by S. L. Scott
“Probably not.” Her voice is quiet this morning, and I don’t think she’s looked me in the eyes once since she arrived.
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” Her voice pitches defensively.
“Maybe you’re hungry.”
“I’m perfectly fine.”
Apparently . . . “Are you uncomfortable?”
“No,” she scoffs, waving her hand as if I’m ridiculous for even suspecting such a thing.
“I’m not hungry, and I’m not uncomfortable, Jet.” Her eyes still haven’t met mine. “I’m wondering why I’m here.” Bam! I’m leveled to a complete halt when she finally looks my way. “Breakfast on exchange day isn’t part of the deal if that’s what you’re wanting.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Why am I here?”
“I wanted to talk to you about Alfie.”
“That could have been done over the phone or through text.”
Her defenses are sky high, making me doubt my decision to ask her to work with me, much less to breakfast this morning. “I thought it would be easier to talk face to face.”
“What do you want to talk about?” she snaps.
“Maybe we should talk when you’re in a better mood.”
“Don’t you get it? I’m not going to be in a better mood. I never planned for any of this.”
Rolling my eyes, I sigh. “Tell me about it.”
My comment strikes her, not like the quip I intended it to be but as a missile that hits its target. She leans forward and that ire in her eyes softens into something kinder. “I’m sorry. That was insensitive of me. I realize you’ve been dealing with more of a shock and adjustment than I have.” Her gaze disappears into the distance, and she exhales, releasing the tension that was keeping her shoulders firmly squared since she sat down. “I’m just dealing with a lot, and I’m tired.”
“You can talk to me, Hannah. You think you can’t, keeping up pretenses like we’re on opposing sides, but we’re not. We both want what’s best for that little boy. That’s being on the same side. As for how that’s done, we’ll figure it out. In the meantime, the woman before me is not the woman I’ve been getting to know. Your sadness has changed.”
“To what?”
She looks at me as if I can solve her problems with a simple answer. I can’t, but I can do my best. “Distraught. You’ve been itching to leave since you got here, but I don’t think I’m causing the pain you’re dealing with.” I dare to slide my hand across the table until the tips of my fingers are touching the tips of hers.
Her eyes watch and then stare as we sit in silence. When those beautiful eyes finally meet mine again, the fire is gone, but the smoke remains. “My aunt and I have been fighting all week. Before she was testing my allegiance, telling me I might need to go back to Dallas, but this morning she told me I should.”
“What? No.”
“What do you mean no?”
Shit. “Alfie needs you . . .” I don’t want her to go. She’s the only thing that’s keeping this situation sane. I’m a fool for even considering what I’m about to do, much less doing it. Have I let my feelings get so caught up in her that I’ll risk exposing them to take her side? Yes. “So do I.”
“So do you, what?” Surprise followed by amusement fills her questioning eyes, reversing her bad mood. “You need me?”
“Yes. That’s why I asked you here.”
“Oh. Ummm . . . I’m not sure we should talk about this. I told you before that we can’t be together. I mean, just because, you know, we like it doesn’t mean we should.” Her fried eggs suddenly become her whole world; her attention dedicated to the cold food as she rambles. “It would be complicated.” As she moves her eggs around with her fork, I spy blue eyes under long lashes taking me in. “And I’m not sure how to—”
I put her out of her misery. Signaling between us, I say, “I didn’t mean to talk about us. Us.”
“Not us?”
“No.”
Her hand is pulled back, and her head drops down in humiliation. “God, I’m such a fool.”
“No, you aren’t. I’m sorry if I made you feel—”
Snapping upright, she’s quick with the reply, “No, you didn’t make me feel anything.”
“Okay . . .” This girl’s got a chip on her shoulder like none other I’ve ever seen. It protects her from the bad, but I’m starting to wonder if it keeps out the good as well. “As you know, we fly to LA today, but before I go, I wanted to talk to you about Alfie. We signed the contract.” If I’m not mistaken, despite all the combative snips that have come my way, I see joy in her expression. It must be exhausting to be here some days. Holding onto anger seems to be her specialty, but she can’t hold onto it around me for long. The cracks in her armor are growing, which benefits me. I prefer her smile more than her scowl any damn day.
That little piece of joy I found a moment earlier disappears. “You’re leaving Alfie? You can’t come into his life and then vanish like he doesn’t matter.”
“I wouldn’t. Thanks for the thinking the best of me, though,” I say, letting my words drip with sarcasm.
“What do you plan to do then?”
“I’ve been thinking about it. Also because Alfie will say something if I don’t.”
“Just tell me, Jet.”
“He lost his mother. I don’t want him to feel like he’s losing me as well. I also don’t want him to lose you. To add to the complication, I don’t want him flying back and forth all the time.”
“Neither do I.”
Here goes everything . . . “This trip is only a few days, but when it’s time, I’ve been told we’ll be out for three weeks to a month to record. We’ll play them the songs we currently have, and if they approve of those for the release, the recording sessions will be during the sixty day period to add the last four to six.”
“You just said you weren’t going to abandon him.”
“I’m not. We’ve come up with an idea. What if you were to take care of him full time?”
“What?” Her head shakes as if the idea is incomprehensible, then she asks, “How does that fix the problem of you leaving? That’s exactly what you’ll be doing to him—leaving him.”
I’m smart enough not to tell a woman to calm down when she’s fired up. I slip on my kid gloves and proceed with caution. “You and Alfie would come to LA.” Mouth open.
Eyes wider than the plate in front of her.
Cogs turning so fast that I expect to see smoke come out of her ears.
Still so damn beautiful. I’m almost tempted to kiss that stunned look right off her face, but I like my dick the way it is—not kicked in—so I stay on track as much as I can. “There’s only two months of school left. I looked into a homeschool program for this year that will keep him on track to start back in the fall.” I can’t take all the credit for that one. Rivers mentioned homeschooling, but I did the research.
A furrow anchors her brow, and I can’t read her. “I don’t even know what to say. I can’t afford to take off to LA to follow your dreams.”
“You would be there to take care of Alfie.”
“I have no money, Jet.”
I hate using information against her, but in this case, I take the chance it will allow her to see the opportunity instead of the negativity. “You said your aunt told you to go back to Dallas. I assume you don’t have a job anymore, maybe not even a place to live. I’m offering you a job, Hannah. I’ll pay you a salary and your expenses. You’ll have your own room and time off. When I’m not recording or doing business, I’ll be with Alfie.”
Hands are waving. It’s always quite the sight when she gets flustered, and I’ve thrown a real curveball at her this time. “Wait. Wait. Wait. You want to pay me to watch Alfie?”
“Yes.” As the idea settles between us, I wait anxiously to hear what she says next.
“You know I would take care of him for free.”
“I do.”
“But I n
eed a job, and if I get one somewhere else, that means I can’t watch him whenever I want, only on my time off.”
“That’s not good.”
“No, it’s not. How much are you offering to pay?”
“I was thinking we could figure it out together.”
“The minimum is three weeks? The maximum is one month?”
“I can’t guarantee the timeline until I learn more from this trip.”
Staring toward the front door of the diner, her thoughts aren’t anywhere near here. That she’s still here, though, is a good thing, and that she’s considering the idea even better. “Apparently, I owe my aunt a thousand dollars for my share of the bills and rent the past couple of months. The free ride was only temporary. This would allow me to pay her back. Will the pay cover what I owe and next months’ bills?”
“Wait, back up. Why do you owe your aunt money?”
“For my share of living expenses.”
“But you came here to help Cassie and Eileen with Alfie.”
Exasperation comes in the form of a sigh. “I know. Look, Jet, I know you think she’s horrible, but Cassie was her life. Alfie is a tie to that life. She loves him and is scared he’ll be taken from her forever—”
“By his father, someone else who loves him.”
“I get it. I do. I promise you I do. It’s been part of the problem. If I defend you at all, she thinks I’m on your side.”
Sides? There are those fucking sides again. “We’re all on Alfie’s side. We all want what’s best for him.”
“I know, and I agree with you. Eileen, on the other hand . . . forget it. As for this job, if I could afford to, I’d do it for free.”
“You do a lot for Alfie, and he notices. He’s actually the one who suggested I ask you.”
Waves of brown hair fall to the side with her head resting in her hand. “I’m not sure what to say, Jet.”
“Say yes.” Yes. Yes to the job. Yes. Yes to me.
“Why do you want me? I understand how it benefits Alfie—having both of us beats a stranger. But you’ll be stuck with me—in the mornings, cramping your nights, bugging you on your days off. You’ll be stuck with me all the time if I’m living with you.” As if it just sinks in, she says, “Oh my God. You said I’d have a room. We’ll be living together?”
Well, she doesn’t look disgusted, so I’ll take the compliment. “I’m getting an advance, but not enough to rent two places.”
“What happens when you bring someone home?”
“Someone?” My eyebrows shoot straight up. “A girl?”
For someone who thinks so poorly of me, she sure does look hurt by the thought of me with another woman. “You think I fuck anyone who offers?” I’m not hurt by her assumption, but it does disappoint me. “Don’t worry about it, honey. I can keep my dick to myself when I’m caring for my kid.”
“I didn’t mean to suggest—”
“You know exactly what you meant, and so do I.”
“Let me ask you, Hannah, have you fucked anyone since we fucked?”
“Is that what we did?”
“I didn’t think so until now.” I catch the waitress’s eyes. That’s all I was to her. A quick fuck. Okay. Lesson learned. “Check please.”
“Jet, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insinuate—”
“What did you mean then?”
Following a long exhale, she leans forward resting her arms on the table, and whispers, “You can. You can do whatever you want. You don’t owe me anything. I was just saying if you want to have company, I’m not sure where we’ll go.”
“I won’t have company, so there’s nothing to worry about.”
Regrets color her cheeks as if embarrassment has taken over. What does she have to be embarrassed about or regret? Maybe us? Probably.
“I have no right to ask anything of you. I know I’ve been hot and cold with you, but it’s not for the reasons you think. I told you I don’t want to talk about our time together—”
“When we fucked?” I’m surprised she doesn’t get whiplash from making sure no one else in the place is listening. Fuck it. I have nothing to lose. To deepen that blush that’s crawling up her chest and neck and heading north to her cheeks, I say, “I don’t remember you being so shy when you were naked in my bed.”
“When you say things like that . . .” She sighs, but I see how her chest rises and falls deeper than before. “Jet, we can’t do this—you and I—we’re not in a place where we can ever happen.” Get it together, Crow. She doesn’t want to be in this situation if the sad expression in her eyes is to be believed. God, this woman. Why does she affect me so much?
Reaching across the vinyl tabletop, I take her hand in mine, and she doesn’t pull away. In fact, she stays and her fingers curl around mine. “We’re only rivals because of some fucked-up situation we’ve found ourselves in. We spent time together in the most intimate way two people can, and you walked away. Now I know why.”
“I don’t even know why.”
“You had so much on your plate already with the pressure of holding a family together that was falling apart. I get it.”
“I know it won’t make a difference now, but I wanted to be carefree that night. I wanted to forget that Cassie was dying before my eyes and that my aunt was drinking herself into oblivion. I didn’t want to see the sadness in Alfie’s eyes anymore. I wanted to feel free from everything that night, and you did that for me.” Her hand tightens briefly around mine. “That night has meant more to me than you know. I got to be me again, even if it was just for one night.”
“I wish I would have known.”
“I wish I would have known who you were back then.”
“I’m glad you didn’t, or we wouldn’t have had that night.”
A genuine smile appears, not one filled with the pressures of a custody battle or a threat of having to move. Her smile is one that finds comfort in the company she keeps.
Unfortunately, her hand slides back to her side of the table, and we’re back to being on opposite sides again. “If I come with you and Alfie, it can only be for him, and to help you out. That’s it.”
“That’s reasonable. A little disappointing,” I say, giving her a wink, “but reasonable.”
Scooping a forkful of food, she takes a big bite, mulling the idea while she eats. I’m not sure if I should push my luck by talking or just wait her out. Silence is king, so I wait her out.
Half a glass of orange juice and a full piece of bacon later, she sets her fork down and rests her arms on the table. “I’ll do it.”
“You’ll do it?”
“Yep.”
“We didn’t even discuss salary.”
“Jet,” she starts, leaning closer. “You’ve caught me at a great time. I don’t have many options, and you’re offering me a job to do something I love, spending time with Alfie. Bonus, I’ll have my expenses covered. It may only be for a month, but it’s a month I get to spend with him. How can I say no?”
Even though I knew I was helping her out when I decided to suggest this job, selfishly, I also knew I’d get more time with her too. See how selfless she is—she could probably get a job paying more than I do, but here she is sacrificing herself for her little cousin. I kind of feel like an asshole now. Right then, I realize I have to give her the respect she deserves for giving up so much for him, and now for me. “Thank you. I appreciate it more than you know, but Alfie will be over the moon.”
The waitress approaches to refill our coffee cups. Hannah adds cream and sugar and stirs casually, her demeanor so different from earlier. “Since Cassie has passed, I need to be there for Alfie. If that means putting my life on hold to help hold his together, so be it.”
“Cassie would want you to have a life, Hannah.”
The waitress drops off the ticket and takes my card.
“I don’t matter . . . he does. He has a chance.”
“A chance at what?”
Her tone hardens like her gaze. “Nothing. L
et’s just focus on the job.”
She’s done. It’s clear there’s no use trying to open something up that she’s already put the lid on. I drink my coffee, hoping to clear the lump in my throat that formed when she became upset.
I’m shadowed when the waitress returns with my card. I sign the receipt and look up and straight into the cloudy eyes of Hannah.
With her chin tilted high and the chip on her shoulder back in place, she says, “If you have a chance, let me know when you land in LA.”
I’ve been known to have a cocky side, and Hannah Nichols brings it out in me. “Why is that?”
She rolls her eyes. “Why do you make this so hard?”
“Speaking of making things hard—”
“God, you’re incorrigible, Jet Crow.”
“Jet will do.”
Another eye roll, a little more epic, is her first response as she stands up. The second is her saying, “I worry. That’s all. There. Are you satisfied?”
The way her waist dips in and her hips curve out, she affects me in ways that I’m apparently supposed to suppress. This is going to be a struggle. “Satisfied isn’t quite the word I’d choose.”
This time I see a little of the woman I met that night at the bar—the one who escaped her life and entered mine. The one I’ve left a door open and maybe my heart for as well. But I don’t want to get ahead of myself or scare her off.
Any needs I have come secondary. If she’s offering to help us, even if for a short time, I’ll back off like she wants and take what I can get.
With her hands on the table, she leans down and whispers, “So this deal means we’re in bed together once again. Speaking purely business wise.”
The waitress walks by with a pot of coffee in hand but stops to hip bump Hannah. “Stake that claim, girlfriend.”
I chuckle. Hannah doesn’t. And then she does, not able to hide her embarrassment. “She thinks we’re sleeping together.”
Popping my imaginary collar, I smirk—good and smug—just how she likes. “Nothing wrong with that.”
