Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 81407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
“Then why wouldn’t you want your other children to know? You’re confusing me, Connie, and I’m loath to give out money when I don’t have all the facts.”
“I really didn’t want to resort to this, Rock.”
“Resort to what?”
One more saccharine smile. “Let’s just forget about it. Give me what I came for, and you won’t hear a peep from me again.”
“Not so fast. First you’re going to tell me why you don’t want my siblings to know you’re asking for money. Surely they wouldn’t find any of this surprising.”
Connie Wolfe was up to something. Something that was no good.
“Rock…please.”
“You come to me. The child who probably hates you the most, except possibly for your only daughter, whose father you let molest her.”
“Leave your sister out of this.”
“I’m sure Riley despises you as much as I do. Reid and Roy are your only hope, but you don’t want them to know you’re here asking me for money. What are you up to?”
I’d been away too long. Or maybe it wouldn’t have mattered. I’d never be as hateful and devious as my mother. Reid and Roy knew something. Something they were going to tell me.
“Get out!” I spat.
“Rock, I—”
“You won’t get a penny from me, Mother. At least not until I know what you’re hiding.”
“I’m not hiding anything.”
“Sell it to the Air Force. Do you really think I’m going to hand over money without consulting my brothers? I don’t know shit about this business. I don’t even know where all the assets are. I have zero in my bank accounts right now. Anything you get would have to come from the business funds.”
“Rock—”
The phone on my desk buzzed. “We’re done here, Mother.” I punched the button. “Yeah?”
“Mr. Wolfe,” Carla said, “Sergio is here.”
“I don’t know any Sergio.”
“Your stylist. He’s here to do your hair and eyebrows.”
My eyebrows? No one was touching my eyebrows. “Tell him I’m busy.”
“Mr. Wolfe made the appointment.
“Which one?”
“The other one. Reid.”
“For Christ’s sake,” I muttered. “Send him on in.”
Someone tapped on my door. “Yeah. Enter.”
A more masculine man than I expected entered. He was tall and broad with blondish hair in a ponytail. Looked mildly normal. Except for the nose ring.
Another man, this one a little more flamboyant, and a skinny woman with pink hair followed him, carrying large bags.
“Mr. Wolfe,” the large man said. “Pleased to meet you. I’m Sergio of Manhattan Hair Design. It’s my pleasure to be of service to you.”
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” I turned back to my mother. “If you’ll excuse me. Apparently I have a haircut.”
“A cut and style. Plus a shave. Full grooming,” Sergio said. “Mr. Wolfe’s orders.”
“Mr. Wolfe doesn’t have a say in what I do, but that’s fine. I could use a trim.” My hair fell a little below my shoulders. Probably not the best look for the CEO of Wolfe Enterprises, according to my esteemed brother.
Not that I gave a shit, but at least it would get rid of my mother.
Connie Wolfe rose, turned abruptly, and then looked over her shoulder at me. “This isn’t over, Rock.”
“It is for now.”
She harrumphed and left my office.
My office.
Still couldn’t quite wrap my head around that one.
The two assistants—one female and one male—busied themselves setting tarps down and then setting up what appeared to be a foldable barber’s chair. The man flipped open a tape measure and got a little too close as he measured me from my waist to the top of my head.
I eyeballed him.
“He needs to make sure the chair is at the right height for me,” Sergio explained.
“Great.” I rolled my eyes.
“Take off your jacket and shirt, please,” Sergio said.
I removed my jacket.
“And the shirt.”
“Why?”
“You don’t want to risk getting any product on your expensive clothes, do you?”
That made sense. I guessed.
I removed my shirt, and both of the assistants sucked in a breath.
“You’re not wearing an undershirt?” Sergio said.
“Do I look like I’m wearing an undershirt?”
“Have a seat.”
I sat in the chair, which was oddly comfortable. The male assistant held a portable sink under my head as the woman shampooed my hair. Sergio was apparently setting up his little shop.
“Hey look,” I said, my eyes closed as water splashed over my head. “I’m happy to come to your shop. This seems like a lot of trouble, you bringing everything here.”
“No problem at all. I’m well compensated.”
I’m sure you are.
Seeing my black curls on the plastic curtain at my feet saddened me a little. No more pulling the hair back in a tie for riding my Harley.
Where was my Harley, anyway? Back in Montana. I’d get Jarrod or someone to have it shipped out right away. That was one thing I wasn’t doing without. Not in a million years.
Speaking of Jarrod, he walked in. “Sorry, Mr. Wolfe. Your brother’s on the phone. Says it’s urgent.”
28
Lacey
Brent’s hands had been cast by God. No other explanation. He kneaded my muscles just firmly enough so that I felt it but it didn’t hurt.