Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 72973 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72973 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Not wanting to draw his attention, I duck my head low and hope to all that’s holy he doesn’t take notice of me.
He walks toward me, but the stars are on my side when he heads up a hallway toward the entrance of the building.
Thank God for small mercies.
Pushing the floor polisher forward, I peek up the other hallway and drink in the sight of Mr. La Rosa’s broad shoulders.
Forget about the man, Eden. It’s a waste of time.
After my shift at the diner, I open my front door and step inside my apartment. My eyes instantly lock on the busted windowpane that’s been jimmied open. A crowbar lies on the floor, and it has anger pouring through me like hot lava.
After a grueling day at work, this is the last thing I have energy for, and I know who the culprit is.
“Mandy,” I shout, and not seeing the pain in my ass in the living room or kitchen, I rush in the direction of my bedroom. “Mandy!” Not finding her there, I head to the bathroom, where I find the god-awful woman passed out on the floor with an empty bottle of cheap rum lying beside her.
“Wake up,” I demand while I nudge her stinking ass with the toe of my sneaker. “Mandy. Wake up and get out of my place.”
She doesn’t budge at all, and not tolerating her for a second longer, I grab hold of her ankles and begin to drag her toward the front door.
“Over my dead body, am I letting you sleep here. I want you gone. Forever,” I mutter angrily.
When I lug her unconscious ass out into the hallway, Tyrone opens his door. Seeing my mother, drunk off her ass, he just shakes his head, then says, “I’ve made pot roast. Want some before you go to your second job?”
I let go of her ankles, and they land with a thud on the floor. Instantly my mood perks up as I jokingly say, “Does a bear shit in the woods?”
He lets out a chuckle then gestures into his apartment.
I shake my head. “She busted my window. I just want to fix it, then I’ll be over.”
“I’ll take a look,” Tyrone says. “Let me grab my toolbox.”
I give him a wide smile. “You’re so good to me.”
Stepping over Mandy, I head back inside and pick up the crowbar. Shaking my head, I inspect the damage to the windowpane and wonder how we’re going to fix it so Mandy can’t get in again.
“I can nail the thing shut,” Tyrone suddenly says from behind me. “But you won’t be able to use the fire escape to avoid Winston when rent is due.”
“It’s either that, or I’ll have to ask Winston to put in a new window with a lock, which will cost money I don’t have. He sure as hell won’t pay for it.”
I let out a sigh as I watch Tyrone get to work. As long as I’ve known Tyrone, I’ve never seen him with a woman. Whenever I ask him why, he just says he doesn’t have time for a romantic relationship. It’s kind of always been me and him.
He secures the wooden window frame to the windowsill with three long nails, then mutters, “Let’s go eat, baby girl.”
I wrap my arm around his lower back and give him a sideways hug as we walk out of my apartment. I quickly lock the door behind me and side-sidestepping Mandy, we head to Tyrone’s kitchen for a quick bite to eat before I have to leave for my night shift.
When Tyrone pulls a loaded plate of food out of the oven that he was keeping warm for me, there’s a swell of emotion in my heart.
I take the plate with a grateful smile, and walking to the small round table, I grab a seat.
Tyrone pulls two beers from the fridge and comes to join me.
“You still working double shifts at the diner?” he asks, even though he already knows the answer.
I enjoy a bite of the pot roast while nodding.
“You’re working yourself into the ground,” he mutters. “I made some extra money at the last construction job. Let me help you.”
“No.” I shake my head hard. “I’m not taking your money, Tyrone. You’re not doing any better than me.”
He gives me a pleading look. “We gotta take care of each other. What will I do if you drop dead from exhaustion?”
“You can take Mandy under your wing,” I joke. “She’s always hard up for a place to crash.”
“Don’t even joke about her,” he mumbles before taking a sip of beer. “It’s a fucking miracle she’s still alive.”
“She’s like a weed. Nothing kills that shit.”
He waits for me to take another bite of the healthy and delicious food, then says, “Take the money. It will help me sleep at night because right now, I’m up worrying about your ass.”