“Hey, Ma.” I swamped her in a big hug. My mom was a tiny little thing. She liked to tease that I’d almost killed her giving birth to my ten-pound pudgy ass. My size was the one thing that I’d clearly gotten from my father that I didn’t hate.
“Happy fifty-second birthday.”
She smiled. “Shhh. I’m thirty-eight this year.”
In all honestly, no one would blink twice if she said she was thirty-eight. Melody Rushmore kept herself in great shape with daily yoga and some sort of transcendental meditation that she always tried to get me to try out. Looking at her, people would never know that she had a tough life. The youngest of four children raised in rural Canada by an abusive father and alcoholic mother, she moved to New York City at only eighteen. She met my asshole father at twenty-two and fell for his bullshit. Eighteen months later, when she was two months pregnant with me, his true colors came out when he demanded she get an abortion. Before that, she’d had no idea that he was married. Definitely no clue that his wife had just given birth to a son of their own just six months earlier. Since dear old dad wasn’t about to own up to his responsibilities without a paternity test, Mom had to stop working at her dream job at the art gallery and find a job that provided insurance. She’d given up a lot for me, even before I was born.
“Is your easel in the car?”
“Yes. But I don’t need to use it. I can just put a canvas on my lap.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Let me get you something to drink, and then I’ll go grab your stuff from the car.”
I walked Mom to the bar, my eyes trained on the adjoining dining room where some fuckwad in a cheap suit was checking out Gia’s ass while she walked him to a table. The fucking universe is out to test my patience tonight.
Distracted, I poured Mom a glass of wine that almost overflowed. “Let me have your keys. I’ll be right back.”
Cheap Suit was still molesting Gia with his eyes. On my way to Mom’s car, I walked over to the table he still hadn’t sat his ass down at. “Everything okay here?” My face did not look like it gave a flying fuck if it was.
Gia’s brows furrowed. “Fine. Did you need something?”
I glared at Cheap Suit. “Just for your customers to take their seat so you can get back to work.”
Gia glared back on his behalf. “Thank you. If we need any assistance, we’ll let you know.”
I stormed off to the car. At the door, Oak shot me a knowing grin that said he’d just watched the interaction I had with my employee. I pointed a finger at him. “Don’t say a fucking word.” Then crashed the front door to the restaurant open.
The gravel beneath my feet crunched like it was as pissed off as I was while I made my way through the parking lot to find Mom’s car. Grabbing her paints, canvas, easel, and brushes, I slammed the trunk to her Kia and leaned against the car with my eyes shut.
The sound of gravel-chomping footsteps interrupted my attempt at calming myself. Gia was headed right toward me again and looked as pissed as I felt. I looked up at the sky and grumbled, “Not again.”
Her tiny hands flew to her hips. “This is bullshit.”
“You walking out of the restaurant when you should be inside working? I couldn’t fucking agree more.”
She squinted at me. “You know what I’m talking about.”
I pushed off the car and took a step forward. “I’m not in the mood for your psycho-analysis bullshit, Gia. Go back inside and get to work.”
“I thought you were different than all the other Hamptonite jerk guys. But the truth is, you just wear different armor on the outside. On the inside you’re the same self-absorbed, narcissistic bastard they all are.”
“I’m self-absorbed? Because I want you to do your job and not stick your tits in the face of my staff and customers.”
If I’d thought she was pissed off before, her face contorted to a whole new level of angry. Her lips twisted into a scowl, her forehead pinched, and the color in her face turned a lovely shade of crimson. At that moment, it became clear that I was losing my fucking mind, because while I’d been pissed off and wanting to lash out at the world since I’d first saw that skinny bartender pass my office earlier today, suddenly Gia’s seething changed my mood.
I bet angry fucking her would be great.
She stood in front of me practically foaming at the mouth, and all I saw was me, holding a fistful of her hair, yanking hard as I plowed into her from behind, smacking her ass over and over.