Page 48 of Wild King

Assuming she’s willing to talk to me.

When I catch up to her, she’s setting out plates and silverware for our meal. Placing the boxes down on the stove, I joke, “You aren’t one of those people who eats pizza with a fork and knife, are you? I’m not sure we can ever speak again if you are.”

She glances over at me and I see her eyes are narrowed to angry slits. So much for changing the mood.

“We don’t have to speak if you don’t want to, but yes, I use a fork and knife when it’s too hot so I don’t burn my mouth,” she says sharply.

I’m already striking out here, so I need to come up with some way of making her not hate me. The story about Ronan and pizza will definitely help me do that.

“My youngest brother, the one who was wearing the black T-shirt the other night at the house, always insisted on taking a bite of his pizza when it was still way too hot, and then he’d end up spitting it out halfway across the room.”

“Sounds delightful,” Salem says with a look of pure disgust. “By the way, Nathan said he didn’t want any pizza, but he might grab a slice later.”

So much for charming her with a story from my childhood. People always love that Ronan and the hot cheese story. Maybe I should have gone more in depth with it.

“He’d clean it up. It’s not like we were total barbarians growing up,” I add.

Salem levels her gaze on my face and stares at me for a few seconds before saying, “You grew up in a mansion. I’m sure someone was there to pick up all your messes. That’s what servants do for billionaires.”

I lift out two slices of sausage and pepper pizza and set them on a plate. Handing it to her, I correct her error about my life growing up. “They weren’t servants. That’s not what life was like.”

She takes the plate without even a thank you and groans. “That’s, of course, what a billionaire would say. You had people working for you who were charged with cleaning up after you. That’s a servant.”

I’m quickly losing my appetite and know I should end this conversation, but nothing bothers me more than hypocrisy. I don’t know what this sudden intense dislike for wealth is, but I’m not going to be shamed for who I am.

What I’ve done in my life is one thing, and I understand a lot of my behavior isn’t justifiable, but who I am isn’t something I’ll shy away from defending.

I take a couple pieces of sausage pizza for myself and drop the plate down in front of where I plan to sit. That gets her attention, and she jerks her head up to glare at me.

She wants to have it out on this topic? So be it.

“Yes, there were people who worked for my family. Quite a few, in fact. One who’s worked the longest for us is Eleanor, and while she did help my mother with the cooking and the cleaning, she was never considered a fucking servant. She was a member of the family and still is, as evidenced by the fact that she stilllives at the house now that it’s only Matthias and Ava there. I don’t know why you suddenly have an issue with what my family’s net worth is, but I notice you didn’t have an issue with any of that at the resort.”

Salem’s mouth drops open and then she looks down at her plate. When she doesn’t say anything for nearly a minute, I add, “Don’t like having your beliefs and who you are attacked, huh?”

She turns her head and stares at me for a long moment before replying. “I wasn’t trying to attack anything about you. You’re right, though. I had no problem enjoying the benefits of your money back there. I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m sorry.”

“You’re forgiven. Now let’s enjoy our dinner before the pizza gets cold. I notice the sausage looks extra crumbly.”

That finally brings a smile to her face, and I swear it makes the whole room light up. “Did you tell them to make it extra crumbly? If so, thank you.”

I laugh and shake my head. “I wish I could take credit for that, but I didn’t know sausage could be extra crumbly, so I didn’t realize I could ask for it that way.”

“Well, it looks great. I hope it tastes as good as it looks because I’m starving.”

I take a bite and savor the warm tomato sauce and cheese on the best crust in the world. It’s like being transported back in time to when life was easy and happy.

“It tastes as good as it did when I was a kid. You can have all the pizza in the city. Sal’s is the only one for me.”

She begins to eat hers and smiles. “This is really good.”

“Damn straight it is. We had some good things out here in the hinterlands. I mean, other than being waited on hand and foot in our huge mansion.”

Salem’s smile fades, replaced by a frown at my jab. “I’m sorry, Kellen. I shouldn’t have said those things.”

“You’re forgiven. You know, having money doesn’t make people bad. My brothers are good guys. You like them. I’m a bastard, but it has nothing to do with being wealthy. I’m just a shitty person.”

She drops her pizza onto her plate and shakes her head. “No, you’re not, and I know you know that too. I get it. I was being a jerk.”

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