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He had greasy hair, an unkempt beard, and a scar down his left cheek. “You owe me a fucking coffee.” He swiped at the drops still clinging to his chest and arm.
The sea of people walking toward the subway entrance parted around us like water flowing around rocks.
I picked up my phone, unzipped my purse, and stowed it safely away. I could wipe it off later. “Sorry,” I repeated as I pulled my wallet out. “I got something in my eye,” I lied as I pulled out a twenty.
“You asshole rich bitches always have a fucking excuse. You think because you’re pretty everybody should give you everything. You’re not special, bitch.”
I held out the bill.
He pocketed the money and held out the stained sleeve. “And you ruined my fuckin’ coat. I need money to buy a new one.”
That’s when I noticed multiple coffee stains, including one on the opposite sleeve. I wasn’t having any more of this shit. “That should cover the coffee and the cleaning. Buy your own fucking coat, if you want a new one.” I re-zipped my purse and backed away a step, ready to kick and send his balls all the way to Cleveland if he came at me.
“You fucking rich bitches are all alike,” he spat, but he didn’t move forward. “Life handed to you on a fucking silver platter and no understanding of what it’s like for the rest of us.”
I matched his tone and outdid him in volume. “I’ve never asked for any help, or taken any. I’ve worked for everything I have, so fuck off.” My heart raced as I turned and joined the human river flowing to the subway station.
Onboard the train, I finally relaxed when the doors closed and it started moving. He hadn’t followed me. Before Columbia, I would have given in to the emotional blackmail and handed over whatever he asked. But since then, I’d proved I could accomplish anything I set my mind to. My family and I had fallen from the top of the pile to the very bottom, but I’d pulled myself up and gotten where I was by my own hard work. I didn’t have to take shit from anyone about where I was now.
I rummaged through my purse to find the phone and listen to Evan’s voicemail one more time before deleting the message. I’d promised Dad I’d stay away from the McAllisters, all of them. There was no reason to tell him about today—it had been an accident anyway.
A crack ran all the way across my phone screen.Damn that guy with the coffee. It had to have happened when he ran into me. The train jostled, and I shoved the phone back into my handbag.
CHAPTER4
Evan
When I got home,I found that my brother had let himself into my condo.
Drinks in hand, we settled in near the window.
“Sounds like you’ve had a pretty crappy twenty-four hours,” my brother said, lifting a glass of my very best scotch to his lips.
“No shit.” I was glad to have Noah here, but I’d never admit it. I’d called him this afternoon to talk over my demotion situation with Dad, and I’d mentioned Alexa’s visit without meaning to.
My twin brother—not identical, thank God—had shown up at my apartment to talk. He held the paper in his hands. “No wonder Dad demoted you. This is like committing reputation suicide.”
“What it doesn’t say,” I explained, “is that she’s the district attorney’s daughter.”
His eyes went wide. “Holy fuck.”
“You can say that again,” I agreed.
“Holy fuck. I guess on the bright side, you haven’t been arrested yet.”
I nodded. “Not yet.” Noah’s reminder of her father’s power sent a shiver through me. I had money and influence behind me, but that didn’t matter much against a man who could put me in prison.
“Maybe you should cool it in the dating department for a while.”
I swirled the scotch in my glass. “Way ahead of you. I’m off the market until this all blows over, and then some.”
“Wise move.” He indulged in another sip. “Am I here because Dad wants to get rid of you, and you want to join me?”
I’d already discarded that as an option. “No. Not yet.” Noah made a living in real estate, but I wasn’t built for that. “If Dad wanted to get rid of me, he would have just done it. Instead, he put me in this community-outreach job—community events and shit, but mostly charitable giving.”
“How long is that supposed to last?”
I shrugged. “No clue.”
