m in.”
Cheap bastard. But I’d owe him for getting those street races shut down. My IOU list was getting longer by the day. Abby had gotten Angel a nanny job just like I knew she would. Hopefully, it would work out for both parties.
On my way back to Long Island City, I did a drive-by and was relieved to see Keira’s Charger parked across the street from Atlas Motors. Tate was out front, talking to a guy leaning against a Harley. The guy’s back was to me, but I knew it was Connor. Tate lifted his head and stared directly at me, even though he couldn’t see me through the window. I was tempted to stop and talk to Connor and Tate. Then go inside and find Keira. Ask her how she’s feeling. Take her for coffee or a walk. But I kept driving, knowing I couldn’t do any of that. I had work to do and it was going to be a long day.
16
Keira
As I exited the restroom, Tate called to me from his office. I popped my head in the doorway and he swiveled his chair around to face me.
“What’s up, boss?”
“Stop calling me boss,” he grumbled.
“Would you prefer asshat?”
He snorted. “Close the door.”
Uh oh. I closed the door and studied his face, his gaze more intense and unnerving than usual.
“Pull up a chair.”
This was worse than getting called to the principal’s office. Was I getting fired? I dragged over the orange plastic chair from the corner and sat facing him. I was operating on a few hours of sleep and felt all jangly. Sitting in close quarters with Tate was not helping, but I was prepared to beg and grovel for my job, if necessary.
“I love this job,” I said, rushing in. “And if you—”
He held up his hand to stop me. “It’s not about the job. This is about you.”
“Me?” I breathed a sigh of relief that was premature. “I’m fine.” I smiled.
“Uh huh.” That was all he said. Silence fell around us, and I knew that Tate would be quite happy to choke on the silence before breaking it. We’d never had a personal chat, so I didn’t know what to expect or where this was headed. I sat in silence and waited for him to enlighten me.
His office smelled like coffee and brake fluid. My eyes roamed around the room, looking for something interesting to catch my attention. A stack of invoices sat next to a desktop monitor with a blank screen. An Atlas Motors mug filled with pens. A gray metal filing cabinet. Nope. Nothing of interest. The silence stretched out between us.
I cracked first. “What exactly do you want to talk about?”
“How you feeling about your old man?”
He went right for the jugular. Tate and I didn’t usually talk about personal things or God forbid,feelings.
“I’m fine. It’s all good.” As good as it could get after yesterday’s news and last night’s disaster in the parking lot.
“Cut the bullshit. How are you doing? Nothing you tell me will go beyond these four walls.”
Connor told me that Tate was like his priest and he was the sinner sitting in the confessional box. Maybe it would feel good to talk to someone who wasn’t as close to me. Someone who was more neutral than the other people in my life.
“What was it like? Being in prison?” I’d wanted to ask him this for a while but had never had the guts.
“You want the truth, or you want me to sugar-coat it? It’s prison. It ain’t a picnic.”
“I know,” I said quietly. I chewed on the inside of my cheek. “I just…it’s hard to think of him in prison. It’s better not to think about it at all.”
“Holding shit like that inside eats away at a person. By trying not to think about it, you ain’t dealing with it. And take it from me…that shit always comes back to bite you in the ass.” He leaned his elbows on his thighs and studied my face. “You need to visit him.”
I shook my head, horrified at the prospect. I might be brave in a lot of ways, but that would require the kind of bravery I didn’t have. Facing my worst fears. The possibility of…I didn’t even know. More rejection. He probably hated me. I wasn’t his darling girl anymore. “No.”
