“No.” I smiled at my friend and before I realized what the hell was coming out of my mouth, I made up something up. “Wrong number.”
* * *
“Are you done?”
I pulled my bag up and over my opposite shoulder and straightened, wiping at my forehead with the back of my hand. “I have to get to work.”
The German had his own bag over his shoulder. His handsome, handsome face was tight as he ran a hand over his head.
I raised my eyebrows, forced a smile on my face and turned to start walking.
Kulti’s hand whipped out to grab my wrist, stopping me in place. “Sal,” he hissed, turning me to face him.
I took a breath through my nose and tipped my head back to look him in the eye. “Kulti, I need to get to work. “
His head jerked back, the corner of his cheek rounding like he was sticking his tongue there. “Kulti, really?”
“That’s your name, isn’t it?” I slid my arm up and out of his grip, keeping my gaze locked on those green-brown eyes that seemed lighter today than usual. “Look, I really need to get to work. I need my job to help me pay bills.” So maybe my smile turned a little condescending, a little smug and just the tiniest bit bitchy.
“You shouldn’t give me the power to make you angry.” He lowered his face to mine and I had to fight the urge to roll my eyes.
“What I shouldn’t do is waste my time on someone with an attitude problem.”
Kulti’s Adam’s apple bobbed, his gaze intense on me as he took his time replying. The words were even and steady out of his mouth. “I used to make more money in a day than most people do, you aren’t the only one—“
This wasn’t helping at all. My eye twitched. “Yeah you made more money in a day than most people in third world countries make in a lifetime. Trust me, I understand, and I could care less about how much money you make or don’t make. Don’t be an idiot.”
He wasn’t used to being called an idiot if the look on his face said anything, but by that point I couldn’t have cared less. “I’ve worked as hard as you did to get to where I’m at. Just because I don’t make as much money as you doesn’t make me any less worthy.”
Kulti shook his head. “I never said it did.”
“Well, you sure made it seem like it did. Just like you made me feel this small for having another job,” I told him, holding my thumb and index finger about an inch apart.
“Sal,” he grumbled my name.
I raised an eyebrow at him. “I do landscaping. Did you know that? Because you’ve never asked, but I think you should know if you didn’t. Sorry I’m not sorry that I can’t live up to your standards.”
“What standards?”
“Your standards. I can’t give you advice because I’m too young? Or is it that I’m poor? Wait, it’s because I’m a girl. Is that it?”
“Why are you being so stubborn about this? That isn’t what I meant.”
That had me letting out a sharp laugh. “If our roles were switched, you really think you wouldn’t say something similar if not worse? Seriously?” He’d tell me to eat shit and kiss his ass for sure, and that was the PG-13 version of it.
He knew it was the truth from the way his tongue poked at the side of his cheek.
I gently tugged my arm away from him, and he let me that time. “Look, I’m not in the mood to talk to you right now. You don’t get to take your anger out on me and expect me to get over it like nothing happened. The fact is, I would never say what you said to me to anyone. I thought we were friends and that’s my mistake. I don’t want to be friends with someone that looks down on me. I really do need to get to work.” I took a couple steps back and offered him a smile that I wasn’t feeling. “I’ll talk to you later.”
I have no idea if or how he responded because I took off. I hadn’t been lying. Marc and I had a lot of work to do.
* * *
I stared at the images on the tablet.
“Is it?”
Was it me in the pictures? Yes, it was. Clasping my hands and settling them between my thighs, I looked away from the photographs that had been taken right outside of my doctor’s building.
The first picture I’d been shown was of me walking alongside Kulti with my head down. The second was of me standing by his car right before getting in, and the third showed me getting in while the German stood a little too close behind.
It was definitely me. There was no denying it; anyone with decent vision could recognize who it was.
So the fact that Gardner, Sheena and Cordero, the Pipers’ general manager, had invited me to a meeting to talk about this had me on edge.