Page 14 of Hush Money
I suck in a slow breath.
I nod. He nods.
“Okay,” he says. “When do you work next?”
I think for a moment.
“I work at the diner tomorrow night. Then the office Monday through Friday.”
He cocks his eyebrow again.
“Office?”
“I work for the state. I’m a social worker,” I say. A small smile creeps over his perfect lips. “What?”
He shakes his head.
“Just always knew you’d be what you said you’d be. And I know you’re fucking amazing at it.”
I bite my lip.
“Okay,” he goes on, “I’m going to have one of our security guys bring you to and from work.” My eyes grow wide again. “It’s just precautionary. But that way, we know you’re safe. They will bring you to work, here, and anywhere else you want to go. I won’t tell anyone you’re here, if you don’t want me to. Take the time you need. You can breathe while you are figuring everything else out.”
I swallow.
Everything else.
Like my whole fucking life.
I nod.
“Thank you, Keat,” I whisper.
“I’d do anything for you, Eve,” he says with a smirk. He pats his lap then stands up from the table. “I have to meet my brothers soon, so I’m gonna shower. The kitchen is stocked, or feel free to order whatever you want for delivery.”
I nod and force a smile, but he sees through it. He bends down so our eyes are locked.
“You’re gonna be okay, Evie Rae Dawson,” he says with a wink. “I promise.” Then he bends down to leave a long, slow kiss on my forehead before turning on his heel and walking down the hall.
Evie Rae Dawson.
I’ll never forget the first time he called me Evie.
EVIE
“Genevieve Dawson,” Mr. McNeil calls out. I shudder internally.
I raise my hand.
“Here,” I mutter quietly. He marks me as present and keeps moving with the rest of the attendance. It’s my first day of high school, and I thought I felt out of place in middle school. But getting an academic scholarship to the ultra-expensive prep school where all of Manhattan’s richest kids go? That takes the cake. I saved up all my wages from working at the frozen yogurt place all summer so I could buy a few t-shirts and a single pair of jeans from Hollister, just in case I make some friends who want to hang out outside of school.
I’m thankful we all have to wear these stupid uniforms so that at least my non-designer clothes don’t give me away as a fraud.
I’m ahead of my grade level in just about every subject, and my advisor suggested I take a few classes over the summer so I could be even more ahead. I’m in advanced world history right now, and there is only one other freshman in this class.
And he happens to not only be the richest kid in Manhattan, but an Everett.
Which makes him a member of one of the wealthiest families on the entire planet.
