“Doesn’t matter.” I don’t mean to sound like such a dick but I do anyway. I don’t generally talk to her this way.
“Yes it does, you had me worried sick.” The anger fades from her voice and is replaced by genuine concern making me feel like a world class douche.
“I’m sorry, Gran. I won’t do that again,” I tell her, and I mean it. My own irritation dissipates, leaving me feeling like shit for not only worrying her but being a dick because of the worry I caused. I hear her sigh into the phone telling me her anger at me is subsiding.
“Okay. You’ll still be here to pick me up at six right?” I can hear the excitement in her voice. While I’m happy she’s not pissed anymore, I wish I could match her excitement but the laundromat is not where I want to spend my Saturday night. Pinching the bridge of my nose in an effort to make my headache go away, I remind myself that it’s only a few hours and agree. “Yes, I’ll be there. See you later, Gran.”
“Bye, Cash,” she says, once again cheerful.
I hang up, laying back in my bed, phone in hand. I use the time to go through my notifications. Eighteen new text messages. All from Hannah.
I’m sure your sleeping but wanted to say good morning.
Really had a good time last night.
Are you still sleeping? I worked you hard.
Holy fuck Cash, you’re still sleeping?
Okay it’s noon, are you up? I need company.
I’m starting to think you’re ignoring me.
Are you ignoring me?
I’m trying to ignore her. I’d like to forget her. That message is followed by five more messages all containing pictures of her tits. Can’t say I don’t enjoy the pictures. I really do love that rack.
Still nothing? You alive?
Okay, now I’m getting pissed!
Did you really think you could fuck me then just walk out? You have no idea who you’re playing with.
I will fuck your world up Cash Green!
Please, call me!
I tossed my phone to the side, shaking my head. She may be hot, but she’s clearly a nut job. Pushing thoughts of Hannah aside, I get out of bed and get dressed, thankful I took that shower before falling asleep. My stomach rumbles at the same time my cell rings. I glance at the caller ID and see it’s Hannah. Fuck, this girl doesn’t give up. I swipe, ignoring the call, but before I can put my phone down she calls again. Again I ignore the call and again she calls. On the fifth time I finally answer.
“Cash here,” I answer, as though I don’t know who it is.
“Ah, you are awake?” she greets, her voice somewhere between trying to be sweet and trying to rein in the crazy.
“Who’s this?” Pretending not to know her is likely to piss her off, but I don’t give a fuck. She needs to leave me alone. Wasn’t I clear enough? I don’t do relationships.
“Don’t be cute with me, Cash, you damn well know who I am, and you should also know by now that I don’t take kindly to being fucked then ignored.”
“Well, sorry to hear that, but I don’t take kindly to fucking then being harassed.” I knew I should have stayed away from her as soon as I heard her name. I should have walked the hell away and found a new blonde with perky tits.
“Harassed?” She ends the word on a squeal leading me to picture her face a nice shade of pissed off crimson.
“Yes, harassed, now are we done here?”
“No!” She nearly screams.
“Look, Hannah, I had a good time but that’s all it was, a good time. One time only. I’m sorry, but I have to go, I have plans.”
“With another woman?” she asks, treading in territory that is none of her fucking concern.
“That’s none of your fucking business.” Trying to maintain calmness is becoming increasingly harder the longer I talk to her.
“You’ll come back to me, Cash, just like every other man who tries to walk away from me.” Before I can respond the line goes dead. The woman is amazing in bed, but she’s bat shit crazy. I don’t have time to think about her tantrum, I need to eat then head to Gran’s house. I grab my keys then hustle down to the parking garage where I find Hannah leaning on my car in nothing but a mini dress that leaves very little to the imagination. Seeing her like that, with crazy written all over her face, she’s not as hot as she was last night. That’s always the problem. Women are always fuckable when I’m looking for a lay but the next day there’s nothing. No feeling of remorse for the one night stand. No desire for a do over. Nothing.
“What are you doing on my car?” I ask, approaching her, irritated as shit.
“Well, thought I’d show you what you’re missing. Give you something to think about when you’re out with another woman.” Her legs spread wide revealing her bare pussy. It’s a sexy position and one that might normally turn me on, but if there is one thing I hate, it’s a desperate woman. Right now I don’t see a sweet pussy and a rockin’ body, I see a sad excuse for a woman.
“Put your fucking legs together. Jesus.” I try to push past her, hoping she’ll get the clear hint and get lost.
“You don’t like what you see?” she pouts. Another thing that wears on my nerves, women that pout like that.
“No, I don’t. Look I told you it was a one time thing, that’s it. I don’t do relationships or even second dates. Now please, get the fuck off of my car, I’m running late.” I glance at my watch, a confirmation that Gran is going to kick my ass for being late if Hannah doesn’t get the fuck off of my car.
“Late for your fuck of the day?” she questions, angrily getting off the car.
“None of your business, Hannah. Go home and please, for the love of God, don’t come back here!” I slip into my car and turn the key. Slowly backing out I see her standing next to my parking spot, her arms crossed over her chest shooting daggers at me. I smile and wave before getting the fuck away from her.
***
I pull into Gran’s estate an hour later. She refuses to live in the city, regardless of my requests for her to do so now that she doesn’t drive. She prefers the country and the small town her mansion sits outside of. I can’t blame her though, this is the home she and my grandfather purchased forty years ago when he made his first million. The same house my father was born in. The same house he married in and later the same house I was born in. With thirteen bedrooms the house is more than large enough for two families, plus my gran liked to have her family close. I’ve never seen her as pissed as she was the day I moved to the city.
I chuckle at the memory as I pull in on the tree lined driveway. Gran doesn’t usually get angry. Just the opposite, she’s the most loving and accepting person I’ve ever known and the only woman next to my mother that will ever have a piece of my heart. My car approaches the front drive and there she is, waiting on the front steps, her small laundry basket in her hand. Any thoughts of the night before or Hannah slip away when I see her.
“Hey, pretty lady, would you like a ride?” I tease through the open window, coming to a stop in front of her. Before bustling down the stairs, she blushes as she always does when given a compliment. She sets her basket gingerly in my back seat then slowly gets in the front. At eighty years old, her memory and wit are sharp as a tack but her body is slowing down.
“Hi, Gran, sorry I’m a little late.” Leaning over I kiss her cheek.
“You should be,” she huffs. “But I’m glad you’re here now and safe. Don’t ever do that again, Cash. I was worried sick.” The passenger door shuts, and I drive off towards her laundromat.
“I won’t. I promise. Last thing I want you to do is worry.” I smile at her, hoping she lets it go. The last thing I want to do is think about last night, as amazing as the sex was, Hannah is clearly a nut job that I’d rather forget about.
“I know, you’re such a good boy.” She pinches my cheek as she always does and I let her because even though I’m a grown man, to Gran, I’m her baby and that’s okay. There isn’t much I tell her no about.
“Have you
found a girl to settle down with yet?” The question rolls off her tongue effortlessly, as it always does. This is the one department I let her down in. See, I have no desire to settle down, get married, have kids. None whatsoever. I enjoy my work far too much to commit fully to a woman, and I love my freedom. I also love the thrill of the chase, where’s the chase if I have a wife? Not to mention, I dig having different pussy all the time. The thought of having the same pussy to fuck day after day scares the piss out of me.
“Not yet, Gran,” is all I say. I don’t have the heart to tell her it’s not going to happen for me. Ever.
“You will, soon enough,” she replies confidently, her hands folded in her lap like the proper lady she is.
“Tell me again why you go to this laundromat when you have a maid that does your laundry for you?” I ask, hoping to change the subject off my love life.
“Because people are fascinating. I like to sit and watch them. I also get tired of the snooty old hags that insist on boring card games and tea every week. Those ladies don’t give a hoot about anything but their money. I much prefer real people.” Her statement is so matter of factly spoken, it’s almost hard to argue.
“Laundromat people?” I question.
“I’ll have you know I’ve met a very nice young lady there. She’s been a bit down on her luck, but she’s lovely and has great potential.” She turns to wink at me.
“Oh no, you’re not trying to set me up with some laundromat rat are you, Gran?” I wince at the thought. I never go in with Gran, instead I wait it out in the car. Sometimes I nap since I usually have a late night the night before. Something about the place seems dirty to me, and I imagine the patrons look homeless or some shit. Last thing I want is to be hooked up with some tramp who can’t even afford a washer and dryer.
“Of course not, but you better get that look off of your face and thoughts out of your head. Come back down here to earth, Cash. Life is not all about money and fancy things.”
“I beg to differ.”
“You listen up, Cash Green. Money will only take you so far and most people in the world want little more from you than your money. You will grow to be a lonely and grumpy old man if you refuse to look outside of that uptight, scandalous world you live in.”
Sighing I don’t reply. She’s right. As wealthy as our family is the one thing my grandfather and father always taught me was to be humble. To stay rooted in the family and as far away from the rich elitists as possible. Know them yes, but don’t let them too close. Don’t ever get to the point where we look down on anyone or judge based on social status and for the most part, I don’t. At least I try not to. But the laundromat? She wants me to come that far down?
“I know. I know.” Surrendering I pull into the closest parking spot so I can watch Gran from a distance. Don’t want some thug thinking he can fuck with her. She may be doing laundry in a public place, but her clothes are obviously high end and her entire persona screams rich– until you talk to her. She’s the most down to earth woman I know and people love her for it.
“Let’s not have to talk about this again okay?”
“Okay, Gran.” I help her out of the car, handing her the small basket of clothes.
“Are you going to come inside with me? Never know who you might meet.” She tries this every time and every time it’s the same answer.
“No, I’ll stay in the car. You go have a good time. I’ll be right here.” I lean down to kiss her cheek before she shuffles her way into the one place she loves and the one place I have no interest in at all.
Sliding back behind the steering wheel of my car I pull out my phone preparing to occupy myself for the next few hours. The second my phone is unlocked I’m bombarded with text messages from Hannah.
Where are you?
Are you avoiding me?
Did I come on too strong?
Ya think?
Come on Cash, I’m alone and horny. Let’s fuck.
Are you with another woman?
The messages go on and on and they’re all the same just in various word forms. I delete them all. The invitation to fuck her again is tempting, but I’m not into riding the crazy train. I sure as hell don’t need her thinking she’s my girlfriend or whatever shit she’s already thinking. Screwing again would ensure me the nightmare of a needy woman. No thanks.
Glancing up from my phone to check on Gran, since there’s strange motherfuckers that frequent this area of town, I catch a glimpse of a woman. She’s wearing a hoodie with the hood up, but it doesn’t contain her wild hair. Her face is soft, gentle. I watch as she leans against the washing machine, I assume waiting for her clothes. Her stance is somewhat defensive as though she’s not very trusting. She shouldn’t be, not in a place like that. I can’t say what it is, after all, I can’t really see her that clearly, but there’s something about her that captures me. Makes me want to continue watching. I set my phone down and do just that– watch her. I can’t take my eyes off of her.
The way she moves intrigues me. Just the simple task of switching her clothes from the washer to the dryer is enchanting. Then the way her body moves when she folds them and places them neatly in her basket is intoxicating. The scene inside the laundromat is like a movie that I can’t stop watching, sucking me in and holding on. I’m so entranced with her that I barely notice when Gran gets in the car.
“You ready, Cash? Sorry it took so long. There was some fun people to watch in there.” Her voice penetrates my ears, but I still can’t take my eyes off of the stranger who’s grabbed me like no other woman ever has before.
“Cash! Cash! What in the world are you looking at?” She demands breaking my attention away from the girl.
“Who’s that girl, Gran?” I ask, still not looking away from her.
“Which girl?” she asks, leaning up to looking inside.
“The one with the sweater and hood on?” I nod in response.
“I don’t know but she’s been coming here every Saturday at the same time. She keeps to herself. She always has that hood on as though she’s trying to hide or something. She seems sad but has a very pretty face. Why do you ask?”
I look away from the girl for the first time to look at Gran. “You know all that just by looking at her?”
“I watch people, Cash, you know this. I read people very well and that girl, she’s sad, but she’s a fighter. She’s got a good heart.”
“She’s got something, that’s for sure,” I remark off handedly.
“Have you been out here watching her?” She sounds shocked and slightly irritated. Shouldn’t she be happy I’m actually into a girl for more than her body?
“Since I caught my first glimpse, yes.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I felt a hard slap against my arm.
“Ouch, why’d you hit me?” My opposite hand reached across to rub the offended area.
“She’s a nice girl, Cash. Something has hurt that girl, broken the poor thing. She’s obviously trying to rebuild her life. She’s not a conquest for you.” Her stern gray eyes bore into me. I know Gran loves me, adores me even, but she also knows that I’m a love ‘em and leave ‘em kind of guy. She hates that I’m like that, but she knows it all the same. I hate that she knows that. I wish she wasn’t all fucking knowing, but she is.
“I wasn’t planning to make her a conquest, Gran. She’s just… different. I don’t know how to explain it. I just want to talk to her.”
“No!”
“Why not?”
“I just explained why not! Have you suddenly lost your mind and ability to listen? Leave that girl alone. I mean it, Cash. She’s not the girl for you.”
I feel my anger bubble just below the skin surface. How dare she tell me who I can and can’t talk to? She is my grandmother, yes, and she’s taken care of me since my parents died, but I’m a grown fucking man. I make my own goddamn decisions.
“You think she’s not good enough for me? The elitist coming out in you finally? Don’t want your grandson dat
ing trash?” I bite back, knowing damn good and well that’s not the reason, but I don’t care. I’m pissed and even more frustrated that this girl, this strange girl whom I’ve never even talked to or seen at a closer range than fifty feet, is making me so crazy. Crazy enough to snap at my eighty year old grandmother.
Gran’s little hand reaches up and slides across my face. She’s only ever hit me one other time. I came home drunk off my ass at sixteen. Stumbled in like it was no big deal. Told her to fuck off when she questioned me. She didn’t take that too well and smacked me good a few times until I apologized. I deserved it. I was being a dickhead teenager. Now I’m being a dickhead man.
“You listen here, young man, you know better than to say that about me! Of all the people for you to accuse of being a rich bitch, I am not that kind of woman! You know better. Now, take me home, Cash. Between you making me worry last night and most of today, and now this, I’ve had enough of you.” She leans back in her seat, buckling her seatbelt. I look back one last time to see stranger girl leaving the laundromat, her basket tucked under her arm, her hood still up over her head. I glance over at my grandmother who sits stubbornly with her arms crossed. A mixture of hurt and anger settle on her aging face. I’m a dick.
Not knowing what to say I back out of the parking spot and drive towards Gran’s house. I should say I’m sorry. I know that much, but it won’t be enough, I know that too. I am also well aware of the fact that Gran is not a rich bitch or elitist, in fact, she’s just the opposite. She only keeps up appearance in that circle of people for business and charity purposes. She has no real friends anymore, and I’m her only living family. She’d have a dozen friends at least if she were one of them. She’s not and never will be. She’d rather be a lonely old woman in a laundromat than to succumb to the lifestyle demanded of millionaire women.
I pull into her driveway and slowly come to a stop. “Gran, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean those things I said,” I begin, but she cuts me off.
Millionaire (The Laundromat Chronicles Book 1) Page 2