Chapter Seven
Callie
Why in God’s name does it hurt so much that he wants me out of here? I rub at my chest as I walk back to the garage, ready to get this work done so I can move the fuck on. I’m not wanted here, that much is clear. I may even be able to get the last work done today if I can avoid any more distractions.
I have a metric ton of shit to do once I leave this place. I need to find an apartment and a job. I know my asshole boss will have already replaced me. He wasn’t keen on having me there in the first place.
“You know he didn’t mean anything by it,” Alceu says as I walk by his office.
I fully consider ignoring the mafia boss, but my feet stop moving and I know I will listen to whatever he has to say.
“He’s right,” I say when I step inside his personal space and face him. “I need to get back to my own lift.”
Alceu nods. “If that is what you want.”
“It is.” I nearly choke on the damn words, but I know this needs to be done. “I should be done with your car later tonight or sometime tomorrow.”
I don’t wait for his reply before walking away. I have work to do and standing around chatting to a man I’ll probably never see again isn’t conducive to progress. Neither are the thoughts swimming through my mind. It has been less than a week, how the hell can I already be sad about having to leave this place and these people behind?
I walked out on my fiancé, home, and one of my only friends without a second thought, yet these people have me all twisted up inside. Maybe it’s because they accepted me as is, not wanting me to be more of a lady or something I’m not. But I think it’s really about the way they treat each other. I’ll even miss Severu, if only because I’ve never had so much fun being bitchy to someone in my entire life.
Entering the garage, I release a sigh of relief, glad to find the space void of anyone else. But that relief doesn’t last. I haven’t even picked up a single tool when my next distraction walks in. Or should I say waddles.
“Callie!” Jennifer, Guilia and Alceu’s little girl, calls out.
“What do you want, munchie?” I ask, watching her skirt around the other vehicles.
“Can we swim?”
“I don’t know, can you?” She stares at me before nodding. “Do you want me to come swim with you?”
“Please,” she begs, batting those big brown eyes at me.
“What did your momma say?”
She shrugs and I can’t help but laugh at the four-year-old little girl. She is so cute. She has also decided she likes me. I know I should say no to her and get onto what I should be doing but I just can’t.
“Fine. But only for a little bit. And only if your momma says it’s okay.”
She claps her hands excitedly before holding her arms above her head, the universal signal for pick me up. I grab her up, pop her on my left hip, and head back into the house I just left. It takes a couple of minutes, but I find Guilia in her bedroom.
“What’s up, lady?” she asks with a smile, acting like the scene in the kitchen never even happened.
“You daughter guilted me into swimming with her.”
She laughs softly while she shakes her head. “She has a way of getting people to do what she wants.”
“I realized,” I say sarcastically.
“At least she isn’t trying to help you with the car again.”
She tried that yesterday. All she did was get dirty and make everyone who saw her laugh. But she was so proud of the single bolt she “tightened” that I would gladly let her back in there again.
“Let me get her in a suit and we’ll meet you by the pool. Andrea should have something in your size.”
She calls out for her sister and shortly the younger woman joins us. Guilia explains the situation and within five minutes, I’m dressed in the skimpiest, bright white bikini I have ever seen.
“You can keep that,” Andrea says. “It makes me look even paler. But your dark skin looks stunning against the white.”
And that’s what is making this so hard. For every asshole in this house there are two people that make staying worth it.