Page 15 of Sugar Pie
My skin buzzed. “About what you walked into earlier?”
He winked at me and stepped back. “Your lack of clothes?”
“Yeah.”
His cheeks darkened. “I noticed you have no other clothes and are cleaning them daily.”
My face burned—the whole scene was how people died of embarrassment. I’d always thought that saying was overkill, but I was starting to second-guess that. I cringed. “I… this wasn’t what I meant.”
“We’ll buy you new clothes tomorrow. I’ll drive you to the store after work.”
He’d noticed. I’d never worried about buying myself anything—money had never been a problem before. I couldn’t look at him. “I’m used to having more…”
He massaged the back of his head and nodded. “Me too. I’m hoping as long as you’re here, we both ease into our new lives a little better.”
I breathed. It was better that we didn’t talk about my fantasy. We could only be friends. But I cupped his face, and a thrill rushed through me. I wished I was different and free. “Good night for real, Warren.”
He blinked slowly. “Night.”
When I closed the bedroom door a second time, I knew I would rest. Warren was one of the rare good guys out there, and I didn’t have anything to worry about, which was good because I had nothing to offer him or anyone until I figured myself out.
6
I’ve yet to find Warren Norouzi, so I’m hoping if I post a recent picture, anyone who has seen this man will let me know. And if you know him, tell him we’re on his trail.
Gossip and burn the rich.
Yours truly,
Regina, the gossip goddess you can’t escape from.
Warren
When I booked my place, I’d intended to know how my birth parents had lived, but my back was starting to hurt from sleeping on the couch. I wouldn’t complain because Kerry was in the bedroom, and keeping her safe made me feel better.
The couch was fine for the time being, but if we found a reasonably priced daybed, I would buy it.
The night before, when I closed my eyes, it wasn’t the sweetness of sipping the beer with her that plagued my thoughts. I kept reliving her tears the day we met. Then my imagination took over, and my lips and body were full of awareness and desire as I pictured her lips meeting mine. No woman in my life had ever captivated me enough to haunt me like that.
I woke before dawn, and the sun wasn’t up yet, so I scrolled my phone. My mind had gone blank the day I left Virgin Isle, and I forgot my laptop and iPad next to my bed there. If I bought new ones, that would eat into my budget, but it was hard to book anything or write out my business plan with just the phone.
I would figure it out and stop booking jobs online once my reputation was built and my name was out there.
My goal had been to start a business from scratch, to work with my hands and not use my Ivy League education, experience on Wall Street, MBA, or even my name for a year.
I quickly read the Mystery Regina blog that usually posted hateful things about my family but shrugged it off. I doubted she was on some personal mission looking for me. The musings of a faceless woman didn’t matter, anyway.
I bid on some more jobs, used the calendar app on my phone to schedule, and scrolled my phone for more jobs to try to win. Scheduling and tracking bids took longer than I would have liked.
Hiring Kerry would have been ideal, but she refused. I wouldn’t insist or pressure her, so I rubbed my eyes and found jobs.
My head spun from my emails, notes, and bids, and confirming some odd jobs and adding them to the schedule took at least an hour. Then the bedroom door opening interrupted me
Kerry blinked, and her face was white. I hoped she’d slept. “You’re up early,” she said.
I wanted to make her laugh, but I stood, stretched, and said, “I’m booking and bidding on jobs for tomorrow and next week and trying to scrounge up something for today. I need to be fast with getting a house, but I want to clean myself up first.”
She stepped out of the way and said, “Go for it. I wish there was a second door for the bathroom out here so we could share easier.”
