Page 91 of Laila Manning
“Why do you care?”
“Because you’re a kid. At the end of the day Kade, you’re a kid. And I’m trying to make sure you’re not being taken advantage of. So, who are you working for?”
He rolled his eyes with annoyance, “A rich lady in East Valley.” He huffed, “She has me do odds and ends around the property.”
“A rich lady?” I speculated, “Doesn’t she have staff for that?”
There wasn’t a single house in the Valley that didn’t have landscapers and handymen on staff. There were people milling around constantly.
“She doesn’t trust people in her home, she said.” He took another long drink of the tea, “It’s a cushy gig, I organize shit and get paid big time. She even got me new clothes, she said she couldn’t have riffraff going in and out of her home because she had an image to protect.”
“Kade, that sounds—”
“Don’t.” He snapped, leaning forward and holding my stare in a way that kids never did. “It’s not too good to be true. It’s just a good opportunity to get out of what I’ve been doing. That’s it.”
“I thought you liked the crew?” I questioned, “Wasn’t that why you freaked out on me.”
“No one likes selling drugs to low-lives on the street, Lady.” He scoffed, “And this new gig pays far better.”
I sighed, and he took his opportunity, standing up from his chair and tossing his half drank tea into the trash bin. “Look, I got to go. I’ve got places to be.”
“Okay, wait,” I rose and called after him, waiting for him to dramatically turn back. “Just know that if you need help with anything,” I said, “Come find me. No questions asked. I’ll always help. I promise.”
“Yeah right,” He waved me off, “Questions are your middle name, lady. K bye!”
He walked away, and I let him go. My stomach was gnawing at me to do something more, to stop him from leaving now that I had finally found him. But I didn’t. I watched him walk away, hoping to God that he was telling the truth and trying to find a way to make my body trust in someone else's words. If he said it was a good gig, why did I automatically think he was wrong?
Oh,yeah—experience.
I walked the path to Carly’s without so much as a trembling nerve or worried stomach in sight, even as I climbed the steps and knocked on her front door.
Was I healed? What did that term even mean? But I was finally happy.
Wait, was I? What the hell didthatterm mean?
“Come in, Laila.” Carly called, and I shook the thought from my mind as I walked in. Carly was in the kitchen, wiping down the countertop with a sweet little tune humming in her distraction. “Good morning, Sunshine.”
I paused, looking behind me and then smirking when she rolled her eyes at me. “You’re in a good mood this morning.”
“Make-up sex does that to a girl.” She shrugged, and then paused, cloth in hand, “I mean, hate sex does that to me too, and role-play sex—”
“Okay, we get it, you like sex.” I chuckled, taking a seat at the island instead of burrowing myself into the chair in the living room like usual. “What else is going on?”
“I’m actually leaving in a few for a nail appointment, want to come with me?” She asked. “You could get a manicure with me.”
“Thanks,” I eyed my bland natural nails compared to her fancy designed acrylics. “But I have to work in a little bit. Besides, all the dishes would chip the paint off in two seconds flat.”
She grimaced, “Still stuck on dish duty, huh?”
“For now,” I shrugged, “But I don’t hate it.”
Carly paused and held my stare. “I’m proud of you, you know that?”
I waved her off and slid from the stool, “Yeah, okay, the cleaning spray is going to your head.” I smirked as I walked back toward the front door. “Have fun with your nails!”
“’Kay bye!” She called with a chuckle.
As I left Carly’s cottage, I went toward the mansion; the day was just too beautiful to go back to the concrete building. Especially since Zeke was gone for the day working.
