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Thrive (Addicted #2.5) Page 5
Author: Krista Ritchie

“Maybe I’m not planning on taking any meetings,” I retort. “Therefore, I don’t need a waiting room.”

“Sometimes I wonder if one of my f**king nannies dropped you on your head when you were a kid,” he says.

My childhood “nannies” that he claims he’s banged. All ten of them. “No,” I say, “I’m just this way because of you, Dad.” I flash a bitter smile that my father matches quickly.

“I came here to discuss your business.” He drags a chair from the wall over to my desk, positioning it in front of me.

I go rigid, and my eyes flicker to Lily who’s hiding right below. Her eyes bug, and she holds her legs to her chest. She mouths, he’s right there?

I don’t affirm her suspicions because it’ll freak her out more. Instead I watch my dad pick up a plastic X-Men action figure that sits beside an array of other characters. I could laugh at this moment, especially as he moves Sunspot’s arm, but his curiosity is layered with a dark frown and narrowed eyes. I sense the biting disapproval even before he speaks.

“You’re a little old for this shit, don’t you think?” Surprisingly, he sets Sunspot back where he found him.

“I run a comic book business,” I remind him. “I like this shit.”

“That doesn’t mean your office should look like an eleven-year-old’s bedroom.” He shakes his head at the rest of the superhero paraphernalia. “Your new assistant can redecorate for you.”

“I don’t have the energy to deal with an assistant,” I refute. I can’t handle interlopers. I’d shred them apart. According to Brian, my therapist, I drive people away before they have the chance to hurt me.

If I think about how many lies I’ve been fed in my life and the abandonment of two moms, I start believing he’s right. I have trust issues. But I accepted Connor, a complete stranger. I welcomed a half-brother who had lied outright to me.

Isn’t that enough?

Why do I need to add more people into my f**king circle?

“Is that it?” I ask my dad. “Because you’re irritating me, if you haven’t noticed.”

Lily shifts uneasily and tugs my pants. She wants me to calm down. I’m not going to go drink after this. I may throw something at my dad on the way out, like a pen. Or at least imagine it. But I won’t drink.

“The assistant is at the bottom of the list,” he says, his breath smelling of bourbon. “What about this store downstairs?”

Shit. “Superheroes & Scones,” I clarify. “Lily’s running it.”

“And I’m financing it,” he reminds me. “When is it opening?” His gaze drifts to the pile of papers on my desk. He grabs the nearest manuscript, toppling over a mug that’s branded with the Halway Comics logo. I lean forward and put it back.

My father’s face literally hardens to f**king stone the longer he flips through the comic book.

My head spins, trying to think five steps ahead of where he’s at. But this is a chess game that I’ll always lose. “Lily wants to take things slow, so we’ll probably open it after she graduates.” Which could be in a few more years.

And I like that she can hang out downstairs without crowds. I’m afraid that once we open the store, it’ll be too crazy for her. Like how it’s been at Lucky’s. Only worse.

Because it’s ours.

My dad scoffs and tosses the comic back on the table. “That’s a terrible f**king business plan. You’re in the press now. You need to capitalize on the exposure as quickly as you can.”

“She’s a sex addict. It’s not going to be good exposure,” I say, frustrated. I glance down at Lily, who no longer tugs on my jeans. She stares faraway at the carpet, her neck red like anxiety is creeping in.

I’m about to tell my dad to get out, but his brutal glare silences me. “Loren.” He says my name like I’m a complete f**king moron. “When you’re making something out of nothing, bad press is good press. But when you’ve already established a reputation, bad press can kill you.” He points at me. “You have nothing right now. Bad press is what you need. Use it. Don’t be stupid.”

I just don’t want Lily to feel like she lost out on something else because of the media. We didn’t expect the attention to last for this long and to just keep on escalating. At this point, I don’t think it’ll ever die down. There’s just too much interest in my relationship with her and my half-brother.

It’s like a tabloid’s wet dream.

“I need more time,” I tell him, trying to find a f**king excuse. “It’s not ready yet. We still have inventory that needs to arrive—”

“I was just down there. If it’s not already stocked, then you’re overstocked.” He stands up. “It opens by the end of this month, and if you don’t set a date then I’ll put an ad in the paper myself, and you’ll just have to f**king deal with the line outside this building.”

I grip the edge of the table, my teeth aching as I shut my mouth. You’re okay. It’s a dumb pep talk considering all I want to do is explode…and yeah, a bottle of Jameson sounds great.

He stops by the door to adjust his tie. “Also, word of advice. If you want to have blow jobs in your office, you really do need an assistant.”

What the f**k?

My face falls.

My dad looks at the desk like he can see right through it. He can’t. “Lily, try not to breathe so heavily next time. You give yourself away.” With that, he saunters out of my office and out of f**king sight.

Just like my dad to have an exit as dramatic as his entrance.

“Oh my God,” Lily says with wide eyes, not crawling out yet. I look down at her splotchy red face. She’s way more embarrassed than me.

“Don’t worry about it,” I tell her. “We’ve both seen him come home after a one-night stand before.” If a woman wasn’t leaving with smudged makeup in the morning, then he was coming inside the house at 10 a.m.—fully clothed in his suit from the previous night.

No shame.

Ever.

My father doesn’t work that late unless he’s getting laid.

She doesn’t say anything.

I roll my chair back and dip my head down to meet her gaze. “Come out.”

She’s immobile. I think I may have to pull her out. Which, oddly, wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to retrieve my girlfriend from under a desk.

I go to raise my jeans up to my waist, and this stirs her from her hiding place. “No, I’ll finish you,” she tells me, crawling towards my lap.

My stomach suddenly sinks. I know I have to reject her. She’s too anxious—and sex shouldn’t be used to demolish those hard-hitting feelings. She has to deal. When she places her palms on my knees, I say, “No, not this time, Lil.” I scoop her hands and tuck them back to her chest. Then I pull up my jeans, zipped and buttoned to solidify my choice.

Still on her knees, her shoulders sag. She looks lost. I lift her onto my lap, and she places a leg on either side of the chair, straddling me. Christ. I don’t want to keep rejecting her, but I also selfishly don’t want to move my girlfriend.

Instead of bringing up sex, she surprisingly veers into another direction. “About Superheroes & Scones…” she trails off, not able to find the words. She places her hand on my chest, no happier than she was on the ground.

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Krista Ritchie's Novels
» Fuel the Fire (Calloway Sisters #3)
» Hothouse Flower (Calloway Sisters #2)
» Addicted After All (Addicted #3)
» Thrive (Addicted #2.5)
» Amour Amour
» Kiss the Sky
» Addicted to You (Addicted #1)
» Ricochet (Addicted #1.5)
» Addicted for Now (Addicted #2)