45. Chapter 45
forty-five
Boston
I’m halfway to AJ’s when I realize I’ve been driving on autopilot, my mind nowhere near the road.
My hand tightens on the steering wheel as I drag my tongue over my bottom lip, as if I could chase the memory of Skye’s mouth on mine.
It’s been days, but none of it’s faded.
Not her. Not us. Not the way she said she loved me.
I exhale, shaking my head like that might clear her from my thoughts.
My phone buzzes in its holder mounted to my dash, snapping me back to the now.
I recognize the number immediately. Sasha Stanton.
The attorney helping me with the custody process.
I met her a couple of days ago and have spoken to her several times since then.
I can’t even begin to express how relieved I am to have someone on my side through this. Because, well, it’s complicated.
“Hey, Sasha,” I answer the phone. “It’s Saturday. Don’t you ever take a day off?”
She laughs on the other end. “Do you?”
“Fair point.”
“Do you have a moment or should I call back?”
“Now’s perfect. I’m driving, but you’re on speaker.”
She laughs again. “Okay, so I informed Social Services that you’re available to take custody of your siblings while we move through the guardianship process.”
My heart skips. I already know it won’t happen overnight, but just hearing it said out loud…
“They’ll be scheduling you for a kinship home study soon,” she continues. “They’ll check out your place, interview you, the usual. Once that’s done, we’ll file for a placement change. If all goes smoothly, Cassie and Bronx should be with you by Christmas.”
“That sounds great,” I say, still incredulous at how within my grasp it suddenly feels.
Obviously, I wish I could pick them up now, but there are still things I have to figure out.
I spent this last week trying to get my ducks lined up—looking up what it takes for me to get my GED, figuring out who's going to watch Cassie and Bronx on those inevitable times when Mrs. Davis comes calling, and hopefully transitioning away from my multitude of minimum wage jobs to one full-time position working for Skye’s mom.
With benefits, to boot. That’s the kind of thing I never let myself imagine.
Until now.
“Is there anything I need to do in the meantime?” I ask.
“Nothing other than keep your nose clean,” she says with a laugh.
I cringe. I haven’t forgotten about those fucking pictures Mrs. Davis snapped during her “girls’ nights” and the kind of damage she could do if she wished.
“I’ll be in touch as soon as I hear back from Social Services with a date for the home study,” Sasha adds.
Before I can respond, my phone lights up with another incoming call, one that makes me stupidly happy.
Skye.
“I really appreciate that, Sasha.”
“Absolutely. You have a good rest of your evening.”
“You, too. Bye.”
I don’t wait for her to say goodbye.
My grin’s already spreading as I switch over.
“Hey, Stormy.”
There’s a pause. Then her voice, soft and low: “Hey, Boss.”
It’s been my nickname all my life. The only one. But only Skye makes it sound like a melody.
“Whatcha doing?” I ask, pulling into the parking lot in front of AJ’s.
She groans. “I’m in full glam mode right now. Literally. My hair’s in curlers, Boss. I haven’t worn this much makeup in… ever. And I literally just got a delivery from Van Cleef. Archer had them send me some pieces from their fall collection.”
I blink. I don’t even know what that means. I assume Van Cleef’s some fancy brand? But of what, I have no idea. Could be shoes. Could be dresses. Could be sushi flown in from Japan for all I know.
Sometimes it still catches me off guard, just how different our lives are.
“Sounds like a lot of effort for dinner at the country club?”
I’m not trying to sound like an asshole, but I probably do anyway. Skye’s world—and Jake’s and my friends’ lives—always felt a little bit like a movie compared to mine.
“It is a lot of effort.” She sighs. “But I wish it was just dinner. It’s the Longfellow Family Spectacle tonight.
Archer’s dad is officially announcing he’s running for State Attorney General.
Archer’s oldest brother even flew in from New York.
Senator Lewellen will be there. Some big donors, I guess. Even Jake and his parents. Everyone.”
“Oh, I didn’t know he had aspirations like that.” The idea of Mr. Longfellow ascending to an even more powerful position makes my skin crawl.
“He’s talked about it for a while,” she says. “And with general elections next year, he’s officially starting to campaign. It’s going to be very hoity-toity tonight. All kinds of fancy people. Press, too…”
I smirk. “Huh, I’m offended I wasn’t invited. Stillwater’s most elite, all in one room, yet no Boston Rawlings?”
She giggles. “As far as I’m concerned, you dodged a bullet. I, for one, would rather be on your couch tonight than strapped into some silk designer gown I won’t be able to sit down in without passing out.”
Electricity shoots straight through me. “And what exactly would you be doing on my couch?”
There’s only a breath of a pause. “Not totally sure… but I guarantee I would not be watching TV.”
I laugh, the sound caught halfway between desire and disbelief. This whole thing between Skye and me—whatever the fuck it is—is so damn surreal.
“Are you free tomorrow?” I ask. “I’m getting Bronx and Cassie for a couple of hours, but maybe we can sneak in some couch time after?”
“I think that’s doable.”
I don’t have to see her to hear the smile in her voice.
“Alright. Well, if you’re able, call me after that shindig tonight,” I say. “Even if it’s late. I’ll answer.”
“I’ll try. I gotta go. Get back to turning myself into a living doll.”
I hate that she’s getting dressed up for Archer. That he’s the one who gets to take her to beautiful places, feed her five-star meals, wrap her in diamonds while I’m out here counting tips and letting women use me like I’m nothing.
But I try not to wallow.
“Have fun tonight, Stormy.”
I mean it. I want her to enjoy herself. Even if it hurts me.
“You, too, Boss. Think of me.”
Like that’s something she needed to tell me.