"Oh, I see. You can mock me all you want, but when it comes to you, the subject is closed."
"You may think you got the raw end of the deal, but I'm not so sure about that. I don't know what Dad was thinking when he picked up all these businesses, but I don't see how in the hell I'm supposed to do anything with mine," Ashton huffed.
"Damn, I wish I'd known you guys so much sooner. You both sound like little kids throwing a tantrum right now."
Tanner turned toward Max. He'd been so focused on his brother that he'd forgotten his cousin was even there with them.
"You lucked out, Max. You got a great father. Ours is a pain in the ass."
"I happen to like Richard," Max said.
"That's because you've only known him a year."
"Well, I look forward to many more," Max replied. "Since you have no furniture and no beer, I think it's time we head out."
"Yeah. That's a great idea," Tanner told him, but he was surprised by the way his stomach dipped. He might be acting as if he didn't want them there, but once they left, he knew he'd be stuck in this hellhole with nothing to do and no one to talk to.
Fighting with his family members seemed much more appealing than being utterly alone. He would rather swallow razor blades than admit that out loud, though.
"Get out of here. I obviously have things to take care of."
His brother and cousin took off, and Tanner slumped down on the counter. It was time to make some phone calls, time to decide who he was going to fire.
Chapter Six
Tanner stretched luxuriously before climbing from the surprisingly comfortable bed. When he'd called about the furniture, furious that his assistant hadn't thought about it, Randy had said that it was already arranged, and that everything should be there within the hour. Tanner felt more than a bit bad right now. Why had he yelled at the poor guy? Maybe it was time to give him a raise.
Damn. This wasn't like him at all. He'd gone from wanting to fire an employee to considering increasing the fellow's pay. That turnaround was surprising, to say the least. but he had to blame his rash decision-making on the ridiculous mess of a situation he was in. In short, not his fault.
After a quick shower, Tanner walked into his living room. His assistant had done well there, too, with comfortable pieces that didn't appear too out of place in this dump. Yes, the man was good, he had to admit. And when he opened his front door, he was happy to find the newspaper waiting for him, another point in his assistant's favor. He grabbed it and went to sit down.
While he read his paper and drank a cup of coffee, Tanner leaned back, thinking this wasn't going to be so bad. Yes, the apartment sucked, but he could get through his sentence.
It was under a month, after all.
Just as he stood up to grab his wallet and coat and head over to the mall, a mouse ran across the floor, less than a foot from where he was standing. Normally not a man who scared easily, Tanner found himself jumping back and fighting the urge to shout. The creature squeezed behind his kitchen counters and disappeared.
Snatching up his phone, he punched the buttons and pulled up his assistant's contact information. "Get the damn rodent company out here today, Randy; hell, get every pest-control company in the city out here. I want this building purged of all rodents, insects, and any other of vile things that infest places like this. If I see a single one when I get home tonight, find another job!"
He hung up before the guy could say anything. Tanner didn't care if it took every exterminator in the forty-eight contiguous states - he wasn't going another night sharing sleeping quarters with those disgusting creatures.
The thought made him think of his unusual neighbor. How in the world could she possibly name the damn things? What was wrong with her?
After throwing a leery glance at his now fully stocked cupboards, he walked out of the apartment. If he was late to his Santa gig, he had a feeling the cops would be showing up with guns drawn.
He could almost forget about the leash on his ankle. Almost, but not quite.
Not paying attention to where he was walking, Tanner pushed through the front doors of the apartment complex and tripped. He tried to catch himself before hitting the cold, hard cement, but it was too late. With a raging fury, he found himself sprawled out on the ground, his new pair of jeans ripped at the knees.
After shaking off the shock of falling, he picked himself back up and then turned toward the door and looked at the entrance. The cement steps were cracked and uneven, an obvious hazard.
Wrath pouring through him, he lifted his phone again and barely managed to keep from yelling as he told his assistant to have a construction foreman meet him at the mall during his lunch break.