No.
He’s just being a stubborn idiot.
“Of course,” she clips out. “If you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”
I gather up my things and am heading out when my phone buzzes with a text from Winston.
Win: Wait for me at my place tonight.
Me: I might be busy.
Win: Don’t fish for attention. I promise to shower you with attention and come later.
He can be so gross, and yet I still smile like a lovestruck idiot.
Me: On a scale of one to ten, how much does your mother hate me?
Win: It doesn’t matter how she feels, Ash.
His words are serious and kind of sweet. Because we need levity, I send him a bunch of heart eye emojis that earn me several middle fingers.
We’re okay.
Whatever she said to him or says to him will glance off him, not affecting things—us. I’m relieved because though this is a big game with a lot of money involved between the two of us, it’s a game I’m not done playing. A game I’ve become incredibly invested in. A game where I want us both to win.
“When’s Daddy coming home?” I ask Shrimp, running my finger along the top of his pink head. “We’re bored, huh?”
Shrimp sings and flutters his wings. Cutest little bird ever. I sigh, glancing at the time on my phone. I’ve been waiting at Winston’s place for a couple of hours, and he’s still not here.
Someone knocks on the door, startling Shrimp. He flies up to the artsy light fixture in the living room, chirping at me as though I scared him on purpose. I laugh as I stand and make my way over to the door. Just as I peek through the hole, I see Nate on the other side pulling out his keys to unlock it. I pull it open and give him a bitchy smile.
“He’s not here. Sorry.”
He rolls his eyes, walking into the condo anyway. “I can wait.”
Sighing heavily, not even bothering to be polite, I shut the door and follow him. Just like last time, he makes himself at home, pouring himself a drink. But rather than letting him be, I walk over to him, crossing my arms and glaring at him.
“If you’re trying to intimidate me, it won’t work,” I spit out.
Shrimp flaps his wings but otherwise remains quiet. He doesn’t like when I get upset.
“I’m not trying to do anything,” Nate grumbles and then drains his liquor in one gulp. “I’m waiting for Winston to discuss some business with him.”
“Then you’ll have to deal with me for a while. I’m not sure when he’s returning.”
He meets my stare with narrowed eyes before setting down the empty glass on a small table. “I’ll deal with you then.” His nostrils flare and then he gestures upstairs with a lift of his chin. “Need to take a piss. Maybe you should pour us both a drink.”
Ignoring him, I suck in a calming breath as soon as he’s disappeared up the stairs. Shrimp chirps at me but won’t come back down. “I know, I know. He’s an asshole,” I tell my bird who’s a great judge of character. “But he’s Winston’s best friend.”
A short while later, he returns and helps himself to another drink. I scroll through my phone, pretending as though I have a life and am sucked into social media. In reality, I watch Nate from the corner of my eye as he watches me.
“When are you going to realize you’re just a toy for Winston?” he asks, sipping his liquor. “All rich boys grow tired of their toys eventually. Hell, based on the fact he’s elsewhere and you’re here, entertaining me, I’d say maybe it’s already happened, but you’re just too naïve to see it.”
I flip him off, not rewarding him with an answer. He chuckles and then calls to my bird—here, birdie birdie—like he’s a puppy. Shrimp flaps his wings hard, the equivalent of a birdie fuck you. I bite back a smirk. Nate looks at his watch and then downs the rest of his drink.
“As much as I’d love to spend all night waiting on Winston, I have a date to get to.” He sets his glass down and walks past me. “I’d say see you soon, but I’m not sure that’ll be the case. Hell, I may never see you again. I’m sure you were fun while it lasted.” He pauses to shoot me a triumphant grin. “Perhaps you should ask him how lunch went with Layla yesterday. I heard Caroline was hoping he’d ask her out. You know, since she’s not a poor, money-hungry maid and comes with her own fortune.”
Layla?
Lunch?
I keep my features cool, but hurt slashes at my heart, quick and gutting. Winston never mentioned lunch with anyone.
Why would he?
He’s not your boyfriend. He’s only been trying to tell you this since day one, idiot.