Cash (Sexy Bastard #2) by Eve Jagger Page B

trust are a nice benefit.” He says sharply. “They
get cashed like clockwork, if I’m not mistaken.”
    “Yeah, by people who deserve the
money. Not by me.”
    “I didn’t think your high
and mighty morals would allow for it.”
    “They don’t. I send that
money to people who lost it. People you screwed in that deal, Dad.
They get my trust checks because I know they got nothing from you.”
    There. I’ve said my piece. And
he’s got nothing to say back to me. Fine. Good.
    “Good luck with your heart,”
I grind out. It’s the nicest thing I
can manage.
    A person I barely recognize is in the
waiting area when I exit. Tasha’s flung in a chair, feet up on
the one next to her, phone out. She’s older than I remember.
She’s got to be what, nineteen, twenty? College age, I decide.
Sure doesn’t look like the kid sister in braces and school
uniforms that I remember. This girl has on too much make up and a
look that she definitely learned from our mother. A look caught
somewhere between boredom and sleep deprivation.
    “You make them angry again?”
she asks without looking up.
    “A little. Keeps ‘em on
their toes. How’s college?”
    Tasha glances up. “Like you
care,” she sneers, going back to her phone.
    “I asked, didn’t I?”
    She gives me the finger.
    “Classy, Tasha.”
    “With a K.” She still won’t
look at me. “Just go on home then, you’ve stirred the
pot. Now hopefully they’ll go spend a week in Bermuda
channeling their chakras or find an ashram again—that was
great. Go back to your awesome life and leave me to clean the rest up.”
    “I’m here if you ever—”
    “Whatever.”
    “I mean it, Tash.” I
scribble my number on a crumpled gas station receipt in my pocket and
set it on the table beside her. “Call me if you need anything.”
    She ignores it and pulls out
noise-canceling headphones. Even if I say something, she’s
never going to listen. Wherever my kid sister went, I don’t
think she’s coming back. Just another casualty of my father’s
corruption. Except with Tasha, there doesn’t seem to be a way
to save her. This isn’t about money, and I don’t know how
to fix it.
    Tasha finally picks up the paper and
just when I think she’ll rip it up, she inputs the digits into
her phone. My parents may have screwed up the both of us, but we’re
still siblings. I should have been there for her more. I was so busy
running from my own personal hell my Dad created, I really didn’t
think about her. I hold out my fist, and with a roll of her eyes she
fist bumps me, just like when we were little. It warms me up a bit,
but I know I probably won’t be hearing from her anytime soon.
    Leaving the hospital, I’m still
in a funk. I’d go home, but that means facing the guys, and
that’s not happening if I can help it. I pull out my phone.
There’s a single text message from Savannah: Dinner?
    I can’t type back “yes”
fast enough. A night with Savannah is just what I need. After what
happened between us last time, it’s safe to say we have some
unfinished business - and I need to make this day disappear. Last
night, I saved her from her past, now it’s her turn to make me
forget mine.

 

CHAPTER EIGHT
     
    Cash
     
    Dating is a level of hell I prefer to
ignore, but for Savannah, I can make the effort.
    Parker was my hook up for the
restaurant—he pulled his New York strings, and suddenly I had a
table at this hot new sushi place. All monochromatic colors and small
bits of food served on little cubes of noori-wrapped rice. I don’t
have the best track record with sushi, as everyone knows from my food
poisoning incident a few years back. Part of me wonders if Parker did
this as some kind of revenge. But I forget about all that when we’re
shown to our table.
    “I can’t believe you got
reservations here,” Savannah gushes, gazing around the lush
interior. “I’ve been dying to come here.”
    Right away, I start to relax. Savannah
can have that effect on a