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“Is that why you think I did it? I couldn’t give a flying fuck what those geriatric assholes think. In fact, I hope they’re all imagining me fucking dudes all day every day and twice on Sunday, while secretly getting their hypocritical rocks off.” The image made me grin.
“Let’s be clear, I had you fired because I could, and because, like I told you, I’ll destroy you if I need to in order to protect my own interests. I had you fired to show you exactly who’s calling the shots in this little game of cat and mouse we have going on. Spoiler alert—in case you hadn’t worked it out. It’s me.”
“Okay, I get it. People like me can never beat people like you. But you know what? I’d rather die trying than roll over, and play dead, and just remember how that shit worked out for David and Goliath. I have my slingshot, and I’m going to keep throwing stones until one of them hits you where it hurts, and brings you crashing to your knees.”
“I wouldn’t hold your breath if I were you.”
“Whatever. In the meantime, stop following me, I’m tired of seeing you everywhere I go.”
“Now look who has an over-inflated ego. For your information, my being here has nothing to do with you, and everything to do with meeting my grandfather for lunch.”
“He’s not here on Tuesdays, Wednesday and Fridays.”
“Not with you, he’s not, but I asked him to meet me for a round and something to eat. He should be here any moment now.”
“And you expect me to believe that this is just a coincidence—you meeting Ernie here on the same day as I’m being marched from the building. You must think I fell out of the coconut tree yesterday, and banged my head when I landed.”
“I honestly don’t care what you believe, apart from that you need to be dressed and ready at seven o’clock tonight.”
“Nope. I’m not at Rollergirl tonight. Not that it’s any of your business, anyway—you definitely can’t get me fired from there.”
“Who said anything about work? We’re having dinner.”
She burst out laughing which quickly morphed into hysteria, and then into a choking fit, which saw her doubled over, gasping for breath. Just as I was thinking I might have to perform CPR, she straightened up, tears streaming down her face.
“Over my dead body.”
“That can definitely be arranged, though necrophilia was never really my bag.”
“Stay away from me. Alive or dead.”
“Not gonna happen. At least not until I get what I want. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go whoop an old man’s butt at golf.”
I spun on my heel, and strolled toward the club building, but shot her one more look over my shoulder, then threw her a quick wink and a two-fingered salute before I headed off. I didn’t bother to watch the hand gesture I was sure she’d made in return.
* * *
“So what’s all this I hear about you getting young Kevin fired?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I don’t give a fuck what you want to talk about, you little turd.” He’d been frosty with me throughout the round—which only made me more determined to thrash him, and I did, thoroughly—so I was expecting the inquisition at some point. Why he’d chosen to leave it until we were within earshot of other diners, and trying to enjoy a seafood platter, I wasn’t quite sure. “If I want you to talk, you talk. Now, I thought you said you weren’t gay.”
“And I’m not.”
“So what in the hell is going on between the two of you?”
“Nothing.” And definitely nothing I want talk about with you.
“You realize that you’ve made life difficult for me as well, with this stunt, don’t you?”
I stopped with an oyster midway to my mouth.
“Well, assuming he’s not banned for life, Kevin’s hardly going to want to step foot in here with me anymore, is he? As if it’s not bad enough that he’s been dismissed, you want him to eat humble pie twice a week in front of the very people who fired him? So where does that leave me?” I had to admit, that though it was unlike me, I’d overlooked that outcome when I’d planned my move. It was testament to how much Kik was getting to me. I couldn’t even fucking think straight.
“I’ve been coming here for more than sixty years. Am I supposed to just stop? Or join another club at my age? So if he can’t or won’t come here, what are the options? You’ve essentially cost him both jobs.”
I may not actually have planned that aspect of the situation, but I couldn’t help but smirk at the added good fortune. The more desperate she was, the easier it would be to get her to walk away from her vendetta against my father and Cavanagh Corp, and therefore, the easier it would be for me to protect Mom and Grampsie. If it meant Grampsie thought I was cut from the same cloth as my father as a result, I was going to have to live with that—it was better than the alternative.
