Love Me Like You Do (Love Me Book 1) Read online

  She can’t be serious, we aren’t hurting for money; we have weddings and parties booked from now until December of next year. I pinch the bridge of my nose and let out a long sigh. I’m known be a real asshole and this woman in front of me brings it out even more.

  “I’ll only do this wedding on two conditions. First, you and your fiancé must sign a contract stating that your wedding planner will be the one talking to the staff. Second, that I can break this contract at any time if you become too much to handle. I know you, Robin, and I know that if you can cause my sister any pain, you’ll do it.”

  “How dare you speak to me like that? I’m a paying customer. I’m pretty sure that Sally is a big girl. She doesn’t need you, the little brother, standing up for her.” She snickers at her words. I’m done. I slam my fists down on the table to get her attention.

  “Listen hear you, psychotic brain dead she-devil, you’re not a paying customer. You’re just an old piece of ass. If you want your wedding at my hotel, then listen carefully. Sign the contract, don’t talk to my staff.”

  “What happened to the sweet Cash that would do anything for me?” She pouts and in the past, she knew that look would get me on my knees begging her to do something, anything and everything, to fix what was bothering her.

  “Robin, you broke my heart. I have no ill-feelings towards you and wish you all the happiness in the world. I’m a businessman and can’t think about past relationships, love, and friendship. So these are my terms, take it or leave it. I don’t even know if I can fit your wedding in because we’re quite busy.” I’m trying to remain professional, but it’s just too damn hard.

  “April 11th is the date we have set for the wedding. It’s the day that we fell in love. Do you have something available that day and can I see the reception hall and area that we would get married? I want to make sure it’s how I remember it. I heard you had some renovations.” She’s trying to keep her voice calm, but it’s obvious that I hit a nerve.

  “I don’t know if I can accommodate you on your special day here at Hawthorne’s Hotel, but I’ll check with Sally. I’ll have Jenny show you around, but I’ll put you down as tentative until I draw up the papers and you sign them. Jenny will also need the number of your planner so Sally can contact her.” I grab the door handle, but Robin stops me from walking out.

  “That’s it? Are you this rude to everyone or just your exes?” Robin clearly didn’t like being dismissed.

  “I’m an asshole, but I’m trying to remain a professional. You’re making it hard. What do you want from me?”

  “I want the truth, is that too hard to admit? You wish that I was marrying you.”

  “Robin, I wish you the best of luck in life. Besides you know me, I don’t do marriage. But if you will excuse me, I’ll get Jenny to come and take you on a tour. Once legal has a chance to look over the contracts, I’ll messenger them out. Leave your contact information with Jenny.” I walk out the door and speak with my assistant, “Jenny, can you show Robin around and get the number to her wedding planner.” I tap her desk with my knuckles then head into my office. Jenny stands up as I tell her to give Robin the tour.

  “I can’t believe she got to you,” Sally remarks as she stands in the doorway with her arms crossed.

  “She didn’t get to me, but I need your help writing the contract,” I explain to Sally what Robin and I discussed. After we had squared away the details and had the draft of the contract written, I called the in -house attorney to help us make it legal. Our lawyer tells me to messenger it over so he can write it. My cell phone chimes and I look at the clock on my computer. I smile, know that Abby will be at lunch.

  Abby: How’s your day going?

  Cash: I’m with a client who I want to shoot, my ex is getting married and wants to her wedding here at the hotel.

  Abby: Oh I bet that’s awkward.

  Cash: no because she is crazy.

  Abby: Note to self, Cash likes them crazy lol Message me when you’re done so we can chat.

  Cash: It will be ten minutes tops. I don’t like them crazy; wait are you crazy?

  “We’ll talk later, but I have some appointments lined up,” Sally says before leaving my office. I get back to Abby as I go to grab lunch.

  ABBY

  Cash: I don’t like them crazy, wait are you crazy?

  I keep looking at my phone, re-reading the last text message from Cash. Does he like me? He can’t possibly like me. How can you like someone that you’ve never met face to face? Do I like him? I’m staring at the message when another text comes in.

  Cash: Sorry about that, how was the pop quiz?

  Me: I’m doing them in all my classes, and they don’t like it lol.

  Cash: Sorry for earlier it’s been crazy here. Apparently with the holidays coming up, parties and weddings are all they want to do.

  Me: I’m sorry that you had to deal with your ex.

  Cash: I’m not sorry. She never gave me the closure I needed. I got it today.

  Me: That’s good. Is the hotel busy?

  Cash: Yeah we have weddings and parties booked up until December of next year.

  Me: Coffee IV for Cash Hawthorne STAT! lol

  Cash: I wonder if I could order one of those from Amazon, oh I’ll be online to play and raid every night.

  Me: If you need to take the time off, I’m sure the leader will be ok with it.

  Cash: Hell no! We finally got the last slot filled. I’m not missing out on it.

  Me: LOL you’re too funny. Ugh, there’s the bell. I need to run.

  Cash: Have a good afternoon and try not to torture your kids so much

  Me: Thank you and I can’t promise that.

  I put my phone in my pocket and gather up my lunch bag to head back to my classroom, smiling over our natural banter. Cash and I can talk for hours about nothing and still find things to talk about. I’m starting to look forward to them. I can be myself, and he accepts me for who I am. He even knows when I’m holding back on things and calls me out on it.

  “Miss Abby, is it true?” I twist to see one of my favorite students walking towards me.

  “Hello, Brandi. How are you today? Is what true?”

  “Is it true that you’re giving your students a pop quiz and each one are different so we can’t discuss it?” I smile at her, spotting a small group of my students gathered together out of the corner of my eye. Discussing the quizzes most likely.

  I motion for Brandi to lean in to me, whispering to her as the other students slowly making their way to me. “You will just have to show up to see.”

  “Miss Abby, you’re torturing us!” one of my students yells after Brandi relays my message about the pop quiz.

  I twist around. “Now you know what it was like on my first day with you kids.” I laugh and they join in with me. I love my students. They have a thirst for learning and treat me as a friend instead of their teacher.

  By the time the last bell rings, I’m exhausted. Regardless, I stay another hour to get a head start on grading the pop quizzes. Noticing the time, I realize I have an hour before meeting up with Max. Sarah’s earlier message had explained that she wouldn’t be joining us, but instead going out with her parents. As I’m gathering up my stuff to head home, my phone rings. I fumble to get it out of my pocket and answer without checking the caller ID. “Hello? Hello?” I repeat as I struggle to hold the phone between my ear and shoulder while opening my car door, determined not to drop everything in the process.

  “Abigail.” I groan to myself, as I hear his gruff tone on the other end of the line. I need to pay attention to my phone. “Abigail, Hello, Abigail.”

  “Hi, Dad. I’m here. I almost dropped my work stuff. What do you need?” I grudgingly reply.

  “Are you coming to work this weekend? I have a waitress who needs the weekend off. I have no one else.” I roll my eyes; I know he has people who can work for him. There’s no reason he can’t work a shift at the diner; he expects me to drop everything for him in
stead.

  “I’m not sure if I can, but I’ll check my schedule.” I lie. Working for him is the last thing I want to do. It’s just another way for him to keep his tabs on me.

  “What schedule? Did someone show a little bit of interest in your fat ass?” he rudely asks.

  “Bye, Dad. The answer is no,” I tell him, as I toss my bags onto the back seat and climb behind the wheel.

  “You ungrateful brat,” he spits out. My hands instinctively go the gold necklace that my dad gave me one Christmas. It’s a heart with a small diamond in the middle. I always grab it when I’m on the phone with one of my parents—willing it to give me strength.

  His comment leads into a rant as he spouts off degrading names, putting me down in the way only an abusive man could. I cringe, the pain I feel at the harsh words is familiar. Without saying a word to acknowledge his ranting, I pull the phone away from my ear and disconnect the call. Tears stream down my face as I replay his last comment about my weight. I throw my phone into my purse and sit there, trying to figure what I did to him that made him treat me, his own daughter this way. I need to stop letting him get to me. It isn’t worth the mental anguish he puts me through.

  I start my car and pull out of the parking lot, thinking about the years of abuse that I allowed myself to endure. All those years, and finally I got away from him. I found a great job doing something I love and am good at. I know I shouldn’t allow his comments to bother me. I drive home on autopilot, not paying attention to anything around me, too focused on my mental torment. All thanks to my father.

  I pull into the driveway and park beside Sarah’s green Volkswagen Jetta. My car is a Honda Civic looks sickly next to Sarah and Max’s. Looks like I caught her before she left for dinner. We live far enough away from our families that she always meets them at the restaurant. I check myself in the mirror to survey the damage the phone call from my dad has done. I wipe off the mascara from my face, but it’s still obvious that I’ve been crying. I take a deep breath before opening my car door. How was I going to hide this from Sarah? She’s known me for years, has been there for me during all of the abuse I have taken over the years, and although she doesn’t know everything that I’ve endured, she’ll know right away that something is wrong.

  The door opens as I walk up to the porch, and Sarah appears, her hand on her hip and her head tilted to the side as she studies me.

  “I was wondering when you were coming in. What were you doing out there? I had a busy day and couldn’t text you about the details of our girl’s trip.” she rambles. I plaster a fake smile on my face; I was getting far too used to covering my emotions.

  “Oh, I can’t wait to hear about it. It’ll be nice to get out of here,” I reply, trying and failing to bring enthusiasm into my tone.

  “Did something happen?” Sarah asks with concern, noticing my tear streaked face.

  We walk into the dining room. It isn’t your typical room because we had a bar set up. The table was from an old bar that was closing; it was the high table top with stools. Sarah pours me a much needed Jack Daniels and Coke. “I just got a call from my Dad. He needs me to work at the diner this weekend, and when I told him that I need to check my schedule, he made the usual fat ass, ungrateful brat comments again,” I feel so ashamed telling her because I’m not that ten -year-old girl anymore. It’s devastating knowing that someone else knows part of it, and I wish I wasn’t embarrassed to tell the whole truth.

  “I just don’t understand him. Why does he have to be like that?” she asks, shaking her head.

  “Why does who have to be like what?” Max inquires as he enters the kitchen. I shake my head at Sarah, silently telling her not to let him know what’s going on.

  “We were talking about the Bachelor last night. He’s a complete moron.” Sarah fibs. She always has my back.

  “Thank you,” I mouth to her.

  “So you ready to go, sis?” Max asks me with a strange look on his face.

  “Let me change into jeans and a t-shirt.”

  “I talked to Dad earlier. He asked me to work this weekend, but I told him I had plans. He told me not to worry about it—that he was calling you.” He shrugs as I roll my eyes.

  “Can we talk later about the trip?” I ask Sarah as I start towards my room.

  “Yeah if you aren’t in the middle of your game. If we don’t get to talk then I’ll email you the details since I already booked it,” she finishes sheepishly.

  “You booked it without talking to me about it?” I exclaim.

  “It was cheap, and I had to jump on it,” she gave Max a look at can you help out, and he just seems to ignore her.

  “Well, it better be someplace awesome. I can’t wait to go.” I get up to hug her, I could try to be angry at her for going ahead and booking the trip without me, but there was no point. That was Sarah, always jumping in and worrying about the consequences later.

  “Alright, Max gives me ten minutes.” I ran upstairs to change out of my work clothes. I grab a pair of jeans and my favorite black t-shirt. I always wear black around my Dad because it’s slimming. I hate the comments; I keep praying that I just get through the minimal contact we have now. If I can avoid him, then I can live my life.

  I come down the steps and hear arguing. “Come on, Sarah, let me go too! I want to get out of town.” Max whines.

  “Book your vacation. What part of girl’s trip do you not get? The girls or the trip?” Sarah snaps at Max.

  “Why are you such a bitch today?”

  “The world doesn’t revolve around you, Max.” Sarah looks ready to spit nails.

  “Abby, what do you think?” Both sets of eyes turn to me, and I’m torn. I start to shake my head. “Don’t put this on me. I would love just to have it be Sarah and me.” Sarah starts to do her ‘I won’ dance, but her face falls when I continue. “But I would also love to have a vacation where Max joins us. The three of us haven’t been anywhere together.” Max now starts his ‘I won’ dance. I sigh heavily; there’s no pleasing everyone in this situation.

  “We’ll discuss it later.” Sarah pushes past Max. I don’t know what I’m going to do with these two. I may have to lock myself away while they work out their issues.

  We leave the house and Max, and I climb into his SUV.

  “Seriously, what did I do to Sarah? Is she PMSing?” I punch Max in the arm. “What the fuck?” He rubs his arm.

  “I don’t know to be honest, but you need to fix it.” I look at him, raising my eyebrows

  “Why must I fix it? I don’t even know what I did!” He starts up his vehicle, and we’re on the road.

  “You don’t think before you say or do anything; consequences be damned. I love you, Max, but your cock does more thinking than your brain.”

  “Abby, what I do with my cock is my business. Never, ever talk about my cock again.”

  We pull into the diner parking lot and see that they are quite busy on a Thursday night. “I can’t wait for a chocolate milkshake. Yummy!” Max laughs at me as I rubbed my belly and licked my lips.

  “Long day, sis?” he snorts.

  “Yeah, I was up late and didn’t get much sleep.”

  “Still talking to that guy you play online with?” We get out of the truck and stand in front of the SUV. “Are you going to give me shit about my gaming too? Do not and I mean do not talk about him or my online gaming in front of Mom and Dad,” I warn, hoping that he will remember my aversion to my parents knowing all about my personal life.

  “Why would I give you shit about it? I promise I won’t talk about your private life with them. Why do you freak about them knowing?” Max questions.

  “You just don’t understand and please don’t make me talk about it,” I grumble as I grab the handle, letting him know the conversation is over.

  I spot Betsy, a sixteen -year-old waitress, taking an order when we step inside the diner. She catches my eye and smiles. When she’s finished serving one of the diner’s regulars, Mr. and Mrs. Stinson,
she comes over to hug me.

  “I’m so excited to see you. I wasn’t sure if you were coming in or not.”

  “It’s Thursday so of course we’re here. You guys are busy tonight,” I comment, surveying the packed room.

  “Yeah, they had to call Libby in to help me. Your parents are in the office,” she informs me before heading to the kitchen to place her orders.

  “If it gets to be too much, let us know, and we can help you out,” Max calls out to Betsy as I walk over to a table set for four. “Should we go back to let them know we’re here or just wait?” I ask.

  “I can go back to get them. Order me a Coke with a vanilla shake, okay?” He disappears behind a swinging door, heading for the office in the back. Betsy returns and I give her our drink orders. I don’t know what my parents are going to have or even if they’ll join us. Part of me wishes they won’t.

  Mama’s Diner is old -fashioned and out of date. It seats about one hundred and fifty people with thirty tables and booths that look like they are the backseat of a car. Each booth is light blue with a black stripe going down the middle and have individual jukeboxes equipped with a select few tunes from the 50’s. A typical diner counter lined the front of the restaurant, allowing seating for twenty-five people. The walls are covered with local sports articles and records, giving it that retro feel. Overall, the diner isn’t a bad place to work. If my father wasn’t the way he was, and my mother blinds to it, I may have spent more time there. My grandfather had a hit when he started this business. Every time I would try to talk to him about updating it, he would tell me no; that sticking to tradition was the way to go. I’d laugh with Sarah as we joked about calling in one of those remodeling shows on TLC or HGTV. We knew my grandfather would have a cow with them showing up and changing his beloved diner. I thought when he retired dad would take over and make the changes that need to be made, but he didn’t. He had the same dated attitude my grandfather had.