Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 72973 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72973 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
She slides into a booth, then says, “After all I’ve done for you.”
“You haven’t done shit for me,” I say with a burst of unbelievable laughter. “Get out. This is my workplace.”
She lifts her chin and digs crumbled notes and coins out of her pocket. “I’m a paying customer.”
Ugh. This woman is unbearable.
“I’ll take her order,” Sherrie says.
I shoot a scalding glare at Mandy before I give Sherrie a grateful look. “Thanks. I owe you.”
As I walk away, Mandy says, “Stop locking me out of the apartment. I live there, too.”
My temper flares as I spin around on my heel. “The hell you do! I pay the bills.”
“We’re family,” she argues. “If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t even be alive.”
“Jesus,” I huff, throwing my arms wide at my sides. “I don’t owe you anything for giving birth to me, and being related by blood doesn’t mean shit.” Pointing a finger at her, my words are clipped as I say, “Stay away from my apartment, and the next time you steal my stuff, I’m calling the cops.”
Mandy jumps to her feet and pokes her finger against my chest. “You wouldn’t dare.”
Leaning closer until I can smell the stale booze on her breath, I say, “I will. Get the fuck out of my life.”
“That’s enough,” Sylvia’s voice suddenly lashes over us. “Jaden, throw Mandy out,” she orders the cook, who could easily double as a bouncer.
“I’ve got money,” Mandy argues, and when she tries to take a seat at the booth again, Jaden grabs her by the arm and hauls her out of the diner.
Sylvia gives me a stern look. “Don’t bring your personal shit into my diner.”
Even though I feel it wasn’t my fault, I nod and begin to wipe off the booth where Mandy’s filthy ass sat.
I keep glancing through the window at where Mandy is leaning against the wall beneath an awning. She should take a long walk in the rain. At least, it would wash the dirt off her.
Chapter 6
Dario
Walking into the restaurant Skylar recently opened, I grin from ear to ear as I glance around the establishment. The bamboo against the walls and lanterns hanging from the ceiling give the place a peaceful atmosphere.
I’m taken to an open table, and after I sit down, I dig my cell phone from my pocket and send a text message to Renzo so he’ll know I’m here.
A minute later my friend comes walking toward me and joins me at the table.
I take in the happiness shining from his eyes and say, “You look much better now that the shit with Montes has been dealt with.”
“I feel better.”
Montes’ organization was responsible for the murder of someone close to Renzo, and it unleashed the darkest parts of my friend. I’m glad to see he was able to find closure so he can move on with his life.
I glance around the seating area again, then say, “The place looks good. Where’s Skylar?”
He nods his head toward the back of the room. “She’s in the kitchen.”
I let out a sigh, which is followed by a chuckle. “I don’t know what to do with all the free time I have now that you’re not taking it all up with your shit.”
“If you’re bored, I can give you work,” he jokes. “I have a shipment of machine guns that needs to be checked.”
“Fuck no. I’m not that bored.”
A waiter comes to the table, and Renzo places an order for two tumblers of bourbon. Glancing at me, he asks, “You hungry?”
“I can eat.” The waiter offers me a menu which I decline. “I’ll have Skylar’s signature dish.”
“I’ll just have the bourbon,” Renzo tells the waiter before he focuses his attention on me again. “How are things with the opera house and ballet company?”
“It’s getting busy as we get closer to the winter show.” I raise an eyebrow at my friend. “Are you going to come to the show?”
I expect him to decline because none of the guys understands my obsession with the arts.
“Sure. Skylar and I will be there opening night.” I give Renzo a surprised look, which has him saying, “It’s the least I can do to repay you for everything you’ve done for me the past few months.” His eyes lock with mine. “If it weren’t for you, I’m not sure I would’ve made it through the shitstorm.”
His heartfelt words make me feel emotional, and I clear my throat as I shift in the chair.
To break the sappy moment between us, I mutter, “I knew you loved me.”
Renzo makes a snorting sound just as the server brings our drinks.
We both take a couple of sips of the amber liquid before he asks, “You still watching that ballerina like some crazy-ass stalker?”
I give him a playful glare before admitting, “She isn’t one of my ballerinas, and I haven’t seen her in a couple of weeks. I’ve tried to find her, but the woman is like a ghost.”