Later on at night, while I’m lying on my sad, lumpy couch staring up into the dark, I hear the floorboards squeaking up above. I imagine the nanny, barefoot in her little yellow sleep shorts and low-cut white tank top, rummaging around the kitchen for more sugar. I feel a wistful smile on my face. Loneliness echoes around in my chest cavity. I just want to go up there. I wish I could. But that would be a terrible idea. No matter how much I’m craving female companionship.
Fuck—Monica never responded to my letter. I wonder what that’s about.
I pull out my phone. I call up my old cellmate from jail. Rivers. He was in and out quickly and he’s one of the few good guys I met in there. He’s a private investigator, or at least, he used to be before getting locked up. And despite his newfound commitment to the peace-and-love, namaste lifestyle, he may be interested in making a few dollars for a quick return to the shady side. I have some money to spare and right now, I need his expertise.
“Rivers,” I say when he picks up. “It’s Kingston.”
“No shit?” He laughs and some commotion bleeds through the line as he seems to move into a quieter room. “I heard you were released. Congrats, man. How’s life as a free man?”
I sigh. “It is what it is.” I cut to the chase. “Look, I need your help. I need you to find someone for me. This woman who was writing to me in jail.”
I share all the information I know about Monica, which isn’t a whole lot. But Rivers doesn’t balk at it.
“What’s your timeline?” he asks. “Is this a someday-maybe I want to find this woman and reconnect? Or is it more…urgent?”
I force a tight laugh. “Urgent. Definitely urgent.”
The bastard chuckles loudly. “Oh, I see…” he says suggestively. He knows exactly what I need this woman for, so if he’s any sort of friend, he’ll get me some answers. Fast.
I hustle him off the phone, shame bleeding like thick, black ink through my veins. Jessa’s face flashes in my mind like a neon sign. I’m at the point where I’m strongly starting to doubt that Monica will be able to steer my thoughts away from the nanny. That any other woman will.
I shut down my conscience, roll over onto my side and try to fall asleep.
22 Jessa
No. No, no, no.
I’m sitting behind my wheel, blinking cluelessly at my dashboard. I have no idea what any of the flashing signals mean but I know it can’t be good. The panel is lit up like an amusement park. I’m going dizzy just looking at it.
This cannot be happening. Not today.
I take a deep breath, cross my fingers and toes, and turn the ignition key again. The engine rumbles, screeches, clicks and backfires. Loudly. I have no doubt Mr. and Mrs. Kingston can hear it all the way over at the guesthouse. It sounds like we have a western shootout happening here in Eli’s driveway.
Crapsters.
Letting my shoulders fall, I climb out of my shitty car. Dad patched it up the last time I went to visit. What on Earth could be wrong with it now?
I grab the hood and struggle to pry it open. It takes a while to figure it out, but eventually the lid pops up, and I’m proud of myself. Smoke billows out from under the hood. Hands clasped over my heart, I stand there and squint through the smoke at the network of greasy tubes and rusty cylinders. I have no idea what I’m even looking for, but that’s just what people do when their old cars refuse to cooperate.
My sister would know exactly how to handle this. Alexia is freakishly handy. In moments like this, I wish I’d spent less time indoors with Mom playing with makeup and more time in the yard with Dad and Lexi tinkering around with cars and old machines.
I’m blinking through the smoke, choking on the smell of oil and death when I hear the front door to Eli’s house slam open.
“What the fuck was that?” The man growls. He comes stomping down his newly built steps, mumbling about this being his only day to sleep in. Guilt hits me, knowing that Callie is enjoying a rare sleepover with her grandparents after they took her to play group yesterday afternoon. Looks like I just ruined my boss’s day off.
But you know what? My day off is ruined, too.
He stalks toward me, in nothing but some low-hanging pajama pants. I’ve seen those abs up close and personal before, but holy hell, they look delicious in the morning light. It takes a whole lot of effort not to drool. Cranky as he is, he’s adorable with his sleepy eyes and his hair sticking up all over the place.
He’s standing next to me now, leering down at the engine bay At least, I think that’s what it’s called.
“Your car made all that damn noise?” he grunts, glimpses at me.
I cover my cheeks with my hands, completely embarrassed. I nod. And so begins the nervous rambling. “I can’t get it to start. And I’m supposed to go visit my parents today. I promised my dad I’d help him set up his new store. He’s opening up a repair shop. Mainly for small appliances. I don’t want to disappoint him, and I know that if I don’t show up, he’ll just play Superman and try to do everything on his own and throw out his back again. I’d call him to come fix it but he’s not answering his phone. Alexia could probably figure out whatever’s wrong but if I call her this early in the morning I might wake up the baby. My sister will say that she’s not mad about that but Di is teething so I’m betting that she woke her parents up half a dozen times last night.” I suck in a deep breath,
