Page 37 of Single Girl in the City
“I have some good news. I got another job so I can have my half of the mortgage by the end of the week.”
Dotti sat at the island, arms folded on the countertop, head resting on her hands. “Only strippers make that kind of money in a week. And you don’t have the skills, so what is this new job?”
“I’m a substitute.”
“And what kind of substitute makes a grand in one week?”
“A substitute manager slash bartender slash businesswoman extraordinaire?”
“Did you put a question mark at the end of that?”
Abi picked up a rag and started doing the piles of dishes. “Because I haven’t officially landed it, but I know I will.”
Dotti lifted her head and shot a look Abi’s way that had her shifting her weight. “Would this manager slash bartender slash businesswoman extraordinaire be at Stout, working for a man who has no idea who you are?”
Even though she had been a stupid seventeen-year-old, she made a decision that altered an entire family’s world. And all for selfish reasons.
“When are you going to tell him?” Dotti asked.
She should have told him right away; it would have been easier. Now she’d dug a deeper hole and she knew that the moment she admitted the truth he’d kick her out of his life and then how would she make his world easier?
The countdown had already begun. Abi was leaving at the end of next month for Thailand, where she’d hopefully find her footing in teaching again, so what was the harm in waiting another few weeks?
“I need to get right with the universe first.”
As if Fate herself had come down and given Abi a high-five to the forehead, there was a knock at the door. Without even peeking through the window, she knew who it was.
“Aren’t you going to answer that?” Dotti asked.
“You’re closer,” she accused.
When she didn’t move, Dotti rolled her eyes, then went to look out the peephole. “The universe is telling you that it’s time to spill the beans.”
Abi backed away from the door. “I like my beans just where they’re at. In a can. And everyone knows what happens when you open a can of beans.”
“It’s worms. A can of worms.”
“To-may-to, to-mah-to.”
“I can hear you,” a voice came through the door. A panty-melting voice that was laced with humor. “I know you have work at the tea shop in an hour. I can wait you out or you can answer the door.”
Before Abi could climb out the window, Dotti swung open the door. “Morning. I guess I’ll leave you two to it.” And Dotti walked away, disappearing into the burrow of the house while Koi followed, dragging Lemon-Marie around like a caveman. Leaving Abi alone with Owen.
“Cute kids.”
“You should ee them during a sugar rush.”
He was looking fine in a pair of jeans that hugged his muscular thighs, a fitted black shirt that had the bar’s logo on the front andeastonacross the back like a jersey, and a ball cap pulled low on his head. She, on the other hand, was in bare feet, bedhead, and an oversized T-shirt. No bra. No bottoms.
He seemed a little edgy and a little conflicted, and just looking at him got her hot and bothered in places she shouldn’t be hot and bothered.
His gaze tracked from her eyes to her toes, and she knew when he figured out she wasn’t wearing a bra. She crossed her arms over her chest.
“You just made my morning,” he said, and she glanced down to see that her shirt had stretched over her respectable Bs, showcasing that her nipples were hard.
“It’s cold.”
“If you say so.”
