Page 102 of Breakout
“But the tips were amazing,” Sami singsongs.
She’s not wrong. The tips tonight so far are enough to make the aching back and feet worth it. I can only hope that the next few hours don’t die down.
“How are you so peppy right now?” Charlotte asks her.
“That probably has something to do with the energy drink I saw her shot gunning thirty minutes ago,” I say.
“You girls ready?” Larry asks.
“Yes,” we say in unison.
We all slip out the back door, and Larry watches as we head to our cars. While the parking lot is well lit, it’s better to be safe than sorry.
“See you girls later.” I wave as I step up to my car to take my break.
“Bye!” they yell back.
“Peyton Anderson?” a voice calls out, making me tense.
I turn and see an older man, wearing a suit and tie, step out of the shadows. As soon as the light hits his face, I know who he is. He’s an older version of my husband.
I already knew his gene pool had to be fantastic based on his looks, but if his dad is anything to go by, he’s going to age like a fine wine.
Lucky bastard.
“Yes?”
“I was wondering if I could have a moment of your time,” he says as he steps closer.
Nothing about the fact that my father-in-law cornering me late at night in a darkish parking lot feels safe, but somehow, I know he wants me to run off and hide.
I’ve never been very good at doing what others want.
“You okay, Peyton?” Larry calls out, his voice full of concern.
I don’t take my eyes off the man in front of me. “I’m good, Larry.” I take a deep breath and confront the man in front of me. “Is there something I can help you with, Mr. Hayes?”
He smiles wickedly. “So you know who I am.”
“Hard not to when your son looks just like you.”
He hums as he places his hands in his pockets. “So you’re the one who convinced my son that marriage was a good idea.”
As soon as the words leave his mouth, I know that he didn’t learn of our marriage from Beckett. My husband would be the first to admit that he convinced me, not the other way around.
“Beckett and I are married, yes.” My heart races, beating so fast it feels like it’s about to come out of my chest.
He stares me up and down as he shakes his head in disappointment. “You are not what I would have picked for my son.”
“Well, sir, we often want different things for our children than what they want for themselves. That doesn’t mean we will get them.”
“How much?” he asks, catching me off guard.
“Excuse me?”
“How much would it cost to make you disappear? Ten thousand? Twenty? The most I’ll pay is twenty-five.”
“Are you serious right now?” I laugh, shaking my head.
