One Bossy Dare: Chapter 19
One Bossy Dare: An Enemies to Lovers Romance
âWeâre gonna need another batch of those kick-ass pastriesâtheyâre flying!â Meadow says with a toothy smile.
âNo problem, weâve got a whole stash.â I reach under the table, pull out a second tray, and place it on top.
âWoo-hoo, you rock!â She flashes me a thumbs-up.
âNah, thank Cole for letting me use Wired Cupâs test kitchen to whip these babies up. Itâs easy to make enough to feed an armyââ
âOr at least a homeless camp.â Meadow peels the foil off the new tray, inhaling the sweet scent with an appreciative grin.
I love her excitement, how genuine it is knowing she was once on the streets herself.
Then I go to work, filling row after row of disposable cups with piping hot coffee and placing them on the table beside the pastries.
My phone dings and I pull it out.
âIs that your pastry daddy?â Meadow asks with a wink.
âUmâ¦â My face heats as I glance at the screen and shake my head. âItâs Destiny, actually.â
âNice! Donât tell me sheâs canceling on us?â
âSheâll be here, Iâm sure.â I tap the screen and pull up the text.
Destiny: Iâm on my way now. Leaving the library. Iâm walking so itâll be a few.
I type back, Meadow and Wyatt can handle things here for a minute. Why donât I come pick you up?
Destiny: No, itâs cool. Iâve already gone two blocks. Oh and Iâm stopping off at Sweeter Grind. The cinnamon lattes there are bussin. Let me know if you want anything.
Eliza: Traitor. Donât let your dad see or heâll kill you. I add a skull emoji.
Destiny: Not if he doesnât know.She punctuates that with a wink emoji.
Laughing, I drop my phone back in my pocket.
âWell?â Meadow asks.
âSheâs on her way now.â I return to dutifully filling up coffee cups.
We work through the next big rush until the line clears. As always, the traffic comes in waves. So do the donors who just want a treat and theyâre happy to throw down a twenty for a good cause.
âWhew, Iâm working up a sweat. Must be twice as many people as last week,â she says.
âWoof, youâre right. Huge crowd.â Something bothers me, though, and itâs not just the relentless stream of hungry people. I stand on my toes, looking for Destinyâs head. âHey, Meadow, how long do you think that last rush was?â
âDunno. Maybe a good twenty minutes?â
I take my phone out again to check the time.
Yikes.
Itâs been almost an hour since Destiny texted me.
It shouldnât take that long to get to Sweeter Grind; itâs just down the street. The walk itself, well under half an hour.
Shit.
I call her. It rings seven times and goes to voicemail.
Destiny, where are you? I text.
When she doesnât respond in five agonizing minutes, I try again. Hey, just checking in, are you almost here?
No response.
Iâm feeling sicker by the minute, my mind hurtling into overdrive.
Ten minutes later, after Iâve imagined Destiny kidnapped and thrown in someoneâs trunk, hanging out with switchblade-wielding gangsters in some back alley, being forced to cook meth, and a dozen other horror scenarios, I decide to text her again.
Dess, Iâm not upset if youâre late. I just need to know youâre okay,I send.
Another five minutes of dead air.
Donât freak. Sheâs probably fine, I tell myself. Sheâs probably just so into her coffee trip and phone that she lost track of time. Maybe she even ran into a kid from schoolâ¦
Meadow sees the worry on my face, though. When I look at her, her eyes are wide with concern.
âEverything okay, E?â
âDestinyâs late and sheâs not answering her phone. Iâd better go to Sweeter Grind and find her. Probably nothing, but Iâll be right back. Sorry to leave you hanging.â I say it lightly, but inside, Iâm freaking.
Wyatt walks up. âWho are you leaving hanging?â
âMeadowâ¦and now you, too,â I say. âSorry, I have to go!â
He gives me a firm nod. âWeâve got this. Go right ahead.â
âThanks!â I donât even look back as I sprint through the park toward Sweeter Grind. When I close in on the shop, I pass a narrow alley along the way.
Iâm three steps past it when I hear a decidedly pained moan coming from the alley, followed by a sob.
I wince, half expecting to see a group of kids messing around.
But when I double back to look, thereâs a slim figure crouched against the brick wall, straining to breathe. Their face is hidden by a hoodie.
Damn it, not now. Cole trusted me with his daughter.
Iâve got to find her, but I canât just leave someone hurt and alone in an alley.
Sighing, I walk toward the crumpled form.
Iâll be quick. Just make sure the personâs okay, call 9-1-1, and then go find Dess.
âHey there, are you okay?â I ask.
Iâm not even in front of them yet when I hear a familiar voice.
âEliza?â
Destiny shoves her hood back, lifting her head.
Holy shit!
Her face is red and tear-streaked. Every bit of her shakes as she lurches toward me so fast she almost falls over.
âOh my God!â My heart drops through my stomach. âDestiny, what happened? Are you okay?â I grab her hand, fighting down my panic so I can help her up. âCan you stand? Donât try if your legs are hurt. What happened?â
She staggers up, sure, but Iâm terrified of making anything worse.
The poor kid heaves a few rough breaths and wipes another tear from her eye.
âI-I think Iâm okay, y-yeah.â She grips my hand, falling against the brick wall for support.
I hug her tightly. âWhat happened, honey? Did you fall?â
She shakes her head and pulls out of my embrace, dabbing her cheeks.
âN-no. These two guysâ¦â She pauses, drawing a shaky breath. âThey came out of nowhere and pushed me down. One dude stepped on me, so I couldnât get up. His asshole friend grabbed my necklace and they took off. I tried to chase them, give them money, give them my credit card for the necklace, but they ran so fast. When I got too close, they threw me on the ground. Knocked my breath out and I justâI couldnât get up. I couldnât catch them.â
Oh my God.
Itâs not much better than my meth-and-switchblades scenario.
This fifteen-year-old sweetie went after two psycho thieves to get back her dead motherâs necklace. Thank God she couldnât reach them.
âDestiny, promise me if this ever happens again, you wonât try chasing anyoneââ
âBut they took Momâs necklace!â Her voice cracks again, her mouth peeling open as sobs wrack her body.
âI know, baby. Iâm just afraid youâd be a lot worse for wear if youâd followed them. Youâre way more important than any jewelry.â
Her eyes are so wide with shock, her mouth a gaping ring. âButâ¦but sheâs gone and now the turtle is too. Now I have nothing.â
My heart breaks for her.
Iâm torn between being grateful she isnât hurt and hating these people for stealing something so precious.
âI know. Iâm sorry. But your mom will always be with you, Dess. No one can take away her memory, I promise you.â I scan her up and down. Sheâs still standing and looks brittle now. Thatâs a good sign. But my eyes stop on a nasty gash going down her leg, the blood already crusted over. âDoes that hurt? Anything feel broken?â
âNo. Not really.â She stuffs her hands in her pockets and turns her face down.
âStretch your arms out and wiggle your wrists for me.â
Destiny blinks. âWhat?â
ââ¦itâs what my dad did when he picked me up from school in fourth grade after I fell off the monkey bars. Just do it.â
With a frustrated sigh, she holds out her arms, rattles them, and then rolls her wrists.
âSee? No permanent damage. I think.â
âTry rolling your ankles, too,â I say, watching carefully as she steps away from the wall.
âAnd then I do the hokey pokey and turn it all around?â She raises one foot and moves it around in a circle for me. âYouâre acting like Dad.â
âHumor me, please.â
With a trademark teenager eyeroll, she raises her other foot and turns it.
âGood, good. Youâre a lucky girl.â I grab my phone then and dial Coleâs number.
âWhat are you doing?â she asks.
âCalling your father,â I mouth as his phone rings in my ear.
âYouâve reached Cole Lancaster. This is Saturday and Iâm in a meeting until five oâclock. Iâll get back to you as quickly as possible.â
Voicemail. I cut the call.
âThat figures. Looks like heâs in a meeting I didnât know about.â Heâs going to hate me.
I pull up the number for the Seattle PD and hit Call.
âWhat now?â Destiny looks at my screen, worried.
âWe have to do a police report. Your thieves could still be out there, and maybe you were just the first hit,â I tell her as a woman answers.
Thank God.
I explain the situation and she says sheâll send a police unit over to the area.
I try Cole again, get his voicemail again, and then text him while I grind my teeth.
Call me as soon as you get this. Itâs Destiny. Sheâs okay, but youâll want to see her ASAP.
Weâre there for another half hour or so, dealing with the cops.
A deputy asks her to tell her story, what the men looked like, and she gives them every detail, her voice trembling. They ask her if she wants to go to the hospital, but she refuses.
Meanwhile, my heart splinters about a hundred more times.
This hurt, scared girl looks so much younger than her age.
Finally I say, âIs that enough for now, Officer? Sheâs fifteen and sheâs been through a traumatic event. Sheâs answered your questions. Iâd like to get her out of the sun, somewhere she can rest.â
âOf course, maâam,â the cop says.
I turn to Destiny. âLetâs go. My apartment isnât far. Iâll make you something to drink, and you can rest until I get a hold of your dad.â
âIf you havenât got in touch with him yetâ¦does he really need to know?â She sounds so tired.
âYes. Your dad has the right to know that someone mugged you, Dess. Donât be too hard on him.â
âFiiine.â She groans. âHeâs just never gonna let me leave the house again.â
Iâm not sure I blame him, I think as we start moving.
Destiny follows me at a slow, steady pace as we exit the alley.
Outside the chaotic scene, itâs a serene summer day. We pass several groups of loud, laughing people with bulging shopping bags swinging from their arms.
âMaâam,â the cop says, reappearing behind me.
I spin around on one heel to face him.
âYou ladies need a ride home? Itâd save her some stress on that leg, I bet.â
âOh, sure. That would be great,â I say.
He leads us to his car and we both slide into the back.
Destiny looks at me with an unexpected grin. âBadass. Iâm posting a selfie from the back of the squad car.â
I fight the urge to laugh.
âDess, please donât post anything until Iâve talked to your dad. We donât want him freaking out more than he already will be if he sees it.â
Once the cop is behind the wheel again, I give him my address, and he pulls away from the curb.
I glance up at the officer in the mirror. âCan I ask a question?â
âSure,â he says.
âDo you think itâs okay for her now?â I hesitate, unsure how to word what I need to say. âDo you think sheâ¦â Will recover? Will have soul-crushing nightmares for months to come over this? I canât say that with Destiny right here, even if sheâs absorbed in snapping selfies she shouldnât be taking.
âSheâll be fine, maâam. I think this was just a random robbery and assault. Thereâs been a string of them in this area, Iâm afraid.â He drops us off at my apartment a few minutes later. âYou two be careful, now.â
I take Destiny inside and sit her on the toilet in my bathroom for a better look at her wound. With a quick scrub and some antiseptic, itâs not so bad. A little bandage and sheâs good as new.
In the kitchen, I throw together a seltzer water. I pour it over ice with a twist of lime, mashing the wedge on the side of the glass.
âYou have a soda stream?â She stares at me in awe.
I smile shyly. âWhat can I say? Sometimes you just need bubbles.â
âSweet! Do you make fizzy cold brews?â
âI do, and Iâll make you one as soon as that water disappears. Youâve been through an ordeal and itâs a pretty hot day. You donât want to get dehydrated on top of everything else.â
âThanks, Eliza.â She sips at the drink. âI mean, for everything today.â
âWhat are friends for?â I say, reaching over to muss up her hair. âCan I get you anything else? Are you hungry?â
âIâm good.â She sucks down the water in less than a minute.
âHey, did they take your phone?â I ask, before remembering they couldnât haveâshe was taking selfies in the back of the cop car, after all.
She shakes her head and reaches into the handmade Hawaiian purse that hangs over her shoulder, holding the phone up. It has a cracked screen but the display lights up fine. âDadâs gonna kill me. Another screen bites the dust.â
âBut it still works. So, why werenât you answering my calls? I could have gotten there sooner,â I say, throwing together another seltzer water for myself.
âIt was on silent and I was a little messed up. It fell pretty far in the scuffle. Took me a minute to find it.â
I stop mid-sip, frowning around the straw.
I donât know. Something about this just seemsâ¦off?
A second later, I realize what.
Sheâs still got her phone. A top notch iPhone, no less, usually a prime target for any thief with a brain.
Random robbery? Why doesnât it feel like it?
âDess, you need to stay close to your dad for a few days. If heâs not with you, keep me or Kate around.â
âWhy?â
âBecause. They took your necklace, but they left an expensive smartphone and your purse⦠Donât you think thatâs weird?â
Destiny turns her face up to the ceiling with a strained laugh and soft, âOh my God.â
âWhatâs wrong?â I ask.
âYouâve been around Dad way too long. Youâre getting almost as paranoid as he is.â
âEliza!â Cole barks, banging his fist on my door like a sledgehammer.
âGuess who.â Wincing, I look at Destiny.
She laughs as I walk over and open the door. Cole stomps past me and goes straight to my sofa. He scoops Destiny up in his arms, pressing her against his chest with a muffled curse.
âAre you okay? Are you hurt? Destiny, did theyâ¦â he trails off, even as she wriggles away from him.
âDad, calm down! Iâm not seven. I just scraped up my leg.â
He sets her down with a reluctant sigh. âIâm going to take these damn bandages off so I can look at it, okay?â
âWhat? No, really Iâm fine andââ
âIâll be careful,â he growls, his hand already reaching for her leg.
He rips the bandage off so loudly I grimace. Poor kid.
I head into the bathroom and grab a couple fresh bandages. They never stick as well the second time around.
âLooks rough. I donât think you need stitches, though,â he says, relief in his voice.
âJeez Louise! I told you, itâs not that bad. Eliza cleaned it up hours ago. Give her some credit.â
âIt wasnât Elizaâs call to make,â he says coldly.
My breath stalls.
Iâm right behind him when he says it.
Not that he cares, though, judging by the edge in his voice thatâs all overprotective papa bear.
I donât want to be mad at him. Sheâs probably never had anything this serious happen before so yeah, heâs panicked.
âHere.â I hand him the bandages since taping her up probably isnât my place either.
He peels them and helps place them on her leg, passing me the dirty ones to discard. I start walking, but this time he follows me to the trash.
âWhat the hell were you thinking, Eliza?â
I stop, stomping the trash can pedal, and stare at him, too shocked to speak.
âHow did this happen? You were watching her. You let this happen while you were with her?â
Oh, boy.
I have a sneaking suspicion Iâm about to break that promise we made just days ago, when he loved me to mushy pieces and left me deliciously sore the next day.
That Cole, I could trust forever.
But the angry man with blue storms for eyes whoâs staring right through me?
This Cole is a stranger.
âShe was on her way to volunteer with me at the homeless camp. I wanted to come meet her, but she told me she was walking over from the library. She never showed up, so I went looking for her. Someone knocked her down and took her necklace before I ever showed up.â
âFuck!â His face tightens into a grimace before his gaze resettles on me. âWhy would you let her walk through a homeless camp alone? I know youâre not stupid.â
âCole, itâs a park. You know the place. You had Dess and her friends working with us before, so I didnât think it was an issue. Itâs fine during the day, too. Plenty of people around. For the record, she was ambushed a few blocks awayâ¦â
âThat was a city sanctioned charity event. Most of the patrons werenât homeless.â He holds up a hand, his lip curled in anger. âBefore you say any shit, Iâm not trashing homeless people. You damn well know bad actors infiltrate their spaces sometimes, and desperate people sometimes do desperate fucking things. And why did you bring her hereâof all placesâafter she was attacked?â
For the first time, his look scares me. Iâve seen him look hurt and annoyed and angry beforeâbut never this close to broken.
Never like Iâm the one responsible.
âIt was closer than your house, Cole. Jesus.â I pause, swiping a hand across my face. âLook, she was exhausted, stressed out, and scared. She needed water. I even had the cops drive us home so we didnât have to walk. But now Iâm curiousâwhatâs so wrong with this place?â
He stares at me.
âEliza, goddammit. You live in spitting distance of weekly robberies, plus the occasional armed carjacking that gets somebody shot. This neighborhood is far from safe. Hell, you shouldnât be here. But youâre a grown woman and you can make your own choices. My fifteen-year-old daughter damn sure canât.â
Oh, the nerve.
I nod slowly, biting my tongue so hard I taste blood before I say, âOkay. I didnât realize my locked, perfectly crime-free apartment isnât good enough to fix up your hurt kid while you were still at the office jacking yourself off.â
His eyes bulge and he opens his mouth to fire back, but a small voice cuts him off.
âElizaââ Destiny starts.
Oh, crap. Since I normally donât have screaming matches here, itâs easy to forget just how small this space is.
I hold up my hand.
âSorry. I shouldnât have said that.â I turn around and look at Destiny. âYouâre always welcome here, if youâre allowed. That wasnât directed at you, hon. But apparently, I made a big mistake by assuming you would be.â
Or I just didnât realize Iâm good enough to make your dadâs coffee and ride his dick.
But somehow, Iâm not good enough in all the other ways a demanding, rich grump-ass like Cole Lancaster needs.
âLet me settle this for both of you,â he says softly, turning to Destiny. âYou, young lady, are not allowed here without my permission. Youâve already been robbed. Youâre not running around Seattle alone anymore in this crappy part of town or anywhere else.â
âGod, Dad. Are you implying the robbers were homeless?â She looks at him with a brutal pout. âFYI, they werenât. They stank like cologne and there wasnât a speck of dirt on their white hoodies when they pushed me around.â
âNobody shouldâve fucking pushed you at all,â he mutters under his breath. Then he looks at me and shrugs. âSheâs never been robbed outside my office or in our neighborhood. She always had Kate around, or Tom, or at least a friend.â
âYouâre right to wonder, but Iâm telling you, itâs not a battlezone hellscape here,â I say. âI went to that camp a few times every month until I met youâ Iâve never come close to being robbed.â
âYou donât look like a target,â he snaps, looking away as soon as itâs out.
My jaw drops.
âWhat? What does that mean, Cole?â
He shrugs angrily, exuding pure insolence. âOnly that if I were going to rob someone, I wouldnât expect to make a lot off of you. Donât take it personally. You travel light with your ID and a few mason jars of coffee, maybe a water bottle. Youâre not a flashy girl sporting anything valuable.â
Yeah, heâs not explaining his way out of this hole.
My blood is about to froth over.
âIâll have you know that Dakota freakinâ Burns and her billionaire hubby are there at least once a month. More before they had their baby, even. Would they make better targets? Pretty sure sheâs walking around with six-figures of designer jewelry glued to her now.â
âLincolnâs built like a fire truck and he never leaves her side. Your friend probably has enough sense not to go without him.â
My lips tense into a painful line. âIâll tell you what she has sense for. Sheâll kick him in the balls if heâs ever stupid enough to think she needs him like some sad little damsel in distress.â
âDad, stop. Youâre being a jerk!â Destiny adds.
âStay out of this!â Cole warns.
Yeah, Iâve officially had enough, short of the ball-kicking he so deserves.
I start moving to the front door, loudly unlatching it just to prove to him that I have locks, and swing it open.
âYou should go. Get her home, before I lose my shit,â I say, waiting for them.
âYouâre kicking us out? Christ. Maybe you should calm down.â His voice is even, calm, and ice-cold as usual. He acts like Iâm the problem and heâs not being a raging dick.
I glare at him and shake my head.
âMy name is on the lease, last I checked. I donât have to do anything you say in my place. Now go, before I rage-barf all over Dess. She doesnât need that after todayâ¦â
âElizaââ he starts, but I point to the hallway, my hand shaking.
âGo! How many times do I have to say it?â
He moves back to my sofa and scoops Destiny up again, settling her on her feet. She gives me an apologetic look as he ushers her to the door.
âCole?â I call.
He looks at me over his shoulder. âYeah?â
âGiven your background, Iâd think you might be more empathetic.â
âWhatâs that mean?â
âNot everyone comes home from the military to rich parents. You were lucky, you know that, right?â
He stares at me like he just doesnât get it.
Of course not.
Rich guys wonât.
âA lot of the people down there we were serving coffee to came back hurt or had PTSD or both. Lincoln Burnsâ best friend lived there until Linc gave him a job. But not everyone has a best friend who can hire them. So, try to be a little more understanding. Also, get the hell out of my house.â You fucking snob, I add in my head.
âEliza, fuck. I didnât mean it the way it sounded. Itâs justââ
âHow did you mean it? The same way you stopped just short of calling my place a shithole?â I fold my arms, glaring.
âI donât think bad things about you or people on the streets. I just donât need my teenage daughter taking any chances with her safety before sheâs old enough to decide what she wants.â He stuffs his hands in his pockets, fixing his gaze on me.
I scoff. âWhatever. You know the biggest ways girls from affluent families get hurt is usually with an insider, right? A bad family member, a friendâ¦â
âThatâs not what I meant. She just got robbed, Eliza. Can you cool it with your smartass lectures?â He looks up at the ceiling, his jaw so tense it could pop. âI told you, I worry about you here, too. So, yeah, of course I wonder about my daughterâs safety in this neighborhood. Today is proof Iâm right.â
âI donât need to be rescued from poverty, Cole. Go use your superhero act on someone who cares.â Iâve been way more broke than this, but right now, I donât feel like saying it. I point to the hallway again. âBye.â
He starts walking, keeping his head down like a scolded cat.
I slam the door behind him and lock up, pressing my back to the thick wood.
Thereâs only one thing left to do now.
Collapse on my bed and cry.
I am so, so stupid.
I knew better than to get involved with another stuck-up suit who thinks he craps diamonds. He didnât play me quite like Derek, but did he play me?
And wasnât it my own fault for ever thinking heâd stoop down to care about an average, unfancy girl like me?
Why do I do it? Why?
I fell too hard, too fast, and with no idea how to pick myself up again.
An hour later, my phone pings.
Maybe itâs Cole.
Though the logical part of my brain quickly remembers itâs better if it isnât.
I tap the screen anyway, holding my breath.
Cole: Will I see you at work on Monday?
Ah, work. His precious brand. That would be what he cares about and not the glass heart he just punched into dust.
Eliza: Who cares? Your scorched lineâsorry âcampfireââis basically good to go. Pat yourself on the back and call it a day.
Cole: So, you wonât be in?
Oh my God. Iâm about to find a way to break the laws of physics so I can reach through the screen and smack him.
Do you check up on all of your employees on Saturday nights to verify their Monday plans? I send back bitterly.
Ha. It takes him a solid minute to respond to that one.
Cole: Only the ones I love.
Oof.
Mammoth freaking oof.
He loves me? After all of this? And he has to say it now after slamming the door in my face?
I hate how I get all squishy inside. I guess the joke is on me after all and Iâm the one whoâs playing myself with these men.
Eliza: How do they usually answer?
Cole: So far, theyâre not very forthcoming.
Eliza: I might need a wellness day. Mostly so I can get an appointment with my employment lawyer to file a harassment suit.
Cole: Youâre not serious?
Iâm not, but the jokeâs on him.
Eliza: Weâll see. Depends on if I survive the many horrors waiting outside my front door. Do I need a bodyguard for that?
Cole: Eliza, if you were a parent, youâd understand.
Eliza: LOL. Right. Because itâs not like I care about her or anything.
Cole: Iâm out. I tried to be reasonable.
Eliza: Only because your head is that far up your ass.
At least heâs a man of his word.
Because he doesnât respond to that last hit.
He just leaves me alone in this chasm of silence where I wonder how much of that was hot airâand how much he ever loved me, after all.