Page 32 of Atticus
“I have a better idea. Do you have any plans?”
“Me?”
“No, girl, your mama. Yes, you!”
“I’m attending a middle school football game with Atticus and this new friend of mine, Trey, the school resource officer.”
“Anything next weekend?”
“No, nothing.”
“How about you fly out to stay in New Carnegie with me for a couple days? Get a good, healthy reset? You know I have a guest room. And you could surprise your parents. They’ll be delighted.”
I hesitate. “Plane tickets are so expensive right now. I really can’t spare the cash.”
“Believe me, I’m well aware you’re not earning anywhere close to what you deserve. Hang on.” She pauses the video feed, and I hear her nails clipping away at her smartphone’s screen, which alarms me.
“Amber? No. Don’t do it.”
“Too late.”
“Amber!”
Her phone makes a littledingand my own phone vibrates. She ordered two plane tickets so fast, I’ve got whiplash.
I stare at the receipts in shock. “You can’t just drop money like that!”
“I can, I will, and I do. It’s my money. I’ve got no man, no kids. I can do whatever I want. If it really bothers you, just consider it an early birthday present and Christmas present all rolled into one.”
Yeah, right. She’s still going to pile on the birthday and the Christmas gift and claim she forgot about the tickets. Most local reporters don’t make the kind of money she does, but I suppose it helps that her uncle owns the city’s entire media empire: online, TV, radio, the works. Not that she needs to benefit from any nepotism. She has the talent, the gusto, the drive to be the best of the best. She earns her keep and then some.
At any rate, there’s really no point in arguing with her, so I don’t even try. “I don’t know what to say. Thank you. But who’s the second plane ticket for?”
She winks at me, that same sly smirk tugging at her full lips. “That’s for your delicious new friend. Bring Atticus with you, and we’ll see if he’s made of the right stuff.”
Bring Atticus on a plane with me? An android, like a regular passenger? Perhaps the rich do such things with their bionic valets and servants and whatever else, but me? I’m just a teacher—and he’s not evenmyproperty technically. Then again, I can’t see Carlisle pitching a fit over taking Atticus as far away from Vautrin as possible.
“And if he isn’t?”
She lets her rich waves of raven hair down. “Then we can hand him over to my Uncle Ramone and no one will even notice he’s gone.”
She’s joking, of course. With a Sicilian father and a Mexican mother, her haters love to claim she has crime syndicate connections on both sides and enjoy gossiping about her alleged mob family as a way to undermine her work. It isn’t true in the slightest. They didn’t see her long nights studying, how she’d turn down invitations to parties and outings to prepare to work on projects and assignments. Hell, I don’t think she had a single boyfriend that lasted more than a few weeks in college.Men just complicate my schedule, she’d say.
We giggle together before I hear the keys to my door jingling. “Well, I should let you go.”
“See you in a week! Give him my love, if you’ve gotten that far—and send me a photo of this redheaded tiger you’ve got jumping through flaming hoops. I must see if he isworthy.” Amber blows me a kiss and signs off.
Atticus shuts the door behind him, carrying a thrumming holo-bag heavy with my request. He studies me intently for a moment before sliding the gallon of raspberry tea into the fridge for me.
I try to be as innocent and unassuming as possible. “Thank you so much.” At least my gratitude is genuine. “I’ve been craving that all day.”
“Have you?” His smile is lopsided as if he knows something I don’t.
Uh-oh.What’s that look? It makes me nervous. I’ve never seen him display an expression like this before, and he does it sonaturally.
I toy with a braid. “Yeah, actually. No problems picking it up for me?”
“None at all.” Atticus is so amused by something, even the way he carries himself is different. Like he’s pleased with himself. “But I ought to tell you...”
