Page 54 of Twisted Knight

Rhett Rothschild sets down his lighter as he grabs his clubs and hat. “Nope. Not even a ‘please’ or ‘thank you.’”

“Trash doesn’t have manners,” Porter says, slapping Rhett on the back. “C’mon, Rowan.”

“Yeah, Row,” Williams says as he hangs an arm around her shoulder and they all laugh again.

“Let’s go whack our balls around,” Porter says.

Laughter erupts around them as they head out the door. My tight shoulders begin to relax the tiniest of fractions.

“What’s his first name anyway?” Porter asks as they walk away.

“Simpson,” Williams says. “It’s Simpson, right?”

“Yeah. Pretty sure, but who fucking cares. He’s the help.”

I move toward the table where they were to pick up their mess.

Rothschild’s lighter is where he left it on the table. I glance over my shoulder to the door before picking it up. It’s heavy in my hand. The silver of it is cool to the touch, and the design on its sides—a crest of some sort—is etched into the metal. I run my fingers over it, wondering what it means.

Out of curiosity, I flip the lid open and click the dial so a flame sparks to life. I watch it burn for a few seconds.

Then drop it the second I hear footsteps behind me.

“You’d like to steal that, wouldn’t you?” Rhett asks at my back as he all but shoves me aside to grab his lighter. “Definitely worth way more than your mom gets on the street corner.” He takes a few steps backward, condescending smirk in full force. “Just admit it, Simpson. You’d give anything to be me. To be us. Sucks for you that’ll never happen.”

Unclench your fists.

Watch him walk away.

You need this job.

SIXTEEN

Rowan

“Tell me more about that incredibly sexy man who you’re working side by side with.”

Caroline finally got around to asking. I knew there was a reason for her call other than “just because.” “Side by side?” I snort. “Hardly. And his looks? Haven’t noticed.”

“You’re so full of shit you stink, Rothschild.”

“Okay, fine. He’s handsome. I’ll give him that,” I say as I throw the ball for Winnie and she bounds after it. “But good looks don’t negate all the other reasons I have to dislike him.”

“Still tense between you two?”

“Still … everything,” I say, not exactly wanting to talk more about the man who owns more of my thoughts than I care to give him. “Confusing. Weird. Surreal.”

“Ugh. I’m sorry. Should I accidentally trip him the next time I see him?” she teases.

“You’ve seen him?”

“Yep. He’s making his presence known around town.”

“I thought he already had.”

“Yeah, but it’s different now.”

“Different how?”