TWISTED FATE (Twisted Path Book 1)

Chapter 3

Becca

Pulling myself together after my freak-out takes way more effort than I care to admit. After some much-needed breathing exercises and a few desperate pleas for divine intervention, I'm back in control and more determined than ever to keep Shane Montgomery at a distance.

Though I'm stuck working with him, I'm not entirely powerless here. I mean, come on, I'm technically an adult now. A smart, independent woman with self-respect and morals. That I'm allowing someone like Shane to intimidate me is absurd. What I need to do is take charge of this situation, so for once, he's the one caught off guard and left reeling. I need to be the one dictating the terms of this arrangement, and it begins with his ridiculous demand that I take every Wednesday off of work.

I have bills to pay and a roof to keep over my head. Unlike the entitled rich jerk, I don't live a life of leisure, where rich mommy and daddy cater to my every whim after a hard day spent exploiting our community and crushing the dreams of those naïve enough to believe that hard work alone can help them overcome their subservient existence.

Ugh... why do I sound so damn jaded and bitter? Oh, that's right. Because my only point of reference is my life, otherwise known as "the aftermath" of what that rich asshole—aka my sperm donor—did to my family.

"You know what to do. Get out there, take back your control, and tell Shane Montgomery exactly how it's going to be," I whisper with conviction, as I stare down the thunderstruck girl in the mirror.

Running my fingers through my hair to fix it, I note the remnants of red flush that still linger under my skin. It's so embarrassing. I don't understand why this keeps happening. I've never been this girl. Not even Lucas, whom I was actually in love with, got under my skin like this. That it's Shane, of all people, who is affecting me this way is not only shameful but reprehensible. It's all the more reason I need to limit how much time I spend with him.

With my newfound feigned confidence, I stride back into the room as if the awkward exchange between us never happened. With my shoulders back and head held high, I walk right past him to where my uneaten plate of food waits for me on the counter. After everything, I've lost my appetite, so I dump the contents into the trash before dropping the plate in the sink. Instead of taking a seat next to him, I opt to stand on the other side of the kitchen island, diagonal from where he's sitting.

Very smart, Becca. Putting the kitchen island between you is what's safest.

"I can't afford to take every Wednesday off, Shane." I declare, determined to take control of the situation. "I get this is important, and I assure you, I'm committed to doing whatever it takes to get Mr. Blair off our backs. But losing out on money I need to keep a roof over my head is a non-negotiable for me."

Out of the corner of my eye, I see him nod a few times before he says, "I get that. I do, but here's the thing. I know your boss, and she doesn't schedule employees to work more than five days a week. What I'm suggesting is that you ask for Wednesdays off. Consistently. A day in the middle of the week for us to check in, which shouldn't take long. Then we could use the rest of the time to get caught up on our assignments. Maybe help each other if we need it. It's one day, Becca. One day in the middle of the chaos to catch your breath from the present, to prioritize your future."

Crap! When he puts it that way, it makes perfect sense, but to agree to his terms without question gives him way too much power over me.

"But why not on a Monday? Or Tuesday even, since they're the slowest days at the diner?"

"Oh, I have every intention of meeting with you on Mondays. And Fridays. That's my second stipulation. That you give me your lunch hour on those two days, so we can discuss your priorities and the assignments you're working on. We'll use the time to make sure everything's progressing accordingly."