Page 28 of Harboring Shantae

"I need to call Wes and Ray."

That was it. That was all Camron said before he stormed off, leaving her both hurt and confused. After the way he spoke about her, she expected some response. Some explanation. Or maybe just comfort that things would be okay. She got none of that.

Emotionally drained from having to put on an act, Shantae retreated back to her bedroom. One thing she hated about being a politician's daughter was the phony niceties she was expected to put on. Her parents always commented how good she was, and maybe it worked in her favor today, but it took its toll on her.

The fake smiles. The lies that so easily slipped from her mouth. The trick was to stay as close to the truth as possible. She had done that. If the detective had asked her if they were in love, she wouldn't have had to lie because it was true. And when Camron had openly said they were in love, it had taken every ounce of control she had not to burst into tears. Tears of joy or tears of sorrow, she didn't know. Her emotions were in turmoil.

Shantae flopped down on her bed and stared up at the ceiling. In her haste to pack, she forgot to bring her e-reader. If she was going to hole herself up in the bedroom for hours on end, she needed something to keep her busy. Although now that she thought about it, she needed a job first. Reading was an expensive habit. Especially when there were times she would read a book a night. Not having a social life allowed her that luxury. Add in the audiobooks she liked to listen to while driving or when she could sneak it at work, and her reading habit was a bit excessive.

It was better than doing drugs. That was what she reminded herself every time she added another book to her virtual library. Better than dealing with the fake people in her life.

She wondered what kind of employment she could find. She wasn't a snob. A job was a job. She wouldn’t be picky. Except for politics. She drew the line at anything politically related. She’d had enough of that in Washington, D.C., and wasn't looking for a repeat. But otherwise, she was open to any possibilities. Maybe one of the women she met yesterday could help her find something. That was Trista's specialty, and she had already offered when they were back at her townhouse. She would see about getting a phone and then ask. With any luck, she would have a new job within a few weeks. Or at least something so she could start paying her way. Handouts weren't something she was comfortable with.

Shantae was still thinking about her options when a knock interrupted her.

"Come in."

Whoever was on the other side of her bedroom door had to be someone she had met, if not Camron himself. There was no way the man would let anyone else inside the house. He might not love her but he would protect her until his dying breath. That she was sure of.

"Mind if we talk?"

She rolled her head to the side. She should sit up if he wanted to have a conversation, but mentally she wasn't up for it. Torn between wanting to be left alone and soaking up his presence, she stayed where she was.

"Why not."

The bed next to her hip dipped to accommodate his large frame. It was only a queen size, and she was currently starfishing on her back, so there wasn't exactly a lot of room for him to join her without being close. Any other time she probably would've moved over so things weren't so awkward, but she didn't actually care that much. Herfuck itmentality was in full swing and no one was safe from it.

"I know we got interrupted before you could answer, so I wanted to ask again. What can I do to make you more comfortable here?"

Huh. She'd forgotten he asked that before Detective Bronson showed up.

"A job. I want to earn my way. My parents insisted I stay dependent on them and I never want to be in that position again. Oh, and e-books. Reading is my guilty pleasure. It will keep me occupied while I'm not working."

Several expressions crossed Camron's face in rapid succession. She could barely register one before another one was popping up.

"That can be arranged, but just know that I don't pay for this place, so there's no need to contribute. Plus, we're married, so what's mine is yours anyway."

And that was exactly what she didn't want. Another person in her life to whom she owedsomethingto out of obligation. If she was ever going to survive on her own, then she needed to start standing on her own two feet.

"I appreciate you saying that, but I need to do this for myself. You asked me what would make me comfortable, and this is it. Independence. I haven't had it since my grandparents passed away, and even before that, it was limited. I would like to truly be free for the first time in my life and the first step is to make choices by myself, rather than have them always made for me."

Shantae hated how she sounded like an ungrateful wench. A poor rich girl whose parents bought her a car, picked out a gorgeous townhouse in a nice neighborhood, and made sure she had a decent job. To an outsider, that would seem like the dream life, and in some ways it was. But when that same person doesn't get a say in any of the things about their life, it becomes a nightmare, but one she was finally free of.

"Then job hunting it is. Feel free to choose one that makes you happy. I know we started off on a rocky foot this morning, but I don't want this living arrangement to be weird. This house is huge, so I can stay out of your way. We desperately need groceries, so you can either make me a list or we can go together. Whatever you prefer."

Why did the thought of doing something as domesticated as grocery shopping together set off a string of butterflies in her belly? They were married, dammit. The whole I do's were exchanged. It didn't matter that it was one of convenience. They were locked together. Grocery shopping with Camron shouldn't affect her so damn much.

"Uh, I can go with you," she replied.

That didn't sound the least bit confident at all. Gone was the politician's daughter who killed the interview with the detective. In its place was a bumbling fool who Camron probably thought was secretly an airhead, but managed to sound intelligent when she wrote a damn letter.

"Come downstairs whenever you're ready and we can head out."

She scissored herself up and hopped off the bed like a kid told they were going for ice cream.

"I'm ready."

Camron was giving her another strange look. Shantae was starting to think he would be wearing that expression a lot. He didn't seem to know what to do with her and honestly neither did she. She didn't particularly know who the real Shantae was anymore. It would be a learning curve for both of them.

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