he's jealous. What are you driving today?"
"Why do you ask?" He knew I didn't care about cars at all.
"Just trying to figure out how long it will take you to get to 101 East End Road in Ocean Crest, New Jersey."
I heard him mutter under his breath and guessed, by the electronic sounds I heard, he was feeding the address to his GPS. I was right since after a longer beep, he announced, "See you in about ninety minutes."
That sounded about right. It had taken me an hour longer to get here from Manhattan, but Brad saw the speed limit as a personal challenge so ninety minutes it would be.
It was actually a bit longer because being a true sweetheart, Brad had stopped at my favorite Thai restaurant on the way and ordered enough food for three days. Watching him walk into my place with the take out bags made me all teary eyed. He hugged me, picking me up from the floor and twirling me around as if I was feather light. His loving smile was a welcome relief from the hateful stares I'd met all week.
"So this is where you grew up?" he asked after putting me down.
I gave him the grand tour and we sat and shared the food. He told me about his most recent business ventures and his latest conquests.
Brad had the Midas touch. The only thing he sucked at was settling down in a steady relationship. No matter how crazy in love he professed to be, he would always stray, get caught and dumped, starting on a new cycle until he tried again.
We drank a bit too much, took a walk on the beach and when we returned to my place, decided, because he had no place special to be, he would stay around for a few days.
Since I had trashed the inflatable bed, we shared my bed. As we laid in bed side by side, he marveled at the incredible silence.
"How much does DCD want for the building?" he asked.
I guess I must have mumbled the price in my sleep because when I woke the next morning, I found him at the kitchen table, phone on speaker, asking his attorney to make an offer on it and, if it was accepted, to create a new corporate structure.
"Of course, I have a name for it. Corporate Incubus." His lawyer roared with laughter.
"And may I ask what kind of business you're getting into this time?" the attorney asked.
"It will be a Business Incubator," Brad said winking at me.
And then I got it. Brad was an absolute genius and he was going to work his magic in Ocean Crest.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
It wasn't my business what was going on between them, but I drove by anyway. I wanted to know if Brad was still there. I didn't even know why. At first, I played with the idea of knocking, playing stupid, and seeing if he wanted to talk about the job he'd mentioned. I knew better. I wouldn't be cordial. I was more likely to be hostile. Maybe rip his head off...and why? Over a woman who’s destroyed our town, tore my father's livelihood, and doesn't care about Ocean Crest anyway? It was time to move on.
As I passed her house, I noticed the red paint on her car door. Somebody had tagged it with the word Bitch. I knew it would only take a little spray paint graffiti remover. Goof Off or Motsenbockers should do the job. I learned that early on when some girl I broke up with left a message spray painted across my truck years ago.
I could easily remove it, fix it for her, but there was a piece of me that felt it was justified. After all, she was a bitch, well, this current rendition. I shook my head. I'd do it overnight. I didn't need her to know I was the one to clean it up for her. She had enough on her plate. She didn't need this too.
As I turned the corner, I saw them walking down the block. It was late, why were they still out? I glanced at my watch out of habit. It was after nine. She was having too much fun, and standing too close to another man. My jaw tensed. My teeth clenched. I hated the man without really knowing him. They were laughing, and looked intimate. When Barbara looked up and noticed my truck, there was
"Why do you ask?" He knew I didn't care about cars at all.
"Just trying to figure out how long it will take you to get to 101 East End Road in Ocean Crest, New Jersey."
I heard him mutter under his breath and guessed, by the electronic sounds I heard, he was feeding the address to his GPS. I was right since after a longer beep, he announced, "See you in about ninety minutes."
That sounded about right. It had taken me an hour longer to get here from Manhattan, but Brad saw the speed limit as a personal challenge so ninety minutes it would be.
It was actually a bit longer because being a true sweetheart, Brad had stopped at my favorite Thai restaurant on the way and ordered enough food for three days. Watching him walk into my place with the take out bags made me all teary eyed. He hugged me, picking me up from the floor and twirling me around as if I was feather light. His loving smile was a welcome relief from the hateful stares I'd met all week.
"So this is where you grew up?" he asked after putting me down.
I gave him the grand tour and we sat and shared the food. He told me about his most recent business ventures and his latest conquests.
Brad had the Midas touch. The only thing he sucked at was settling down in a steady relationship. No matter how crazy in love he professed to be, he would always stray, get caught and dumped, starting on a new cycle until he tried again.
We drank a bit too much, took a walk on the beach and when we returned to my place, decided, because he had no place special to be, he would stay around for a few days.
Since I had trashed the inflatable bed, we shared my bed. As we laid in bed side by side, he marveled at the incredible silence.
"How much does DCD want for the building?" he asked.
I guess I must have mumbled the price in my sleep because when I woke the next morning, I found him at the kitchen table, phone on speaker, asking his attorney to make an offer on it and, if it was accepted, to create a new corporate structure.
"Of course, I have a name for it. Corporate Incubus." His lawyer roared with laughter.
"And may I ask what kind of business you're getting into this time?" the attorney asked.
"It will be a Business Incubator," Brad said winking at me.
And then I got it. Brad was an absolute genius and he was going to work his magic in Ocean Crest.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
It wasn't my business what was going on between them, but I drove by anyway. I wanted to know if Brad was still there. I didn't even know why. At first, I played with the idea of knocking, playing stupid, and seeing if he wanted to talk about the job he'd mentioned. I knew better. I wouldn't be cordial. I was more likely to be hostile. Maybe rip his head off...and why? Over a woman who’s destroyed our town, tore my father's livelihood, and doesn't care about Ocean Crest anyway? It was time to move on.
As I passed her house, I noticed the red paint on her car door. Somebody had tagged it with the word Bitch. I knew it would only take a little spray paint graffiti remover. Goof Off or Motsenbockers should do the job. I learned that early on when some girl I broke up with left a message spray painted across my truck years ago.
I could easily remove it, fix it for her, but there was a piece of me that felt it was justified. After all, she was a bitch, well, this current rendition. I shook my head. I'd do it overnight. I didn't need her to know I was the one to clean it up for her. She had enough on her plate. She didn't need this too.
As I turned the corner, I saw them walking down the block. It was late, why were they still out? I glanced at my watch out of habit. It was after nine. She was having too much fun, and standing too close to another man. My jaw tensed. My teeth clenched. I hated the man without really knowing him. They were laughing, and looked intimate. When Barbara looked up and noticed my truck, there was
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