“Gia, do not move,” he commands, and I pause mid step. “Lisa, outside now.” He points at the door then storms that way, with Lisa following in his wake. Watching them leave, I look around the empty bar then at the clock. It’s after twelve. Rose came in this morning and opened up for me, but then left saying she needed to run some errands and stop at the bank. I didn’t need her with me, because it doesn’t take a genius to figure out how to scrub toilets. But now I don’t know what to do with myself, or know when Rose will be back, or if Colton will be back at all.
Jumping in place when the door is thrown open so hard it bangs against the wall, I swallow, watching a pissed off Colton storm in. “Is everything okay?” I ask like an idiot, then watch his eyes come to me, and judging by the amount of fury in them, it’s not.
“You see that bitch, you tell me.”
“Ugh…”
“Actually, you see that bitch, you do not engage with her. You just tell me,” he clarifies, then he shakes his head and jerks his hand through his hair. “She stopped you last night when you were out walking with your grandma?” Even though it sounds like a question, it’s not; it’s a statement. She must have told him.
“She wanted to introduce herself,” I whisper lamely.
“Yeah, I bet she did.” He lets out a bark of laughter that is painful to listen to. “She’s a bitch, Gia.”
“Okay,” I agree, because I kinda already knew she was a bitch without him pointing it out to me.
“Me and her are done.”
“Okay,” I repeat, even though I’m wondering why he’s telling me that while looking at me like he is.
“Good, now grab your coat.”
“What?” I squeak.
“Grab your coat,” he says again, and figuring I don’t want to piss him off any more than he already is, I scurry to the office, grab my coat, and put it on.
He doesn’t tell me to follow him outside, but I do all the same, and when he stops at my Jeep, I stop there with him.
“The door is fixed.” He proves this by opening the door and slamming it closed.
“Thank you.”
“When summer hits, I’ve got a friend who can change out the doors and put on a soft top for you.”
“All right.” I nod, even though I’m still a little in shock by all that has happened in the last five minutes.
“I also changed the oil and checked and refilled the fluids. They were all low.” Uh, what? “You still might want to have it serviced by the dealer so they have it on record, since that kinda thing can fuck with your warranty.”
“Okay.”
“Good.” He pulls my key out of his pocket.
“Yours is in my bag,” I tell him, taking my key.
“I’ll get it later. Where’s your phone?”
“Pardon?”
“Your phone, where is it?” he repeats, so I pull my cell from the back pocket of my jeans. I don’t have a chance to hand it to him before he’s taking it from me. Then he takes my hand, separates my thumb from my fist, and holds it to the button so the phone unlocks.
“You could have asked me to do that,” I mutter, annoyed, but he ignores me as he clicks away on my cell, and then I hear his phone start ringing in his pocket.
“You have my number.” He hands me back my phone. “What do you do if Lisa stops you?” he prompts, and I start to go from annoyed to pissed, because one, he is not my man, and two, I’m a grown woman who has taken care of herself for a long-ass time. I don’t need him to do that for me, and I don’t plan on seeing Lisa again either. “Gia.”
“Colton.”
“Look, you’re new, so you don’t get—”
Snorting, I shake my head, which ends whatever he was going to say. “I might be new here, but I get it. Believe me, I totally get it. But since there is nothing for Lisa to worry about when it comes to you and me, I think I’m okay,” I tell him, heading back toward the bar and ignoring his heavy footfalls behind me.
Going inside, I walk back to the office and pick up the bucket of cleaning supplies, figuring I can disappear and clean the bathrooms again. “Leave it there.”
“You can’t tell me what to do,” I snap.
“You’ve already cleaned. You don’t need to clean again just to avoid me.”
“Fine,” I grit out, dropping the bucket. Then I let out a sigh of relief when I see him look from me to the bar.
“We’ve got customers,” he states through clenched teeth, leaving the doorway.
Thank God. I go out the door with him then walk around the bar, grabbing a notepad and pen as I head toward the four men who have just taken up one of the high-top tables.