Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 88263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
He’s everywhere. In my head, all around me. I need some space from him if I’m going to figure out what the heck I’m doing in this bizarre contractually bound marriage.
I head to Bottle of Smoke. It’s right at the dinner rush and the place is busy. I find a spot in the corner of the bar, accept a seltzer and lime from Bernie, and settle in to watch the chaos. Ash is back at waitressing alone again, which means she’s totally overwhelmed, but she pauses on her way past me and gives me a surprised frown.
“New outfit?” she asks, pointing at my shoes, eyes scanning up my jeans and blouse. Figures she’d recognize the chic style.
I shrug a little. “A friend of mine bought me some clothes.”
“Right. A friend. Sounds like something a Crowley would do.” Her lips quirk slightly. “You wouldn’t be involved with one of those, would you?”
“Never.”
“Right.”
She turns to leave, but I catch her wrist. “Hey, uh, do you need a hand? If I remember right, I’m pretty good at taking orders.”
“You don’t work here anymore, remember?”
“I know that,” I say, frustrated. “How about it’s just a friend doing a friend a favor?”
She considers me for a long moment. “Keep the tips. I’ll pay you under the table. You’re still in the system.”
“Forget paying me.” I hop to my feet. “Just try to keep up.”
It feels good, falling into my old role again, like I never left it. I’m doing this to help Ash out, but also to having something to keep my brain busy for the next few hours. I hustle around the room, laughing at bad jokes, flirting with the single guys, teasing the married men, running food and drinks. My feet hurt, my back aches, and for a few hours, I don’t think about Nolan. There’s only me and Ash, doing the job, getting the work done until the dinner rush finally lets up, and I notice Jamila sitting in my old seat at the far end of the bar. I let Ash know I’m taking a break now that she’s not overwhelmed.
Jamila nods when I approach and take the stool next to hers. “You looked like you never left,” she comments, drinking some wine. “How’d Ash rope you into helping?”
“I offered. Felt better than sitting around moping all night.”
“What are you moping about?”
“Nothing special. Just got into a fight with my best friend yesterday and that sucked.”
Jamila’s voice softens. “Yeah? What happened?”
“I was a selfish asshole. I’m still a selfish asshole though, so I’m pretty sure she’s not going to forgive me.”
“Keels, we don’t have to do this. We really don’t.” She slumps slightly, leaning closer. “I want to move on. Maybe getting into business together was a bad idea.”
“I don’t want this to ruin our friendship. I’m going to pay you back, okay? Everything you put in.”
“Keely—”
“I mean it, every dime, I’m paying you back. I can write you a check right now.” I hesitate, glancing away. “Well, maybe not right now. But definitely tomorrow.”
“Keels, come on. I know you don’t have that kind of money.” Jamila swirls her wine. “I understood the risks when this all started. You’re not giving up, are you? When the business is killing it and you’re flush, then maybe you can think about paying me back. For now, consider my investment a gift.”
“No,” I say, adamant. “I’m paying you back.”
“How?” she asks, spreading her hands. “With what?”
“I married him.”
Those three words seem to bring the entire bar to a halt.
Jamila doesn’t move. Her mouth opens, but no words come out. Slowly, she lowers her hands down into her lap, her fingers intertwining. Her knuckles turn white with stress. “You did… what?”
“It was part of the deal,” I say quickly. “It’s only for five months, and I have access to money now. I’m going to take the bare minimum, get the business going—”
“You married him?” Her voice is trembling with shock. Her expression is a mix of rage and disgust. Her stare feels like claws raking my throat. “You wouldn’t take a dime from Ash, but you married Nolan Crowley?”
“Jams, I know it’s weird, but—”
“How could you do this?” she bursts out, glaring at me now. “You realize what you did, right? You’re his now. They own you.”
I lean back, surprised by her rage. “He doesn’t own me,” I say, not sure how to respond. “It’s just a deal. The marriage—”
“This is what they do.” Her scorn is palpable and I don’t understand it. She didn’t react this way when Ash got involved with Carson—but then again, that situation was different, and Jamila’s relationship with Ash is different from her relationship with me.
“I’m not sure what you mean,” I say, trying to keep myself calm. “It’s only for five months. At the end of it, I can divorce him, keep the business, keep everything.”