Page 287 of Hide and Keep

He breaks first to roll his eyes. “Oh my God. I was joking…kind of. But I meant from you. Only you.”

I’m in the middle of a breakdown right now and he’s making jokes.

I continue as if he didn’t interrupt me, saying, “I wanted to buy myself some new clothes, too.” At least that part is true. The only clothes I have are the ones on my body.

“You can wear anything of mine.”

“Not for interviews and stuff.” No one’s going to want to hire me in my schoolgirl outfit. At least no one I want to work for.

“You gotta fill out some applications before you go on interviews.”

He must think I’m such an idiot. Ifeellike such an idiot. Why did I think my father would continue to support me financially?

Because that’s the only way he’s ever supported me.

“Well, how am I supposed to do that looking like this?” I ask Crue. “I don’t even have makeup on.” Thankfully, no bruise ever fully formed from yesterday’s slap, and the swelling has already gone down, but that side could still use some coverage.

“You don’t need makeup to fill out forms online. You don’t need makeup, period. You’re naturally beautiful.”

He thinks I’m a beautiful idiot. A naturally beautiful idiot.

“Crue,” I say when he turns away, heading to his Bronco as if my life didn’t just implode before his eyes.

He stops to glance back at me. “What?”

“I think…” I shuffle from one stiletto to the other. “I’m poor.”

Crue plugs his nose, and in a nasally voice, says, “I thought I smelled something.”

I deserve that. And so much worse. I’ve been terrible, even when I was playing up my role as the Munreaux princess. I took things too far. Said things I had no business saying. I didn’t understand anything about anyone. I never even bothered putting myself in anyone else’s shoes to try.

I was a top-tier snob, just like my father.

“What am I supposed to do?” I ask both him and the universe because I don’t have the first clue. If nothing else, I always knew I could rely on having money.

Luckily, Crue drops his hand but doesn’t turn and run from me while he has the chance. I’m too defeated to run right now.

“Come home with me and let me feed you. We’ll figure out a game plan after. It’s only Saturday. We have the weekend to come up with something.”

“Can we shower, too?”

His lips spread into a cheesy grin. “To wash the stench of poor off you?”

“Actually, I have a couple bucks around here somewhere.” I pretend to check my pockets even though this skirt doesn’t haveany, then brandish my lovely middle finger for Crue, holding it up on my way past him to the Bronco’s passenger side.

With my ex-bodyguard too busy chuckling, I open my own door for once.

All noise stops as he comes over to immediately close it before I can even get in.

Bending so he’s right in my face, he says, “I don’t care how much money you do or don’t have, I get the door for you.”

Major Danger’s come a long way.

We have ourselves another tense stare-off until I say, “I love you, Major.”

“I love you, too, little bat,” he counters with the same no-nonsense tone, then opens the door and jerks his head to the side. “Now get your broke ass in the car.”

After Crue makes us egg-white omelets—that are only slightly runny in the middle—we migrate over to the living room sofa, using his laptop to search for job listings in the area with immediate availability.

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