“It’s complicated, Dad. And he’s not as good as you think he is.”
My father raised a fluffy gray eyebrow. “Don’t let the past get in your way.”
“Dad. It’s fine. I’m fine, OK?” I took several cleansing breaths. “Can I get you something to eat?”
“Not now, honey. Maybe later.” My father hit play, and the soothing tones of Attenborough boomed from the TV.
I left him to it, trying not to worry too much about his lack of appetite.
The front door opened, and I froze then relaxed. It was just Kara, coming for a visit. My sister entered, stumbling, a massive bag slung over one shoulder. She spotted me and offered up a sheepish grin.
“Hi.”
“Hi,” I said, then walked over. “What’s this?”
“It’s a bag, Hazel. A bag full of my shit.” She laughed. “I mean, not judging you or anything, but it’s pretty obvious what it is. Unless you need to get your eyes checked?” Kara didn’t meet my eye. She shut the door, tucking her key into her palm.
“You lost your place,” I said, hoping against hope that she wasn’t about to confirm it.
“That’s not technically true.” Kara blew her hair out of her eyes. “I didn’t lose it so much as I was kicked out of it.” She kicked one of her fingers up. “Ha. Yeah.”
“Why?”
“Well, I was living with Timmy, and we broke up, so he decided to lobby our roommates to kick me out and here I am.” Kara swallowed, drily. “But listen, it’s just for, like a week while a look for another place to stay.”
“A week.”
“Yeah,” Kara said. “I’ve still got that job, remember? The toothpaste commercial? So, that’s going to pay me loads, and then I’ll just… pay the first month of rent somewhere else.”
“Are you sure you’re OK?” I asked.
My sister’s hair was stringy, and dark half-moons hung beneath her eyes. Her makeup was smudged too—very unlike her. Kara was all about keeping up appearances.
“I’m great,” she said. “I mean, it’s not the best thing ever that I got kicked out, but whatever.” She waddled past me, carrying her bag, and heaved it up the stairs, heading for her bedroom.
Damien’s words rang in my mind, and doubts took seed. Kara stealing from Timmy. And now she’d been kicked out. I could barely afford to pay for the utilities and food for just Dad and me, and he hardly ate anything at this point, let alone have another mouth to feed.
“Ka,” I called out, and followed her up the stairs. She’d already reached her bedroom and kicked the door open. “Ka, I don’t mean to be a dick, but if you’re going to stay here, I will need a little financial help.”
“Huh?” Kara dropped her bag with a thump and fisted her hips. “What are you talking about?”
“Well, things are expensive. It’s just me looking after Dad and paying the bills, and he’s got doctor’s appointments and… stuff. You know? If you’re going to stay, you’ll need to contribute something.” It was better to get this out of the way now. I knew my sister—she’d avoid the topic if she could.
“Dude, I just got here. Can you chill?”
“Kara…”
“I don’t have money for you right now, OK? Jesus. Chill the fuck out.” My sister turned her back on me. “Can you give me one damn second to settle in here?”
“Kara.”
“Seriously! Just get the fuck out of my room.”
The hair on the back of my neck rose and my scalp prickled, but I backtracked out of the room and shut the door. Easier than arguing with her and potentially upsetting our father. Who she hadn’t even said hello to yet.
It was horrible to think it, but I doubted that Kara would have the money to pay anything while she stayed here with us.
I pinched the bridge of my nose, the weight of the world settling on my shoulders. Four mouths to feed if I included Piddlywump—of course I did—on a salary that was barely enough for one.
I can give you everything you need and more.
Daniel’s words drifted up, and I squeezed my eyes shut. I headed back downstairs and fetched my phone from my purse then entered my room and sat on the edge of my bed, staring at my reflection in the mirror over my tiny dressing table.
“Just do it. You don’t have a choice.” I did, but the consequence of it was to suffer for years, potentially lose my father, the house, and my hopes and dreams.
I tapped the screen and found the number. I dialed it and put the phone to my ear.
“Hello,” he answered.
“No strings attached?”
13
Damien
“There’s just one rule,” I said, admiring her despite my better instincts. “Don’t fall for me.”
“I think you should amend that rule to ‘don’t punch me’ when you ultimately annoy the shit out of me, Woods.” Hazel sat on the edge of her seat across the table from me in Little Big Coffee Shop. It was around the corner from my place.
She’d refused to come back to the house to discuss our business deal. Too scared she’d wind up underneath me again, screaming my name.
I didn’t blame her. Christ, it was a triumph that I could sit across from her without sporting an uncontrollable boner.
“I’m serious, Hazel,” I said. “This is supposed to be a no-strings-attached arrangement.” I lifted my coffee and sipped it. This place had the best in-house roast in the city, in my humble opinion.
She flipped open the menu and paged through it, absently, ignoring me? Or was she just avoiding me because she couldn’t handle the heat? Suited me fine. I wouldn’t allow myself to be tempted by her.
“We’re going to have a few ground rules for this arrangement,” I said.
“No touching.” She snapped the menu shut.
“Impossible.”
“I’m not going to let you pay me and then wind up… doing stuff. That would make me a prostitute.” Hazel said the last part too loudly, and the couple at the table closest to ours gave her
