Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 58045 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58045 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
The smile I force my lips into is a farce. We came before the dinner rush, so there’s practically no one else here. “Yeah, everything’s good.” My mother doesn’t need to deal with this mess. It’s mine to clean up. So I do everything I can to appease the worry in her gaze.
I take a casual glance at my phone, expecting to see something worse from Travis. The number on the screen isn’t his, though. It’s a number I don’t have saved in my phone.
Unknown: This is Mr. Cross’s associate. If you come in, you’ll be working exclusively for Mr. Cross from now on. I realize this is an occupational change that is unexpected. If you’d rather resign, please let me know.
Holy fuck. What? My head spins as I sit across from my mother, attempting to hide every reaction. I don’t know what to think. Blinking rapidly, and surrounded by nothing but fresh air, it’s still nearly impossible to catch my breath. My heart hammers as I reread the message, making sure I understand exactly what the hell is happening. Working exclusively for Mr. Cross. Is it because I couldn’t cut it as a waitress, or … because of that kiss?
If you’d rather resign … That doesn’t sit well with me. Instantly, I’m on high alert.
“The blood just drained from your face, nena. What is going on?” My mother’s dark eyes meet mine from across the table. With wide eyes I stare back at her. I’ve never been able to hide a thing from my mother.
It doesn’t seem prudent to mention the Cross brothers, though. It does feel like lying, but she doesn’t need to know. She’ll worry herself to death. Especially when I don’t have the first clue what this is about. I turn my phone over so the screen doesn’t show.
“Travis has been messaging me.” I offer up the alternative truth. It’s a relief to be honest with her and it makes my heart sink to omit any part of it.
She curses under her breath in Spanish, sweeps her napkin up from the table, then throws it back down. The wrinkles around my mother’s eyes show her age but also her worry. I hate that look on her. It kills a part of me that knows I’d be in a better place in my life if only I’d listened to her years ago.
“No, Mama, it’s okay.” I’m quick to reach across the table and grab her hand. “Really. It’s okay.” With my hand over hers I stress, “I can handle it.”
Her bottom lip drops as if she’ll say something, but she decides against whatever it was. Instead, she shakes her head, her short bob swaying with the movement. “I’m telling your uncle.”
Her stern voice sets off that same response it has since I was a child.
My words are rushed when I tell her, “Don’t do that. No one needs to get involved.” Pulling her hand away, she shakes her head again, staring down at her cup of tea that’s most certainly gone cold now.
“He needs to leave you alone.” Her voice goes breathless when she says it, and my heart breaks.
“Mama.”
She doesn’t want me to be hurt. She wasn’t convinced that me moving out of her house was the best idea, but I had to do it. I’m twenty-five. I need to move on. I had to make something of myself. I couldn’t hide in her house forever.
“Can we eat? Please? Our food will be here any second. I’ll block his number.” Again. She doesn’t know I’ve already blocked it before. And she doesn’t need to know either.
It’s always going to be “again” with Travis, isn’t it? He’ll keep pushing, demanding, attempting to control me and hold on to whatever part of my life he can. He’ll always be an asshole and I’ll keep blocking him, because what else can I do? Over and over until he finally loses interest and lets me get on with my life.
“If anything worries me, if he says anything else or … or tries anything else, I will tell you.”
Another text comes in. We both avoid looking at the phone for as long as we can, but finally Mama sighs. “Is that him?”
She takes her hand back and watches as I pick up the phone.
“No. It’s not him. It’s my friend from work. The one who got me the job.” Mama knows of Scarlet, but she’s only met her a time or two.
“Does she know about Travis?”
Scarlet: OMG! I just heard you’re being moved to personal assistant … he must really like you!!
“She knows about Travis,” I tell my mom. She knows everything. Scarlet’s known me long enough to understand why I needed a job and to be financially independent. Scarlet knows why I have to get my feet under me and make my own life … far away from my ex.