Page 19 of Late to Love

I narrow my eyes at him. He gets it without me having to say more, and in seconds he’s hustling to set the shoes down and is back in front of the bar.

“What’s up?”

“There’s an entire store full of customers. You don’t need to spend twenty minutes with just one.”

Harrison grins mischievously. “You got something against Darcy, boss? Or justmewith Darcy?”

I growl at him. There’s nothing more to do.

And after I’ve refilled a couple of drinks for the women at the end of the bar, I whip my phone out and send a text.

He’s not good enough for you

DARCY

Who’s this?

You know who this is

DARCY

Ooh is Daddy mad?

I growl and shove my phone in my pocket. I have no business being in her business, and she definitely just reminded me of that. If she wants to let a boy flirt with her, then fine.

Chapter9

Darcy

I’M EXHAUSTED. I’VE been busting my hump at Anthony’s place, helping my dad at the hardware store a couple nights a week, and working on the surprise piece for Anthony’s loft in the bit of spare time I have left. I’m bone-tired and need a day off. So even though it’s a random Tuesday, I’m taking it. I live by the beach and haven’t set foot on it since Anthony came and ruined my peace a few weeks ago.

Amanda answers my FaceTime almost immediately. “What’s up, cutie?”

“Call off work today.”

Her face lights up. “Are we playing hooky? Where are we going?”

“The beach. I’m pasty white and we need to remedy that, stat.”

“I’m in.”

“Perfect. See you soon. I’m gonna run by the shop and the Piggly Wiggly before I come get you.”

“I’ll be ready.”

We click off and I throw on a two-piece and grab my beach bag, already thinking of the snacks and sandwiches I’ll pick up at the deli before grabbing Amanda.

But first: Dad.

His eyes widen when he sees me a little later, sunglasses propped on top of a messy bun and a raggedy T-shirt draped over my favorite pair of cut-off shorts. “What’s wrong?”

I tilt my head. “What do you mean?”

“Did Anthony fire you? He’s not called at all to complain, which I figured he would have done by now.” His expression falls. “He did, didn’t he? I’m so sorry.”

I bristle. “Are you kidding me, Dad? Why would I have gotten fired when I’m doing an incredible job?” And I mean it, too: I’m kicking ass. I refuse to second-guess my talent. Life is too short, and I’ve had enough of that crap to last me a lifetime.

Dad’s mouth opens and closes like a fish. “Well…then…what’s all this about?” He waves his hand at my outfit.

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