Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 77309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
“Come inside.” I step aside and let her lug her suitcase through the door.
“Cute place.” She looks around as if she actually appreciates the simple decor. “Although kind of masculine.”
“I haven’t changed it much since my dad passed. He put all this stuff up.”
If that bothers her at all, she doesn’t show it. “Ah, that makes sense.” She plops down in the kitchen with a sigh. “Got any wine? The flight attendant was a tight-ass and wouldn’t serve me.”
“Sorry, kid. You’re only nineteen and we card in this house.”
He rolls her eyes. “Fine, I’ll just beg old men outside liquor stores until one of them thinks I’m cute.”
“Uh, you do that?”
“Works most of the time, except for when they think you’re a hooker, then things get dicey. Hey, for real, you got an extra room?”
“Yes, I do, but are you sure this is okay? I don’t want to start anything with your father.”
And I really don’t want to make her my responsibility.
“Please, that old asshole’s just happy I’m out of his hair again.” She nudges her bag with her foot. “I keep this baby packed at all times when I’m back under his roof, just in case. Always comes in handy.”
“That… doesn’t seem healthy.”
“Whatever. His election is all that matters to him right now.” She stares down at her hands, and for a second, I’m reminded that she’s a vulnerable nineteen-year-old kid. Clearly there are some issues going on with her family, and she needs support.
Maybe the chaos is her way of acting out for attention. All she wants is her father to pay attention to her, but if she can’t get that, she might as well party, do drugs, drink alcohol, and sleep with older men.
What a freaking nightmare.
“Okay. You can stay here. But not forever, and I want you to call your dad and tell him where you are.”
“I’ll text his assistant, okay?”
“Sure. Great compromise.” I point at her bag. “Also, no drugs. I’d tell you not to drink but I suspect you’ll just ignore me, so I’m being reasonable here. No drugs.”
“Deal.” She beams at me, taps at her phone screen, and slams it face-down. “So, what happened with Con? Tell me the deets.”
“Uh,” I say, not sure I’m ready for that. “How about we get you settled first?”
She doesn’t argue for once. I lead her upstairs, show her the guest room, get her fresh towels and sheets, and leave her alone to get settled. I pace back and forth in the kitchen, staring at my phone screen, wondering if I should call Conlan to let him know what’s going on with Allison.
But he’s not a part of this anymore. She’s not here because of him—this is about Allison only. There are no private detectives lurking around, no media appearances, no rumors to squash. She’s just a smart young girl with too much money and not enough structure, and I’m pretty sure telling Conlan will only make things worse.
She comes downstairs not long later in sweats with her hair pulled up in a messy bun. “Don’t you feel lonely living in this place all alone?” she asks, stretching out on the couch. “It’s pretty nice.”
“Not really,” I say, sitting by her feet. “I grew up in this house, so I guess it doesn’t bother me. It was always me and my dad back then, just the two of us.”
“And now it’s just you.” She frowns at the look on my face. “Sorry, was that a mean thing to say?”
“No, it’s fine, it’s the truth.” I take a deep breath. “Allison. Why did you come here?”
“I heard you were back at your old place and thought you’d have a couch to crash on. Clearly, I was right.”
“No, I mean, why did you come to me? I’m sure you have close girl friends or whatever.”
“Not really.” She’s looking at her nails. “I have friends, sure, but not many that would let me stay with them. And the guys would all expect something, you know? At least a blowjob or whatever, and I’m not interested in sucking dick for room and board at the moment. If it comes to that, fine, but I am a dick-free zone for now.”
“Oh,” I say, trying to understand how a girl her age talks about giving head so casually when I’m too uptight to even daydream about having sex without feeling at least a little shame.
“And I figured, you were nice to me before, and you might be nice to me again. Plus, I like you.”
“I like you too.” I give her my best, most confident smile. “But you can’t stay forever.”
She laughs, waving that away. “Like you’ve got anything else going on.”
“I’m very busy. I’ve been applying for jobs.”
“Wow, amazing.” She yawns again. “I’m so impressed. You really have it together, huh?”
“Hey, you’re the homeless one here, don’t start giving me crap for being unemployed.”