Page 123 of Show Me How
“There’s someone else here with him too. He went into Maggie’s.”
“You’re fucking kidding me,” I say bitterly, scrubbing a hand down my face.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought too. Does Millie know? I can go upstairs and tell her.”
I shake my head, dropping my hand. “Don’t bother.”
“You want her to come down?” Bryce asks slowly, confused.
“She was beside me when you called.”
A pause as my best friend soaks that in. When she starts blinking, I nearly laugh.
“Beside you . . . as in . . .besideyou?”
“She was in my goddamn bed, Bryce. And she’s too stubborn to stay upstairs for long, so I need to go out and talk to this guy before?—”
I cut myself off, unable to admit it out loud.
“Millie isn’t going to go home with those fuckers,” she declares, more confident than I am.
“I’m going outside. If you see me close to doing something that’s going to get me hauled away in a cop car, please intervene.”
“How about you just don’t do anything stupid? Men like that don’t play fair, Shade. Trust me.”
The warning falls on deaf ears once I turn for the door. I keep my spine straight as I shove it open and join the man on the sidewalk, ignoring the bitter chill of the morning on my bare arms.
Who I assume to be Millie’s father regards me with a blank, emotionless expression that I’m sure as shit not going to fall for. It’s all a façade. I know for a fact he’s planning at least ten different ways to make me disappear before I so much as open my mouth.
A man like that doesn’t look at me and see a worthy opponent. He sees a man so far below him that it’s a wonder I don’t automatically bow at his feet.
“Are you the owner of this place?” he asks, voice cold and detached.
“That depends on who’s asking.”
“Sterling Harrington.”
I eye the hands tucked into the pockets of his slacks and swallow a laugh when he doesn’t pull one free to offer it to me. Making a show of crossing my arms, I arch a brow.
“And why are you here asking, Sterling?”
His eyes are so similar in colour to Millie’s, but instead of warm, they’re blizzard cold. “You’re harbouring someone who doesn’t belong to you.”
“I don’t know who you mean,” I state, glancing past him at the door to Maggie’s.
Sterling turns long enough to stare at where Millie’s car has been parked along the curb for the past couple of weeks. I’ve moved it a few times so the RCMP don’t tag it when they do their routine sweeps through town, but other than that, it hasn’t moved.
“Stop playing coy.”
I narrow my eyes. “You’re going to have to be more specific, then. I expected someone with your business experience to at least know when to be straightforward.”
“Alright.” He clears his throat. Pulling his right hand from his pocket, he points lazily at Millie’s car. “That belongs to my daughter. Now, unless she spent the night at the fire station or the shop down the street, I can only expect that she’s somewhere in the business behind you. I would like if you went inside and got her for me.”
I hum lowly, pretending to think it over before grinding out a single word. “No.”
“No?”
“That’s right. I’d appreciate it if you left now.” I take a step back toward the door, wanting to be done with this before it gets a hell of a lot more complicated.
