The three buildings, he explained, had different purposes. The first building where I went was the office. The second was for the men—lunchroom, washroom, a place where they can cool down when the heat gets too extreme in the summer—basically a big locker room. The third was storage. He pointed out places as we drove around The Yard, the machines and what they do, the process of sifting debris from the soil, the types of soil and stones customers usually ordered. "You won't be taking order calls from customers wanting stones," he explained. "That's the job of the other three girls. You'll be taking care mostly of the construction side. Deb will explain it to you." "Is Rick your dad?" Where the hell did that come from? "I wish he was," he answered after a moment. He didn't offer anything after that. It was a skill, the way he dodged questions and answered them without giving away anything. I knew he was like this with everyone, not just me, but it was still frustrating. And if I let the drama queen in me take control, I'd feel hurt because I was lumped with everyone else. I was no one special that he would share things about himself to me that he wouldn't with anyone. Where the hell where you? What did you do? Why didn't you text? Am I still important to you? Was I ever? But I didn't ask any of that. Every one of those questions sounded pathetic. And too needy. And I didn't want to be. Pride kept me in check. By the time he parked the vehicle back to the same spot, I shot out of it, and headed for my car. I had to get the hell out of here right now. Being with him was playing with my emotions. And then I realized I still had to talk to Deb. "Shit." His blue eyes followed me as I walked back to the office, then he did. I waited until Deb was done on the phone. She apologized and said she was too busy today to brief me, but she handed me a folder, and asked me to come back in a couple of days and we'll work out everything then. She'd phone and let me know when she wasn't swamped this week and we could work out the days when I could start my training. The folder she handed me contained most of the information I needed. "Let me guess. Rick didn't ask you much," Deb said. The phone rang but she ignored it. "He didn't tell me much either." She rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "I knew it." Then she told me my hourly rate, which Rick had told me at least. "That works for you?" she asked, grinning. "Oh God, yes!" She laughed, and we said goodbye. I got out of the office, feeling better in days. No, weeks. I should celebrate with a milkshake. I should buy pizza for the guys at the garage, and takeout for Dad and Dylan tonight. I should phone Tala and treat her out for a movie. Damn, when was the last time I went to the theatre? I couldn't even remember. With this money, I could save up faster to buy off Andrew's share. Get rid of the parasite for good. I couldn't wait! When I saw Cameron outside talking with another man with a hard hat, I lost my smile. Muttering under my breath about dark evil spirits, I rushed to my car. "Kara," Cameron called out. "Wait up." I turned around, looked at him impatiently. How can you stand in front of me as if nothing happened? "What?" I snarled. How can your damn smile still affect me? I hate you. "I need a ride home," he said. "You still owe me." My jaw dropped to the floor. "I just need to clock out. Be right back." I watched him jog to the second building. I must've damaged my eardrums last time I cleaned them. The internet had warned me not to use cotton buds, because it would only push the earwax deeper, but of course I never listened. That must be it. I didn't really hear him say I still owed him a ride home, did I? I rushed to my car, started it. Nothing wrong with those ears. You heard him right the first time, girl! The balls! I could choke him with my bare hands. Just as I was going to speed my ass out of the parking lot, an eighteen-wheeler decided to block my way. I closed my eyes in defeat, hitting my forehead repeatedly on the steering wheel. "You gotta be fucking kidding me." And then I heard a knock on the passenger side door. It was him, of course. He looked like he washed up a little bit. His face looked cleaner, the grease stain missing. He'd lost the man bun, his dark curls in an adorable disarray on his head. He had changed into a gray shirt and dark jeans. "I'll ask him to move his truck if you let me in," he offered. His voice was muffled by the close window but I heard what he said. And the laughter in it. "He'll be here for another half hour," he added. I scowled at him. He grinned. This is your chance to prove that he doesn't affect you. Do it. Show him who's got the upper hand. If you can control yourself, that is. Or you can keep making a fool of yourself by blowing up on him again. See if he doesn't ignore and leave again. I need you to shut your pie hole right now. I don't need you in my head. Nothing really happened between you two. There were no promises. Why are you so hurt about it? Because I had let him in. I opened up to him. I wouldn't have opened up to him if he didn't pursue me, tell me all those lies. I wasn't dreaming. I wasn't making it up in my head. This time the inner voice in my head was quiet. Might as well let Cameron in then. I would prove to him how much he didn't affect me. I unlocked the door and got out of my car. "You're driving, Bigfoot." "Bigfoot, huh?" "If you don't want to then forget about—"