Boy, was I dead wrong. Now my entire living situation is in jeopardy if I don’t find another job in a reasonable time frame. I only just moved into this place. I lean back in my chair trying to calm my breathing and get rid of this headache. Tears threaten to form in my eyes, but I won’t let them. I won’t cry over something like this. I rock back and forth in my chair, taking in soothing breaths like I learned in that yoga class. I will fix this. I will find a way. There’s always a way.
I don’t know what to do, but I will figure out something.
My cell goes off just as I feel like I’m starting to calm down, the shrill beeping making my head throb even more. For a moment I debate on not answering it, but then I think it might be my job calling with some miraculous news, and I jump to answer it.
“Hello?” I answer breathlessly, hope soaring in my chest. It has to be one of the counseling administrators. Please God, let it be.
“Miss Wade?” A deep, authoritative voice that sounds somewhat familiar asks. I narrow my eyes trying to place the voice, but nothing is coming to mind.
I hold in a groan of despair. My left hand rubs the throbbing pain from my head as I keep the phone to my ear, closing my eyes and wishing that I would wake up from this nightmare. This isn’t my job calling to deliver a fairytale. This is more bad fucking news. I just know it.
“Yes?” I try to keep my voice steady, though I’m inches away from breaking down.
“This is Officer Johnathan Johnson with the Department of Corrections. You left a voice message on my voicemail the other day for Zach White.”
My mouth goes dry and I’m unable to even put forth the effort for an answer.
“I’m calling to inform you that Zachery White is in jail for committing a third offense.” If my laptop wasn’t right in front of me, I’d slam my head against the desk. Today is nothing but a cruel joke.
“What was the crime?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. My heart sinks in my chest and my throat closes. The state has a three strike law. My hand runs down my face as my elbows fall to the desk, my left one hitting the keyboard. I want to shove the whole thing off my desk right now I’m so upset and angry. I’m so emotional and feeling overwhelmed.
“Vandalism. He and several other kids went onto an elderly woman’s property and spray painted the side of her house.” Officer Johnson snorts a derisive grunt. “They almost gave the woman a heart attack.”
I close my eyes, my temples pulsing even harder as I remember the crowd of kids Zach was hanging with. Why couldn't that boy have just gotten in the car and gone with me? It would have gone a long way in helping him and none of this would’ve ever happened. I shake my head as my eyes close and I wish I could go back in time and just grab him. But you can’t force people to change. I can’t force him to make the right decision. No one can.
Now things are fucked.
A sharp pain lances through my skull. God. I definitely don’t need any more shit right now.
Officer Johnson obviously hears me sigh and must sense the anger and sadness behind it because he quickly speaks up. “Don’t worry Miss Wade, I’m recommending that he be sent to The Boy’s Academy, one of the best juvenile corrections program in the United States. If anything will turn your boy around, this place will. It has an impeccable record.”
Officer Johnson sounds very hopeful and upbeat. I suspect it’s mainly for my benefit, but I don’t feel any of it. I just can’t right now. That Academy is a few counties over. Strings will have to be pulled to get him there. It makes me happy though because it really does have a good reputation. I suck in a breath and try not to cry. I couldn’t help him but maybe they can. I feel like I failed Zach.
“Okay,” I say trying to sound strong, but my voice cracks. “Thank you for calling to tell me Officer Johnson. I’m going to try to reach out to Zach as soon as I’m able. You have a wonderful day.”
“Zach’s going to be all right once he’s in that program, Miss Wade,” Jonathan tries to assure me one last time. “Don’t you worry. You’ll see.”
The line goes dead and my headache seems to increase tenfold, my head pounding like it’s stuck in a vice.
Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, more shit hits the fan. Now I lost my job and probably Zach all in one day. It makes me sick to my stomach.
I open my eyes to see the email still up on the screen. The one telling me I’ve been dismissed and the program doesn’t even exist anymore.
I need to find a job. Fast. I need to find a way to raise funding for the program. My to do list just got a lot longer. I need money for my rent and the bills aren’t going to stop coming just because I unfortunately lost my job.
My heart skips a beat as I suddenly remember Sir’s offer.
No, I tell myself, shaking my head. No fucking way. I can’t- I won’t stoop that low.
Surely, I can find another way to support myself. But every option I can think about requires immense time and work. Time that I may not have.
The offer from Sir is immediate. Easy. And more money than I could ever dream of having all at once.
I don’t have to be Einstein to know which path I should take.
It doesn’t make me feel any better about it though.
Fuck it. It’s not like I don’t enjoy being with him. Like I haven’t been fantasizing about exactly what he offered me.
Sucking in a deep breath, I walk over and grab the phone that Sir gave me. My head pulses even harder, almost as if warning me away as I bring up his number and the text screen.
My heart beats along with my pounding headache as I stare at it. Everything in my mind screams at me to drop the phone, but my hands move on their own accord.
I close my eyes as I tap out the message.
Sir,
How soon can we talk about your offer?
Chapter 12
Joseph
Kiersten is so pissed. I didn’t have to tell her that I was doing exactly what she told me not to. But I did.
I don’t know why I bothered, now I’m looking at all these text messages and avoiding her phone calls. I don’t have to explain myself to anyone. The only thing she can do is kick me out of her club. I’m sorry that I’ve hurt her and that I’ve broken her rules, but I’m not going to allow her to get in my way of getting what I want.
And I fucking want Lilly.
I rise from my seat at the dining room table at the back of the restaurant as I see the maître d’ walk through the aisle with Lilly. I button my jacket as I walk towards them.
She’s already checked her coat, she must have, because the thin lace dress she’s wearing would have her freezing outside in the chilly air of January. The black fabric clings to her curves and ends just about mid-thigh. What’s most striking are her exposed shoulders, the lace straps hanging loosely off her shoulders. She’s so tempting. She calls to me like no one else ever has.
She’s absolutely breathtaking. Her lips are darker red than I’ve ever seen them before. Any other makeup she’s wearing only emphasizes her natural beauty. Her long blonde hair is pulled into a loose bun looking slightly messy.
Lilly sucks in a breath the moment she sees me and takes a small step back. She’s obviously nervous. I nod at the maître d’ letting him know he can fuck off and I take Lilly’s hand in mine, wrapping my arm around her back.