“No shit?” Brock continued as he glanced at Bull. He felt like his teeth might shatter at the force with which he was clenching his jaw.
They silenced as she approached them. “Come on, last chance. Sugary, bleached flour perfection going once, going twice...” Her voice was soft and teasing as she smiled at the kid beside her. The kid was a fuckin’ imprint of the woman. Same golden hair, same doe eyes, ‘cept she had a small sprinkling of freckles where the woman had none. Her mother was wearing a fuckin’ sex kitten outfit; kid was clad in some hippie, rock star gear. They were the same, but different. Kid was going to be a fuckin’ knockout like her mom. He pulled his attention back to the exchange.
She stared at her mother in a way that made Bull think this had happened before. The teasing tone of the woman made him sure of it.
“Your loss. Although how you are going to sit through classes like math and English Lit without a sugar high is beyond me.” She shrugged her shoulders and he swore he heard a low chuckle from behind him. Bull struggled against the feeling he normally only felt with Gwen. That little feeling of warmth, of sunshine lighting up the darkness. They were almost out the door and the kid shook some fancy water bottle. “Don’t worry, this is vodka,” the kid said seriously.
Bull felt himself want to smile. Kid was funny.
He had started his day with the same grim determination that he had every day. To make it through. To fight the demons. Keep the club healthy. Rinse, repeat. He hadn’t expected this shit. He hadn’t expected to be blown off his fuckin’ feet by some bitch who threatened his entire existence. Some bitch he didn’t even know.
“Thank goddess. You are my daughter.” Her playful voice carried as the door shut behind them.
Yeah, he didn’t expect some bitch to make his cock twitch, make his demons quiet and make him laugh all at once.
I sat in my car staring at the building in front of me. It was a beautiful wooden building, pure white with blue shuttered windows. The arch leading into the hotel was intricate and welcoming. The wrought iron sign that read ”The Cottage” was ironic, considering this seaside mansion was a little more than a cottage. This place was a successful, busy and hugely well-known hotel and spa. It was regularly featured in travel magazines and even had the odd celebrity come for a detox or escape from the circus that was Hollywood. And I was in charge of whether it ran successfully or not. Well, I wasn’t technically ”in charge” yet. I was “in charge” when I got out of my car and walked underneath that arch and into the place. Which was why I was sitting in my car. That and I was trying to banish the dark eyes and haunted scowl that was burned into my memory.
I jumped slightly as my phone rang. I clung to another reason to delay the weight of responsibility that would come when I entered the doors I was staring at.
“Hello, Mia Spencer speaking.” I greeted the blocked number professionally, just in case it was like, the president or something. It could happen.
“You’re sitting in your car right now too scared to go in, aren’t you?” a familiar voice greeted.
I sat up straighter as if he could see me. “No, I am doing nothing of the sort, I’m about to walk in the doors right now,” I lied.
“Bullshit,” the voice said. “You’re sitting in the car because you’re scared of walking through those doors. Let me tell you now, there’s nothing to be scared of. You’re going to do great. That place is going to blossom under your management. I know that. I believe in you,” the voice told me firmly.
I sank back into my seat. “You think so?” I asked weakly.
“I know so. I wouldn’t have hired you otherwise. I like money. And I have a feeling you’re going to make me a shit ton of it,” he said lightly.
I smirked. “I should have asked for a bigger salary then.”
“You make me half as much as I think you will, I’ll give it to you and a holiday to the Caribbean,” Steve promised.
“You should know Lexie and I only fly private,” I replied with a fake haughty tone. It was ironic, considering Lexie and I had never left the country. Being a struggling single mom, I couldn’t exactly afford vacations in Europe.