Chapter 34
Chapter Thirty-Four
Hannah
“So he’s living with you now?” Josie asks. “Don’t you think things are moving a little fast?”
I shrug. “In a way, yes. I don’t know. It’s not the normal situation between us. The way we hooked up sort of amplified things.”
“Is he the reason there’s a goon following me to and from work now?”
“He’s making sure we’re safe,” I defend. “It’s just while things settle with a situation with his work.”
“Are we in danger?” Her eyes widen. “I didn’t sign on for this shit.”
“He’s just being overly protective. It comes with the territory of what he does.”
“Is this all worth it? Is he good?” Josie asks in a teasing voice as she pulls a tired bouquet out of the cooler and dumps the water in my industrial sink.
I have the usual anxious feeling in the pit of my stomach that I always have when she’s working, but even so, I’m relieved to hash through the details of Armando with her.
My eyelids flutter. “So good. Like three times yesterday and once this morning good.”
“Oh damn. That’s so hot. So is it like… an arrangement? Like you pimped yourself out for the rent? Or what?”
I hurl a dead rose at her head. “Bitch, I did not whore myself out. He just offered to pay the rent. And I accepted the offer.”
“Mmm hmm. And how did that go down, exactly?”
Okay, crap. I can’t tell her the real story. “All right, yeah, I pimped myself out,” I mumble, like I’m coming clean.
Josie’s eyes pop. “Oh, that’s hot. I think that’s so hot. And he just ponied up the money and said get in my bed, bitch ?”
I snort-laugh. “Yeah, just like that.”
Josie eyes me with unveiled curiosity. She’s as tall as I am short—six foot one, and the shortest of all her siblings.
And yes, they all played basketball. Her family immigrated from Brazil when she was four.
Dark-skinned like me, she’s beautiful, with bleached-blonde hair blooming in a halo around her head.
She’s the reason I bleached the ends of my curls although I didn’t go quite as light as she did.
She cocks her head. “I can’t decide what I think about all this.”
“What do you mean?” I may sound slightly defensive.
“I don’t know. You look happy. Happier than you have in a while. But this is so out of character for you, I feel like I might need to call an intervention or something.”
My face grows warm. “I like him, Jos.”
She points a stern finger at me. “Don’t tell him that. And do not cry! Please tell me you haven’t already cried.”
I cringe a little. Josie knows how relationships always end for me.
We’ve been friends since high school—and there’s definitely a pattern.
I get attached too quickly—assign too much meaning to things.
Then I blurt, “I love you!” or some other such clingy thing.
Or I burst into tears or somehow over-emote about something, and then it’s over.
The guy hightails it away from me. I’m way too much for him.
“Well, I did cry,” I admit. “—It was after sex, though!” I add quickly when Josie shoots me the It’s all over look.
“Uh huh. And how did that go?”
“Um.” I consider. “Actually not horrible. He rolled with it. Like he didn’t seem to think it was that big a deal.
” Now that I’m saying it, I’m surprised.
Why didn’t he get uncomfortable or try to fix it or think I was nuts?
“I don’t know…maybe women routinely cry after sex with him,” I joke, but thinking of him having sex with other women makes the words turn sour in my mouth. “He is that good.”
Josie puts her hands on her hips. “When was this?”
The cringey feeling returns. “Yesterday… maybe the day before that too.” And this morning, he abruptly ended our joined-at-the-hip thing.
He left while I was still asleep in bed.
Just kissed my forehead and said he had to go to work.
Like it was no big deal, and I hadn’t just been his prisoner for days.
He told me a man would be outside the shop all day, and to not leave without someone with me.
But he wasn’t sitting on me anymore. He told me he’d check in later as a normal couple would do.
I’d been thinking it meant he finally trusted me, but maybe it was the crying. Or me. Being too much, as always. He was bailing.
The bells on the door jingle and Jack, the FedEx guy comes in. “Package for you, young lady.” He beams at me in a fatherly way as he hands over a padded envelope. “You have to sign for this one.”
Perplexed, I sign his electronic clipboard and examine the package. I haven’t ordered anything since I don’t have any credit left on my credit card or cash in my bank account—unless I count the money Armando put there.
I tear open the packaging to find a tiny jewelry box. “Oh wow.” My pulse quickens. He bought me a gift.
A gift.
That means something, doesn’t it?
Josie makes an excited humming sound. “Somebody likes you.”
“Oh wow,” I murmur again, prying open the small lid with trembling fingers. “Wow.” It seems to be the only word I remember how to say. I crack open the box. Inside is a gold nose ring with a diamond on the end.
Josie snatches up the certificate that came with it. “Eighteen carat gold with a conflict-free VVS diamond.” She looks up at me. “ Dayum . He definitely likes you.”
I can’t stop the stupid smile that plasters my face.
He likes me.
It’s a thoughtful gift. It fits me. It’s not some stupid diamond heart necklace or other cliché jewelry. He bought something that I’d like and wear. I slip out my plain gold ring and put in the diamond. “How’s it look?”
Josie grins. “It’s perfect.”
“Yeah, it is.” Of course he would’ve ordered this a couple days ago if it arrived today, so it’s no guarantee he’s still into me, but I suddenly feel much more hopeful that we have a chance.
I definitely want us to have a chance.
But I shouldn’t start assigning meaning to things. This is how every relationship goes wrong for me.
I look over at Josie, thinking this would be a good time to talk to her about how her working here could use some adjustment. Now, while we’re comfortable and close.
“Listen, Josie…”
“Hm?”
“Um, I was wondering… how do you like working here?”
She peers at me, a touch of alarm on her face. Butterflies flap their wings wildly in my belly. Up my esophagus. Into my throat.
“I like it, why?” Is it me, or does she sound nervous?
“Oh, um, I…” Christ! I’m a stammering fool! “Good. I’m glad. Just checking.” I turn and flee to the workshop.
Great. That went well. Gah. I’m so not cut out to run this business on my own!
I need a breath of fresh air and step outside into the alley. I see Marco leaning against the wall, scrolling through his phone.
“Hey, Marco,” I say, feeling both odd and protected that he is here. “Armando told me one of your men would be here today. I wasn’t expecting you.”
“I don’t mind.” He glances up from his phone and smiles. Marco looks a lot like Armando—the bloodline visibly thick between the two. So much so that I’m missing him already and hoping he’ll call me soon. “I like feeling out the situation first.”
“Oh yeah?” I lift an eyebrow and ask, “What do you feel about the situation?”
“My cousin likes you. A lot.”
My heart flutters, and my breath hitches. “He does?”
“He does.” Marco tilts his head and seems to scrutinize every inch of my face. “He’s never taken anyone to church before.”
I didn’t know that, but I like hearing it.
“I’m assuming the feeling is mutual?” he asks.
My face feels as if it’s a hundred degrees. My palms are sweaty, and I suddenly wish I had a cigarette. I don’t smoke, but at least I’d have something to do, so I wouldn’t feel so awkward simply standing in the alley with a man I barely knew.
“It’s mutual.”
“And do you know what that means?”
I look up and lock eyes with him.
“You understand the life Armando leads, right?”
I nod and focus my stare on my worn Converse. “I do.”
“It can’t be changed.”
“I have no desire to change him.”
Marco takes a step toward me and uses his finger to tilt my chin up, so I have to look into his eyes. He opens his mouth to talk, but my phone rings, interrupting us.
“It could be Armando,” I say, not recognizing the number, but hoping it’s him.
Marco nods to the phone for me to answer it.