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“She is worth much, much more.”
My phone pinged with a notification, and I fished it out of my pocket. Tate grabbed a knife from the holder, but instead of hurling it at the target, he whipped around quickly and threw it at me. I caught the knife by the handle without lifting my eyes from my phone, still reading the weather forecast.
“Good instincts.” He whistled low.
I looked up nonchalantly. “You missed.”
He gave me a pitiful smile. “No, Casablancas, I spared. I won’t be so charitable next time. Sign the fucking contract.”
I advanced toward him, suddenly feeling trigger-happy. This man could’ve cut my throat half a second ago. I wasn’t one to respond well to threats, even from people who were used to getting their way. Tate didn’t cower, just watched me with lazy amusement as I wrapped my fingers around his neck and slammed his back against the wall. The two flight attendants gasped and rushed toward us, but Tate held up a hand to them. “Sit back. This is finally getting interesting.”
I pushed my face into his. “Let’s make one thing clear. Whether I sign this contract or not, this is the first and last time you threaten me. Next time that happens, you’ll be enjoying a skydiving session sans the parachute.”
He smirked. “Proud of you, son. You’re no pushover.”
Son? I was maybe two years younger than this fucker.
“Keeley?” I asked, still staring at him with my hand on his throat.
“Y—yes?”
“I’m ready for my drink now.”
ROW
oBITCHuary: This is a message for McMonster, not Row.
McMonster: Okay.
oBITCHuary: I have a problem.
McMonster: Just the one?
McMonster: Jk.
McMonster: What’s the problem?
oBITCHuary: Boy problem. There’s a guy who kissed me and left town without a word. I’m extremely annoyed about this. What should I do?
McMonster: How was the kiss?
oBITCHuary: Eleven out of ten.
McMonster: Liar.
McMonster: It was at least a twenty.
oBITCHuary: Can you stick to the point?
McMonster: You’re mad because you’re interested. He’ll be back soon.
oBITCHuary: Not interested in seeing him again after the way he went off the radar so suddenly.
McMonster: You’ll forgive him.
oBITCHuary: How do you know?
McMonster: Because he’s willing to grovel.
