Page 45 of Then Came You

"You're a welcome surprise, aren't you, little darling?" He leans back in my chair. It's obvious where Blade and Xander get their handsomeness from. For a QC, I expected someone stuffier, but he's the opposite. He exudes the same care-free nature of his sons, and you can tell he adores his family. Like they're his greatest joy. It's reminiscent of the way my own Dad used to look at me. "Alien green, please."

"What?" I stutter.

"For my hair. I want alien green. All these young ones these days want pink in their hair." He winks at me. "Green is where it's at." I can't colour this man's hair. It's the colour of snow. It will take days to wash out, if it comes out at all.

"Are you sure?" I hesitate.

"As sure as eggs, little darling." His term of endearment is making me miss Dad more. It has been so long since I had a grown-up care for me.

"Then let's do it," I say conspiratorially. I take my time with him, wanting to stay in his safety net.

We sit in comfortable silence, only the hiss of the can cutting through.

♥?

"Tori, I can't work with him." I snuggle up beside her in the one dingy bed nestled in the corner of the water-damaged room. Mould cannot be good for a cancer patient. Just another thing I add to the list of things to worry about. Our home couldn't be more derelict. The only saving grace is Mum hasn't returned home yet from wherever she is.

"Row, we're a team, and I'll always back you, but we can't live like this anymore. I can't live like this. I'm already dying. This place is just killing me faster," she says in her weakened state.

Do you know how difficult it is to say no to someone who has cancer?

She lays a black and blue arm over my stomach, her bruises prominent against her paper-thin translucent skin.

Sleep evades me for most of the night. Between being a nervous wreck over Tori's failing health, Mum's impending arrival, and Blade and Xander, I wonder when I'll actually catch a break?

I do the only responsible thing I can and message Blade.

Chapter 19

Row

I watch people scatter in and out of the yellowing building of the Foundation, where Blade sits as CEO. It’s two or three storeys high but to me, it feels so much more significant, knowing what goes on behind the doors. The very people walking in could be the same ones working on a cure that could save my sister’s life.

On an exhale, I walk through the double glass doors and buzz myself up to the right level. There are two smartly-dressed receptionists ready to greet me, one young and one older. I opt for the older one because she has a kind smile, and I need kind right now.

"Um hi, I'm here to see Mr. Renshaw. I'm here to speak about a contracting position," I say steadily, toying with the ends of my recently washed hair.

"Name, sweetheart?" She warmly greets, looking down at her computer.

I clear my throat, "Row or Row Atkins."

"Just take a seat and I'll bring you in, in a sec."

I take a seat on the plastic chair, browsing the display of information booklets, pamphlets, posters, and fact sheets littered around the waiting area. There isn’t a single one I haven’t read. After sitting on the side-lines watching Tori go through this, I find myself immune to the depressing pictures of kids without hair. I don't see them in the images anymore. I see the family that surrounds them. They're all smiling on the outside, but it’s the eyes that give them away that they’re crying on the inside.

"Row, Mr. Renshaw is ready now," Sandra, the receptionist, ushers the way. The floor we walk through is filled with cubicles, frosted glass meeting rooms, and a few larger enclosed offices. We pass the toilets and the kitchen area, as well as different units that can be identified by wayfinding signs. Unlike the salon that is a rainbow of colours, everything is in shades of blue or white.

At the end of the corridor, there’s a lone door, with a small seating area to one side. Opposite is where I assume Miss pie chart used to sit. With a succession of three quick taps, Sandra turns and leaves.

"Come in," the smoky voice behind the door calls. The same one I've come to know and love. Pushing the door open was the easy part. It’s coming face-to-face with Blade that's threatening to drown me in this sea of blue walls. "Hey Tink." The way he says it is breathy and doing things to my libido. "Close the door, please," he commands, taking a seat behind his L-shaped corner desk.

He’s lethally good looking. He’s in a navy suit and thin black tie. It's a stark contrast to what I know is underneath.

I scramble to the chair in front of him and link my fingers together, trying to expel any nervous energy that's radiating off me. I look past his shoulder, but out of the corner of my eye, I can see his sage-coloured eyes are boring into me.

"I need to apologise." He dives right in, leading forward on his desk. The urgency in his voice snaps me out of my far-away gaze.

"For what?" I'm just as urgent to know.

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