by Kayt Miller
Uh-oh. That’s never a good way to start a conversation. “All right.”
“I live in a two-bedroom condo with two full baths….”
Setting my fork down, I give him my full attention. I’m hearing him out.
“What if you stayed with me for a while until you figure out what you want to do.”
I’m not sure what to say, so I say nothing. Instead, I stare at him, blinking every once in a while. As he waits, I decide to say, “It seems fast.”
“It is. I’m not saying we need to live together that way, but I like you. You’re fun and cool and beautiful. I’ve lived alone for a while, and I’m lonely, JoJo.”
He’s giving me puppy dog eyes, and it’s adorable. It makes me laugh.
“You could have your own bedroom and bathroom, and we could see where this thing goes with us.”
I nod, thinking about his words.
“God knows you can’t stay here.”
He’s right. I can’t stay here. My mom will probably never forgive me, so I’m definitely not going to stick around and test that hypothesis. But… “I’m not going to mooch off of you.”
Billy chuckles as he reaches for my hand. When mine is in his, he uses his thumb to rub the top of my hand. It’s soothing. “There are more jobs in linguistics than you think. Interestingly, they often hire people with linguistics degrees to help with difficult cases. I know we’ve hired a few in the past. I could help you find something in another firm.”
Yeah, because working anywhere near my sister would be a terrible idea. Not to mention that I’d need to back to school to get my masters, at least. “Hm.” I scoot closer to him so I can lean my head on his shoulder. “We do get along really well.”
“Considering there’s been nothing but drama from the second we woke up yesterday morning? Yes, we do.”
Sitting back up, I turn myself so I’m facing him. “We’ve barely known each other for twenty-four hours, Billy.”
“Closer to thirty-six hours now.”
I roll my eyes. But he’s right. It’s been longer than twenty-four hours.
He touches my uninjured cheek. “What if we did this? You pack a bag and come back into the city with me tonight. We’ll try it for a week or two. At the very least, I could help you find a job and a place to live in the city. If it doesn’t work, I’ll drive you wherever you want to go.”
A week or two. I’d have to quit my part-time job at the store. They won’t care, though. My dad’s friend owns the store. He hired me as a favor to my dad. Gazing into his pretty blue eyes, I see him. He means everything he’s saying. “I’m not like you.”
“Thank God.” He chuckles. “You’re better. Prettier for sure.”
That’s a nice thing to say, but I’m not sure. “Let me think about it. Please don’t mention this to my parents. If they thought I was leaving to live with you… well, that’s too much all at once.”
“Got it.” He kisses me. “My lips are sealed.” He kisses me again, deeper this time, and I taste cinnamon. Before he pulls away, he kisses the tip of my nose. “For the record, I think you’re perfect.”
I snort. “I’m not perfect.”
“JoJo, you are perfect. You’re perfect for me.”
Chapter Ten
“This one is from Gisele and me to you.” Billy’s hesitant, but he hands me the small gift bag.
Taking it from him, I peek inside. “It’s a book.” Pulling it out, I wince. “Life After Obesity: How to stop overeating so you can live your best life.”
I peek over at Mom who’s smiling. It’s forced, I can tell. “What a lovely gift.” She doesn’t mean that. How could she?
“Fuck,” Billy mutters. “I had no idea.”
I pat his leg. “I know.” And I’m not just saying that. I do know because he likes my body just as it is. He’s told me so several times.
We continued opening gifts in awkward silence. Dad opened my gifts first. I got him a Bears sweatshirt and a book. He laughed when he opened it, thank goodness. It’s a do-it-yourself book on how to build your own man-cave in the backyard using things you have around the house, plans included. It’s humorous fiction, something we all need today. I bought Mom a bottle of her favorite perfume and a pretty scarf. She smiled, but that smile never reached her eyes. When she opened Gisele’s gift, she cried her eyes out saying things like, “How thoughtful of her. She knows me so well.” It was a bottle of her favorite perfume and a scarf. A scarf not near as pretty as the one I gave her, but that’s neither here nor there.
“I just don’t see why they wouldn’t let her out for Christmas.”
We all stare at my mom as she keeps on talking.
“I mean. It’s not like she’s a criminal. She’s a dang lawyer,” she says with a scoff.
“She assaulted a police officer.” That came from Billy, but it went right over Mom’s head.
“It was Rory Jorgensen, for heaven’s sake. I’ve wanted to kick him in the shin a time or two myself.”
“Pam,” my dad snaps. “That’s enough. She assaulted your daughter too. Look at her damn face.”
“It’s just a little scratch.”
If you call a scratched cornea and four long, deep cuts on a person’s face “just a scratch,” I’d hate to see what she thinks of real injuries.
“Pam,” my dad said warningly.
Attempting to change the subject, I say, “Mom, I’ll give you the receipts so you can return my gifts. You can pick something out that you really want.”
Without looking directly at me, she replies, “Oh, right. Thank you, Josephine.”
Mom and Dad give Billy a gray sweater. It’s a very nice sweater, but if I had picked it out, I would have gone with a blue hue to go with his eyes. He seems to like it, though. “Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Foster.”
“Mm-hmm” is all my mom says.
My dad remains silent.
This Christmas sucks, and it’s all due to the elephant in the room. Or maybe because she’s not in the room. I know my parents tried to bail my sister out last night, but they were told they’d have to wait until the 26th when the judge was back after the holiday.
While part of me is glad she’s not here, the rest of me wishes she were so my mom wouldn’t be so sad. No matter what happened yesterday, I wish today were back to normal. My gut is churning so much, I fear my French toast is going to make a reappearance. I’m not sure how, but Billy must sense my unease because every few minutes, he reaches over and touches me. He either squeezes my hand or places his palm on my knee and gives that a squeeze. It’s more reassuring than I can explain. I mean, I just met this person. Billy was a one-night stand, and yet he’s here supporting me in front of two people who probably hate his guts. The fact that he’s here is not helping my case with either of them, but oh well.
We finish opening gifts, of which I received a sweater, a Franklin planner with next year’s calendar included. “To get you organized,” Mom mumbles.
“Thank you, I need this.”
“You do,” she adds just to turn that knife a tad.
Mom also bought me a new purse that doubles as a backpack that I really do like. And Dad? He bought me the exact same Bears sweatshirt that I got him. Great minds. We like to watch football together. It’s sort of our thing.
Anyway, after gifts, we usually sit down to a wonderful lunch prepared by Mom, of course. But not today. Mom said she wasn’t up to cooking and that she wanted to lie down. “Before you go, I just wanted to let you know I’m going to head into the city and stay with a friend of mine for a while.”
“Oh?” Mom seems to perk up. “Who’s this friend?”
“Julie.” I know Mom remembers that name. She was my only friend back at the magazine. “She broke up with her boyfriend, and she needs a little girl time.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful.” Mom’s just saying the words. There’s no emotion there. “How long will you be gone?”
“A week or two.” I turn to my father. “Dad, I’m going to have to quit the j
ob at the store. I plan on looking for something in the city while I’m there. I’ll call Richard later.”
“No worries. I’ll call him. He’ll understand considering the situation.”
“Oh, right.” I look at Billy then at my feet. For some reason, those words from my dad hurt more than anything my mom has said or done. What did I expect? “The situation” is my fault. “I don’t mind. I’ll message him.”
“I said I’d do it,” Dad snaps.
I feel my eyes burn, and I do my damn best to will away any tears. But one slips past and slides down my cheek. “Oh, Jo.” My dad must have seen it.
I quickly wipe it away. “No, it’s okay. I know this is all my fault.”
“No, it’s not.” Billy slides his arm over my shoulders. “This is not your fault.”
When nobody jumps in to agree with him, I pull away and gather myself. “Well, I guess I’ll go pack up. Billy, you don’t mind if I ride with you into the city?”
“No. I’ll take you wherever you need to go.”
“Thanks.” With that, I race down the basement stairs to pack. And to cry. Because what else am I supposed to do?
Chapter Eleven
I’m busy trying to decide what I need to take with me for two weeks when I feel a hand on my lower back. It startles me, and I jump and squeak like a deranged mouse. “Shit, Billy.” I laugh and pant at the same time. “Don’t sneak up on me.”
“Sorry.” He smirks. “I assumed you heard me clomping down the wooden steps.”
“My mind is on other things.”
“I know.” Billy sits down on the sofa bed that is now in sofa-mode. “So, you should have warned me.”
As I pick up those dirty leggings from the other day, I turn to look at him. “Warn you about what?”
“What a good liar you are.”
“Huh?” I stand up and turn to face him.
“You lied so smoothly up there about your friend, I almost believed you.”
“Oh, yeah?” I snap. “Did you ever consider it was true?”
“Oh, uh….”
“Because it is. Julie finally broke up with the cheating bastard she was dating. If you were listening, I didn’t specifically say I was staying with her. I left that out. But…” I grab whatever clean clothes are in the basket and shove them into my bag. “I think I should stay with her.”
“What?” Billy quickly stands and moves toward me. “Why?”
“You should have warned me,” I say in a mocking tone. “What a good liar you are.”
“I’m sorry. I….”
“You what? You didn’t think? Well, guess what, asshole, that’s obvious. I don’t need this.” I say the last sentence louder than probably necessary, but it feels good to yell a little. “I don’t fucking need this bullshit. Not from a guy I just met. I’ve been through enough in the last forty-eight hours, William.” I emphasize his name because it feels right. And because he doesn’t like it when I call him William. So there.
“Our first fight,” he says while wrapping his big arms around me. When his lips touch my neck, I relax into him. “Make-up sex is the best. I can’t wait to try it with you.” He kisses my neck again, right below my ear.
I want to purr but don’t. “You’re not forgiven yet.”
“If I have to get on my knees to, you know, beg for forgiveness. I will.”
When he nibbles on my ear, I can’t take it. Turning in his arms, I run my fingers through his hair, get up on my tiptoes, and kiss the ever-loving hell out of him. “Asshole,” I say between kisses.
“Agreed. You’ll need to punish me later.”
I can’t help it. I giggle, which quickly turns into a full-blown laugh.
“I’m so glad one of us is happy today.”
I jump away from Billy in time to see my mom step onto the basement floor.
“Mom, I—”
“No.” She waves me off. “I didn’t come down here to fight. I’ve got enough of that to deal with right now.” She holds her hand out to me, and I see money. “Take this. Give it to Julie to help with expenses.”
“I’m okay, Mom.”
“I know you had to pay for the doctor yesterday. Take it. Ease my guilt over that. It’s the least you can do.”
God, why does she have to say shit like that?
“Fine.” I take the cash and shove it into my bra. I have no idea how much it is. It could be forty bucks or a million. It doesn’t matter. “Thanks, Mom.”
“You’re welcome.”
I step closer to her to give her a hug, but she’s already turned to go. “Drive safe,” she says as she takes the first step up. “Dad will enjoy having his man cave back.”
And with that, she’s gone.
“God, I need a drink.” Or twelve.
“Once we get to my place, I’ll make you something,” Billy promises.
“Good. Make it a double, sexy bartender.”
“You think I’m sexy?” He actually looks surprised.
I scoff because, duh. “You know you’re sexy. Don’t trawl for compliments. It’s doesn’t suit you.”
“You’ve known me for two days. Maybe I was an ugly duckling and compliments now and then are nice to hear.”
“Oh.” I turn to face him. “Were you?”
He laughs. “No. I’ve been hot since I left the womb.”
Good thing I had a shoe in my hand because it gave me something to throw at him. “Jerk.”
“That’s sexy jerk to you, beautiful JoJo.”
Ignoring all of that, I close the lid on my suitcase and press down on it so I can zip it. “Can you take the plastic tub over there?” I point to a blue box with a green lid near the man-bath.
“Sure. You ready to go?”
“I just want to tell my dad goodbye.”
With the car loaded, Billy waits in the driver’s seat while I head into the garage. I knew I’d find Dad there. “Daddy, I’m leaving.”
“Do you really have a friend named Julie?”
Oh, here we go. “I do.”
“Did she really break up with someone?”
“She did.”
“Are you staying with her?”
I decide not to lie. “I’m going to stay with Billy for part of the time. He’s got an extra bedroom and bathroom.”
Dad scoffs.
“Don’t, Dad. Believe it or not, Billy and I have become friends. I like him. He likes me. And none of that has anything to do with Gisele. I have options. Julie already offered her couch to me, so if things with Billy get weird, I’ll stay with Julie.” I place my hand on Dad’s shoulder. “Okay?”
“Yeah. Okay.”
I lean in and kiss his cheek. “Cut Mom some slack. She needs you and you need her. The only thing you can do is give Gisele advice. It’s up to her to get help. Don’t let your marriage suffer because of your stupid kids.”
“My kids aren’t stupid. Misguided, yes, but definitely not stupid.”
“Well, this misguided kid needs to go. I love you, Dad.”
He wraps his arms around me and pulls me into a big hug. “Be sure to get the medicine for your eye and face. It can easily get infected.”
“I know. I will. I’ve got the prescription in my purse.”
After kissing him on the cheek one more time, I turn and step out into the cold Christmas night. I feel like crying, but I choose a stiff upper lip instead. I’m about to set out on a new adventure, and I’m excited about it.
Chapter Twelve
“This can make or break our relationship,” Billy says solemnly.
“The music I have on my music streaming app is going to make or break our relationship?”
“Absolutely. I mean, what if you like country?” He shivers. “Or worse, boy bands.”
“Well, what if you like death metal, huh? I’d tell you to just drop me off at the next gas station. Ooh, or what about jazz?” Now it’s my turn to shiver. “Please. Not jazz.”
Billy chuckles and chuckles and chuckles. When he s
tops, he looks at me and winks. “I have an eclectic music taste, but jazz is not one of those on my list. Neither is death metal.”
“Phew,” I say as I wipe my brow. “You’re so lucky.”
“And you?” He arches a brow.
“I’m not into country, no. I do like some crossover people though, like Taylor Swift.”
He groans. “Did I forget to mention her?”
“What?” I cross my arms in front of me and harrumph. “She’s awesome and a great role model for girls.”
“She is that. But what about boy bands?”
“I don’t listen to boy bands.”
“Thank fu—”
“Much.”
I should take a picture because his face is priceless. It cracks me up. I’m not taking back what I said though. I do like boy bands now and then. If he doesn’t like them, he doesn’t have to listen.
When I see the pretty lights of the Chicago skyline come into view, I know we’ve arrived. This city is so beautiful. It hasn’t been that long since I was in Chicago, but it feels like it’s been forever. I’ve missed the city. It’s always abuzz with activity. There’s always something to do. I stare out the window as he drives us north on Lake Shore Drive. We must drive for a good twenty minutes before he takes an exit. The sign reads “Old Town.”
I want to say something like, “Whoa, you live in fancy-schmancy Old Town?” but I don’t. I decide to wait to see where he lives before I freak the fuck out. When he pulls down a driveway that leads to parking beneath the building, I know. I watch him click something on his visor and the garage door starts to raise slowly. He proceeds into the underground parking garage and pulls in next to a sweet-ass Range Rover in a deep maroon color. His spot is marked with “P1” painted in yellow. With the car in park, he switches off the motor, turns, and smiles. “Home sweet home.”
Not able to keep my stupid mouth shut, I blurt, “You live in freaking Old Town?”
“Yeah? Why?” He looks a tad affronted by my shock.
“You have underground parking. It’s like a lair.”
“And?” He chuckles.
“You’re like Batman.” I stare at him, waiting for him to say something, like deny the fact that he’s Batman. But he doesn’t, so I add, “It’s fancy.”