Everyone believed I loved her miserably—a simp willing to swallow any humiliation just to breathe her air.
Right now, she was practically draped across Kevin's lap, her eyes glazed with adoration as he spun tales of his "glorious achievements" on Wall Street.
The fabrications were so laughable my head shook before I could stop it.
"You damn simp. Peeling shrimp is just peeling shrimp—what kind of expression is that?"
A cigarette butt arced through the air and landed on the back of my hand. The ember seared into skin. The crayfish slipped from my fingers.
The man humiliating me was Evan Whitney, Kevin's number-one lackey.
He squatted down, his fleshy face invading my space. "Do you know how expensive these are? Can a stinking shrimp-peeler like you even afford to replace one?"
Elisa laughed.
She lifted one lazy eyelid, sweeping a glance my way. "Evan, don't tease him."
"Kevin's family runs a massive business—a world someone like Adam can't even imagine." She stretched the words like taffy. "As for him? His only value is his utility. If he can't even peel shrimp properly, why would I keep him around?"
Yes.