Page 8 of Gin & Jewels
I had a plan.
The morning I turned eighteen, I set my alarm so that I’d get to the bank right when it opened, and I could get the money as soon as it was deposited into my account. But when I got to the bank and had the teller bring up my account to withdraw the money, she stated that it was already transferred into another account.
Keith’s account.
I didn’t know how he’d beat me, but he did. He even took the money that I got working as a sandwich maker. It was only a few hundred dollars, but my account was left with a zero balance. What kind of brother did that to his only sister? Apparently, the one who cared more about himself and drugs than his own blood.
I was left with nothing.
After taking my name off of the bank account and opening another one in my name only, I walked the few miles back to the house, needing to think about what to do next. I couldn’t move out because I didn’t make enough at Freshly Baked.
I felt lost and helpless.
By the time I got home, I realized that the only thing I could do was let Keith think he’d won. He could have my money, but when the time came, I was going to get my revenge.
Even if we were blood.
Present Day
Once the planetouched down at the airport in Nashville, I rented a car and drove to my mother’s house about thirty minutes outside of the city in a small, one-stoplight town. Saddles & Racks gave me the freedom and money to be able to go back home whenever I needed or wanted to, which typically was at least once a month.
“Mom,” I called out as I entered the two-bedroom, two-bath house that I’d purchased for her after my first year of escorting. Instead of buying a home for myself right away, I chose to help her. I made sure she had everything she needed and wouldn’t have to worry about paying a mortgage or rent. My father had divorced her when I was ten, and she never remarried. Escorting had paidverywell in the three years I’d been doing it. My three-bedroom house with a pool, my luxury truck, my mom’s house, and her medical bills were all paid for.
“I’m in the kitchen,” she yelled.
I smiled and shut the door behind me, setting my bag down before walking through the small living room to the kitchen. The air smelled of home: lavender, vanilla, and my mother’s cooking. “Whatcha makin’?”
Mom turned and held out her arms for me to walk into them. “A peach cobbler. Mary is coming over with her granddaughter for afternoon coffee.”
I pulled back and looked into her chocolate eyes. Mary was the sweet older lady who lived diagonally across the street. She had become close friends with my mother. “How old is her granddaughter?”
She grinned. “Why? Do you want me to set you up?”
I narrowed my eyes. “No, I know you. This is already a setup.”
Mom chuckled and stepped back to continue sautéing the peaches. “Can you blame me? I want a grandbaby before I die.”
My mother didn’t know what I did for a living. When I started at Saddles & Racks, she was going through recovery from her double mastectomy. I spent a month on leave with her while she recovered before I made the decision to become an escort so I could help her out financially.
When I told her I was leaving the Marine Corps because I’d found a job in Vegas that paid well, she’d asked what it was, so I told her I’d be working in customer relations at various hotels—atinylie because itwascustomer relations at various hotels, I just wasn’t workingforthe hotels.
“Well, lucky for you, you’re not dying for another thirty or forty years.”
“And I better have a grandchild or two by then.”
“Right.” I rubbed the back of my neck. I had no plans of ever settling down or having kids. “So, I’m going to go change and then mow the lawn.”
“Do it shirtless.”
“Mom!”
“What?” She grinned. “I want Mary’s granddaughter to see your abs.”
“And how old is she?” I asked again.
She took the pan off the stove and then started to get her dry ingredients. “In her twenties.”
I took a deep breath. “If, and I meanifI think she’s pretty, I’ll consider taking her out while I’m here, but I’m not making any promises.”
