Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 108846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Sorry, Belinda, the bus is racing forward and all my extremities are hanging out the window, waiting for you to cut them off.
Sloane’s expression hasn’t softened with my assurances.
Ryan squirms in her seat, visibly uncomfortable with her gaffe. “For what it’s worth, Ronan doesn’t mess around when he’s with someone. Believe me, I know.” She reaches out to squeeze my hand in hers. “When we were together, he didn’t bring anyone home from the bar. Not once.”
I groan. Not helping.
Sloane’s jaw drops. “You slept with her too? With Connor’s sister?”
“Half sister,” Ryan corrects. “And it was only for, like, a week two summers ago, when we were all living together. My ex had just broken up with me and I was feeling so sorry for myself.”
A mixture of shock and horror twists Sloane’s features.
Can I put my hand over Ryan’s mouth to muzzle her? Would that be wrong?
“Before they took off to Alaska. Oh, ice cream!” Ryan suddenly blurts as a dinghy with a tall pink flag weaves through the boats, heading our way. “They take cash, right?” She digs into her beach bag for her wallet with one hand while the other waves wildly in the air, trying to grab the vendor’s eye.
Sloane leans over the counter. “So, tell me, is there any female in your life who you haven’t screwed?”
“A few.” But the list is woefully short, and her icy tone says she’ll find no humor in it.
“Can I get a vanilla, please!” Ryan hollers, sliding off her seat.
I hop down after her and grip her shoulder to make sure the drunken fool doesn’t tumble off the platform.
“Vanilla, you said?” The vendor roots around in his cooler, shirtless and tanned. Next to the pink flag is a yellow one for boiled peanuts. Quite the combo.
Golden Boy, a.k.a. Jeremy, at the next boat over, shouts, “Hey! How’s it goin’?”
The vendor sees him, and waves. “Oh, hey, Jer. It’s all right.” Retrieving an ice cream bar, he turns and faces us.
Recognition hits me a beat before a glower settles across his face.
“Cody?” Sloane’s voice is filled with incredulity. “What are you doing here?”
He nods at Ryan, swapping cash for her treat, finishing the transaction, before turning his displeasure back to Sloane. “What does it look like I’m doin’?”
Sloane exits through the swinging door and comes around to stand on the edge. “You work for Sanders now?”
“Well, yeah. It’s all I could get after you torpedoed my job at Wolf.” Cody’s gaze drags over her body, even as he spews accusations.
You could have had that for life. You royally fucked up, buddy, I want to say.
“What are you talking about?” Sloane’s eyes dart to me. “I didn’t get a call from them for a reference for you.”
“I didn’t put the Sea Witch on my résumé. I’m not stupid.”
“We’ll agree to disagree there.” She folds her arms across her chest. “So then why are you accusing me?”
“Because I have contacts at Wolf.”
“No, you don’t,” she scoffs.
“Yeah, I do. In HR. And they told me that my name was on the hiring list until it was crossed off by a director.”
Fuck. Who has this weasel been talking to inside Wolf?
Ryan’s knowing eyes land on me. Her mouth opens—
“Better eat that before it melts.” I shove the ice cream bar into her waiting lips and flash her a warning glare to shut the hell up. Seriously, drunk unfiltered Ryan is worse than Connor. Clearly a hazardous gene their shared father passed along.
“So? How does that relate back to me?” Sloane wears an incredulous mask, but I can sense the panic swelling underneath. On the tiki float beside us, Jeremy listens quietly.
Cody’s smug smile tells me he’s not finished yet. “Because I asked if there were other names that made it to the list and were also crossed off, and you know who was on there? Will, Mick, Ron, Brock …” He counts down on his fingers. “All Sea Witch employees. Weird, huh?”
Sloane’s throat bobs with a hard swallow. “I didn’t get reference calls for any of them. If I had, I would have said they’re great workers.”
“She said they didn’t even make it to reference checks.”
She. That narrows it down for me tomorrow. My anger boils. “You’re a regular fucking detective.”
Cody spares me a dirty look before he turns to Jeremy. “You were on the list too, with a note saying you can only work two days a week.”
“What?” Jeremy’s face screws up.
“Yeah, the only one on there with a note like that. Ja—my contact”—he catches himself before he divulges her name—“said seasonal hires have to be available for full-time hours. It’s a hiring requirement. And hey, what do you know! Jeremy works for the Sea Witch!” Cody laughs, a fake, maniacal sound, as he reaches for the motor throttle.
Sloane’s face has paled. She’s run out of deflections to throw at him.