Rebel Heir (Rush Series Duet #1)(6)

This was dangerous.

I needed another cigarette. I took one out and lit it.

“Do you think you could not smoke in here?” she said.

“No. I can’t not smoke.”

Insisting on smoking when she told me not to was definitely a dick move. I should have been more considerate…but with her in this car, I really needed it. I opened the window and made a conscious effort to blow the smoke out and away from her.

“How long have you owned The Heights?”

“My family built it a decade ago. I‘ve been in charge of it for a few years.”

“It’s a really nice establishment. I’d only been there once before tonight and had a bad experience. I hadn’t come back until today.”

My head whipped to the side. “What kind of bad experience?”

“Oh…it wasn’t the bar itself or anything.”

“What was it, then?”

“I met a guy there and it was…well, it didn’t end well. I guess I associate The Heights with that experience. I didn’t even want to come today at all when Riley begged me.”

The thought of someone she met at my business harming her made my blood boil. I slowed down the car and looked over at her. “Did he hurt you?”

“No.”

“What happened then?”

Her blatant response surprised me.

“I let him screw me, and he gave me the wrong number after.”

Not many things left me speechless. But hearing her say that definitely put me at a loss for words. It didn’t make sense how anyone could manage to get this chick in bed and then give her a wrong number.

Her honesty shocked me. How many women would admit that to their boss? Say anything you want to about Gia, but she was real. Maybe that’s what drew me to her. Because so much in my life was superficial and fake. This girl seemed like she had nothing to hide.

She covered her face. “God, why did I just tell you that? I vomit the truth sometimes.”

“Well, my mother used to say, ‘don’t apologize for your truths, only your lies’.” I glanced over at her. “He was probably married. We get a lot of those city types in the bar, think they can come and fuck around in the Hamptons then go back to their wives in Manhattan like nothing ever happened.”

“You know…I think you’re right. He was definitely not who he said he was.”

I couldn’t control the urge to scold her. “You need to be careful. You shouldn’t be going home with men you meet in bars.”

“I’m not a slut. I hadn’t slept with anyone in months before that. I was lonely, in the mood, and figured why not. This guy…he seemed really put together, well-dressed, articulate. It’s not like he promised me marriage, but we spent all night talking before I took him back to my place. He even made plans with me for the following weekend. I didn’t think he’d give me the wrong phone number. He was charming…had me fooled. If I could take it back, I absolutely would.”

I pulled up to her house—my house—a sprawling five-bedroom, shingle-style beach home that now served as a party pad for a bunch of city dwellers looking to escape Manhattan for the summer.

When I shut off the car, she didn’t budge.

“I wish I hadn’t just told you all that. I don’t want you to judge me or think I would do something like that with a customer ever again.”

Who the fuck am I to judge? I’ve fucked up more than my share of times.

“Believe me, judging you for something like that would be the pot calling the kettle black. We all make mistakes,” I simply said, lighting another cigarette. I blew the smoke out the window. “I just want you to be careful at The Heights. It’s a meet market.”

“Oh, I’m quite aware of that. I got hit on all night tonight, too.”

I sucked in my jaw. I know. I was watching and had to stop myself from getting arrested multiple times in my own bar.

“Anyway…” she said, “How did you know this was my exact house? You didn’t even use navigation.”

“I told you. I know this area inside out.”

She was silent then said, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Depends on the question.”

“How did you come to own The Heights? I mean, you’re young and…” She hesitated.

“What…”

“I’m not sure how to explain it, but you don’t look like what I would have pictured.”

“I don’t look like I’m going to be showing up at the local chamber of commerce meeting anytime soon?”

She cracked up. “Basically…”

Did I really want to get into this?

Fuck it.

“In answer to your question, I did nothing to earn The Heights or anything else I own except be born the bastard child of a very wealthy man who I can’t even stand to be in the same room with. There’s nothing impressive about that, being given wealth and not earning it.”

“You’re on bad terms with your father?”

“If he had his way, I wouldn’t even be in his life, let alone share any of his wealth. When my grandfather found out about my existence, which was later confirmed with a DNA test, everything changed. My granddad was an honorable man. He decided I was worthy of all of the same things that my brother—the legitimate child—got. So, I fell into a lot of wealth that I wasn’t really ready for or expecting. But that didn’t happen until I was in my twenties.”