Page 36 of Sugar Coated Lies
I sitat my desk with Easton across from me. For the last fifteen minutes, I’ve been trying to convince him to return to college, to no avail.
“How about one online class then?" I suggest. "You can stay here and still work at the farm and live at the estate. Life won’t change, but you’ll still be working toward a degree and an elevated position here.”
“You know I don’t care about that.” He slides lower on the chair and rests his ankle on his knee, like he can’t even be bothered to sit up straight.
“What do you care about then?”
He sighs and stares over my shoulder out the windows. “You’ve always put duty first before your social life. It’s why you have never had a long-lasting relationship.”
I don’t bother to say I’ve had to. As the first-born son, I’ve been told that since childhood. “Your point?”
“I want to explore more than sitting behind a desk like you.”
My shoulders tense with frustration. “What makes you think you can’t do both?”
“You.” He gestures to me with a flip of his wrist. “It’s obvious working here at a higher level means no social life or free time.”
“I have a social life,” I defend, surprised by how bothered I am by his response. “In Atlanta, I go out all the time. There’s nothing to do here or I would. It’s not work that keeps me from dating. No one around here appeals to me. And if I met someone who did, I would date her. I date in Atlanta.” I realize I’m sitting forward and relax into my seat.
“That’s my point. You don’t have time for more. I don’t want that, but you are right about one thing: it's slim pickings around here. Maybe I need to visit you in Atlanta regularly.”
“And leave my place a mess like you do your room at the house?” I shake my head.
“I’ll clean up after myself.
“We’re getting off topic.”
“What about Everleigh?”
My entire body tightens. “I told you she’s off limits. She’s an employee, a good one at that, and I don’t want anything ruining this opportunity for her.”
“She so damn sweet.” He chuckles, like he’s recalling a special moment they shared, which makes my fingers curl into fists. “She cares for a sick grandad. Did you know that?”
“Yes. I know.”
“That’s the kind of girl you marry.”
I sit forward and straighten my spine, making myself taller in the chair. “Easton, I swear if you—”
The door to my office swings open and Tennie walks in wearing cut-off jean shorts, a cropped top that barely covers her boobs, and cowboy boots. “Hey, boys!” She saunters to the empty chair next to Easton and sits. “It’s a hot one today.”
I would say that explains the outfit, but I don’t think that’s it.
“Easton and I are having a meeting,” I say, feeling like a babysitter. This is also why I like working remotely from Atlanta.
“The door wasn’t closed.”
“It wasn’t open,” I state
“It was cracked.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose and sigh. “What do you want, Tennie?”
“That new girl is a gold digger. It’s obvious her goal is to nab one of the Livingston brothers.”
Easton snorts. “Funny. She keeps turning me down. Not a very good gold digger, if you ask me.”
“Stop asking her out.” I slam my fists on the desktop, rattling the pen, lamp, and laptop.
