Prologue – Poppy

Enjoy what you have while you have it because one day, something might come and fuck it all up for you.

Well, that’s not exactly how the quote goes, but it’s exactly how it feels now as I stop my brand-new red Audi convertible—a seventeenth-birthday present—in the driveway. I grip the steering wheel, my heart racing as I take in the scene. The distant chatter of police radios fills the air, punctuated by the occasional door slam. The flashing police lights momentarily blind me, casting eerie blue and red shadows on the mansion’s facade.
An FBI agent, all sharp suit and stern face, strides over. “Miss Lockwood?” he asks. Before I can respond, he’s opening my car door. The implied command is clear: Get out.
“What’s going on?” Panic edges my voice. My mind races, trying to find a reason. Could this be about the silly prank I pulled on Ethan Hawthorne? Only some Jell-O in his locker, petty revenge for what he did to my Louboutins. But as I take in the swarm of officers and the gravity on their faces, I realize this is way beyond any high school drama.
“Poppy!” my mother screams, coming out of the house with tears running down her face, ruining her usually perfect makeup. I can hardly recognize her as she stops in front of me. I’d never seen my mother other than perfectly presentable.
“Poppy!” Mom’s voice breaks through my thoughts. She’s a mess, mascara streaking her face. “They’re taking him. They’re taking everything!”
“Taking w—” The rest of the sentence dies on my lips as I see two police officers exit the house with my father walking between them in handcuffs.
“Poppy, calm your mother down! We can’t have the neighbors talking. Remember, appearances are everything…” He doesn’t finish his sentence as the police officer shoves him not so nicely in the back of the patrol car.
I huff; that’s my father in a nutshell—far more worried about what our posh neighbors from Ridge Hill will think of my mother’s outburst than the reasons for him being taken away and our house being invaded by the authorities.
“I’ll take care of her. I’ll go to school and pick up the boys,” I shout at him, suspecting he can’t hear me from the car that is already going down our paved driveway.
I turn to my mother. “Get in the car, we’re go—”
The agent’s grip tightens on my car door. “Sorry, but you’re not going anywhere in this. Everything in Alan Lockwood’s name is now government property.”
I square off with him, scowling at his hand on my car as anger bubbles up. “This is my car. You can’t just take it!” I add, tapping my foot for good measure.
Very mature, Poppy. I can hear my mother’s voice in my head, and she would be telling me off if she was not a crying mess.
“The car, as well as all the assets, are registered to Alan Lockwood and, therefore, are now seized by the US government.” I can’t believe this is happening. Merely hours ago, I was worried about school assignments, and now, our entire world is collapsing. How did we get here?
I keep on scowling, unmoving from my spot in front of the open car door.
“Please step away from the vehicle,” he adds, his previous calm, almost gentle demeanor taking an exasperated edge.
I look at my mother, her distress now making so much more sense.
“Everything, Poppy, they are taking everything.”
My entire life, as I knew it, is unraveling before my eyes. The world I grew up in. The luxuries I took for granted are all crumbling. I’m left standing in the wreckage, wondering what comes next.

Chapter 1

I winced, looking at my reflection in the floor-length mirror. “It won’t work,” I grumbled, pulling down the black pencil dress that Angela, my way-too-bossy best friend, made me wear.

“Why not?”

I turned around, meeting the genuine confusion on Angela’s face. “Do you really need to ask?”

She frowned. “Yes, I really do. You look stunning!” She adjusted the wide red belt higher on my waist and took a couple of steps back before sitting on the corner of the bed, crossing her long leg like a graceful Ballerina. Angela had more grace in her little toe than I had in my whole body.

I huffed with exasperation turning back toward the mirror, twisting my mouth with indecision at my reflection. The sophisticated hairdo, the smoky eyes and red lips, the red blouse and tight pencil skirt – it wasn’t me, not even a little.

“Don’t look so disgusted, it’s offensive. You said you liked the new collection and now it seems like you’d rather be caught dead than to go out in this outfit.” She sighed. “It’s great for my self-confidence.”

I rolled my eyes. “This guilt won’t work, Angela.” She was a great designer, and she knew it. She had built her own company while modeling and had been in Vogue five times both for her looks and designs before turning 30.

I sighed in rendition, turning toward her again. “Yes, I do love your new collection.” I admitted sitting beside her on the bed.

Angela’s bed was high as both she and Tom were tall. I looked down, and while my best friend’s legs were gracefully folded, they still touched the floor, mine were dangling like a child’s.

I shook my head in defeat. “I love these clothes on you, Ange. It looks stunning on a 5’10, size 4 blond goddess like you.” I ran my forefinger back and forth on the hem of the skirt which rose above my knees as I sat down. “It doesn’t look so hot on the 5’3, size 14 plain jane.”

Angela’s mouth tightened in frustration. “I’d love for you to see yourself how I see you – for once.”

“You love me,” I replied.

“I – do.” She trailed off, visibly confused about my train of thought. “You need to rewind honey and give me the cliff notes.”

This was a common occurrence with me and even after over twenty years of friendship, I still managed to confuse her. Sometimes my thoughts were going faster than my mouth and it was like jumping chapters of a book.

“I mean that your vision of me is biased because you love me. For you, I will always be beautiful.” I gave her a half shrug. “Love makes you blind, doesn’t it?”

“Oh, I am not blind! When I see you in your sweatpants, in desperate need of a shower because you and Tom spent thirty-six hours playing online for some stupid wizard quests…believe me, at that moment, you look horrendous and my husband?” She grimaced. “He puts me off for a few days.”

I chuckled, waving my hand dismissively. “You knew what you were doing when you adopted a geek as a best friend, and you joined the club when you married into geekhood.”

She tried to scowl but the smile tucking at her lips defeated the attempt. She stood up, pulling me up with her. “Anyway, any discussion on this is pointless. You promised to let me play dress-up with you for one night.”

I grimaced, pulling at that stupid skirt once more. “Yes, but it was for your 30^th birthday. You said you wanted to do a makeover. I was a bit drunk, I said yes but…” I turned toward the mirror again. “It was months ago, I’m pretty sure the statute of limitation has run out on that gift, come to think of it.”

I met her gaze in the mirror. My best friend rolled her eyes before swirling me around, keeping her hands tightly on my shoulders. “Don’t go all lawyer on me, you didn’t give me an expiration date, and tonight is the night.”

I pulled on my skirt once more. “Okay, let’s just get tonight over with.” I resigned myself to defeat.

“That’s the spirit!” Angela chirped, ignoring my sore mood. “Now, get this juicy butt into gear. You gave me one evening and I really intend to make the best of it.”

“I really intend to make the best of it.” I mimicked with a high-pitched voice following her down the stairs.

Tom and their seven-year-old son George were waiting for us at the bottom of the stairs by the door. George was already dressed up in his cute Star Wars pajamas that I’d bought him for Christmas.

“Oh, Auntie Ale, you look so pretty,” he said in awe, taking a step toward me. “You look like a girl.”

I chuckled, ruffling his thick, dark, tightly coiled hair. “Do you like me like that?” I asked, readjusting the belt around my waist.

“I always like you.” He grinned, reaching for my hand.

My smile widened. That kid was such a charmer, like his mother.

“What do you want buddy?”

He pointed behind him. “Dad bought the new Lego game today, wanna play with us?”

Angela glared at Tom who looked away with a guilty smile.

I looked longingly at the PlayStation and the bowl of popcorn. What wouldn’t I give to trade this stupid skirt for my sweatpants and play with my boys all evening?

Angela crossed her arm on her chest. “Tom, you promised to wait.” She pointed a finger at the TV. “You know our son must be in bed by 8pm.” She looked suspiciously between the two people who, I knew, were the loves of her life. These two were a team, thick as thieves.

She looked at Tom again. “He’s got school tomorrow, not everyone is on vacation.”

Tom shrugged, a small smile tugging on his wide lips. “The perks of being a university professor.” He turned toward me. “You scrub up well, munchkin.” He pulled me in one of his overwhelming papa bear hugs. “Say the codeword if you need me to get you out of there,” he whispered, only half-joking.

I chuckled, patting his back. “Don’t worry, I’ll survive Angela.”

“Hey! Hey! No! No scheming!” She broke our hug. “Come on, you’re going to wrinkle her blouse.” She sighed resting her perfectly manicured hands on her narrow hips. “Seriously, one evening!” She pointed her forefinger up. “I’m asking you ONE evening and you are being difficult.”

Tom and I looked at each other sheepishly. Ange put up with our crap all the time. All I had to do was pretend not to hate it as much as I did.

“Fine.” I sighed. “Come on, let’s go.” I looked once more at the boys and the amazing evening ahead of them. “You have fun, okay?”

Tom nodded, giving Georgie a piggyback. “Try to have fun tonight.”

I nodded. “I’ll do my best, let me know how the game is, we can maybe play tomorrow.”

“Uber’s here!” Angela shouted, and I knew she only wanted to get out of the house before I could think of a reason to stay home.

*****************

The bar Angela picked was not one of our usual hang-out spots but again, as I was not wearing my usual jeans and large shirts, I was quite grateful we went somewhere I would never go again.

I looked around; most of the customers of the bar were men in suits. “Is there anything I’m missing?”

“Nope…” Angela gave me a mischievous grin. “I’ve researched our night out for a long time, my friend. I knew it was probably my only chance to play dress-up with you, I wanted to make it count.”

“What did you do? Google ‘bars for male professionals?’”

At Angela’s slight blush, I burst into laughter. The kind of full belly, teary-eyes laugh – probably the most unattractive laugh there was, but so liberating.

“You did, didn’t you?”

Angela threw me a dark look. “No, I didn’t just…shut up.” She finished rather lamely, confirming that I wasn’t far from the truth. “I – oh, get lost. I’ll get us some drinks.”

I was still chuckling when she came back with two very brightly colored cocktails.

“What is that?” I asked, suspiciously eyeing the electric blue of the cocktail in front of me.

Angela straightened in her chair. “Won’t tell you, you dare mock your friend and expect my secrets?” She shook her head. “It’s a no from me.”

I took a sip of the cocktail, the aftertaste of pineapple, a clear tell of a Blue Hawaiian. “Come on, you’re always so perfect compared to us mere mortals. It feels so good to be able to laugh at you occasionally.”

Angela threw me her best glare before taking a sip of her drink.

My grin widened as I looked down at my drink, mixing the cocktail with the little pink umbrella.

“May I buy you a drink?” asked a deep voice. I rolled my eyes, keeping my head down. Here we go… It never took much time for men to start hitting on Angela despite the shiny wedding ring she always proudly displayed.

Angela’s pointy shoe connected not too softly with my shin.

I looked at her startled as she jerked her head to her right.

I glanced up and met a pair of amused eyes. I frowned, detailing the man standing in front of our table. He was wearing a grey suit, nothing quite uncommon about it but working with Angela for years allowed me to see that it was a perfect cut, tailor-made for this man. I looked down at his shoes, black, long, shiny … expensive. My grandma used to say that you could say a lot about a person based on their shoes and this man was breathing money. My eyes trailed up his long muscly legs, wide chest, broad shoulders, golden-brown skin, strong stubborn jaw, square chin, full, sensuous lips, straight nose, almond-shaped cornflower blue eyes, black, lustrous, curly hair.

All in all, he was a splendid male specimen and weirdly enough he was turned toward me.

“What?” I asked, oh so gracefully when I finished staring at him.

His smile widened, flashing a perfect set of straight pearl white teeth. Of course, he had perfect teeth, that man was the poster boy for Photoshop – ridiculous!

Angela’s pointy shoe connected with my shin once again. I winced and glared at her; this one was so hard I suspected I was bleeding.

“I asked if you wanted to have a drink with me,” he asked, visibly undeterred by my less-than-classy attitude.

“Why?” I asked and moved my legs quickly enough to avoid Angela’s unforgiving shoe. I smiled victoriously at her when she missed.

“Why not?” he insisted, seemingly oblivious to the silent war going on between Ange and me.

I opened my mouth but closed it again, not sure how I could answer a ‘why not’. “There is no space,” I insisted as the thought of blowing it with that guy really didn’t sit well with me.

Ange stood up, her phone in her hand. “Just take my seat for a little while, I have a couple of calls to make.”

I threw her a look I hoped conveyed both my anger and desperation. She couldn’t leave me here with Model Boy! I was barely socially functioning on the best of days, being alone with him would probably lead to nothing less than a disaster.

I was used to making a fool of myself. I’d had years of experience really but never before in front of someone so aesthetically perfect.

Oh well, there was a first time for everything. Unable to contain my sigh before sipping on my drink, I studied the stunning man sitting across from me.

He was looking back at me, his eyes lit with amusement, a shadow of a smile on his luscious lips.

I narrowed my eyes slightly. What was his end game? “You know, if you’re trying to get friendly with me to get with Angela, you’re wasting your time. I’m not easy to befriend, and Angela is happily married.”

He shrugged, leaning back in his chair, letting his long fingers travel up and down his beer bottle. “I’m sure you’re easier to befriend than you’re giving yourself credit for. As for your friend, it’s a good thing I’m not sitting here for her, because she just got into a taxi.”

I turned around so briskly I almost fell off my chair. Yeah… How to be poised. I looked around the bar and despite being busy I knew I wouldn’t have missed the lithe beauty Angela was. “I just…” I shook my head. No, it wasn’t possible – Angela knew how awkward I was in a social situation, she wouldn’t do that. “Something must have happened – She wouldn’t,” I muttered mostly to myself.

I grabbed my phone on the table, ignoring the man still sitting across from me. Why was he even still there? I was being far from pleasant.

I was about to call Angela when a text popped up on the screen. Decided to go home, everything is fine. Enjoy your evening with hunky man *wink wink*

I looked at the man still staring at me and I blushed under the intensity of his scrutiny. People never bothered giving me a second glance.

You’re so dead. I texted back before jamming the phone furiously in my bag.

His smile broadened, as he leaned closer crossing his arms on the table.

“Are you a sociopath?” I blurted before wanting to bury myself under the shame of my question. And so, it begins….

He chuckled; his eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I must admit I’ve never been asked that before. Well no, I’m not, at least I don’t think so. Are you?”

I shook my head, still muted by my own embarrassment.

He nodded. “Okay, now that we’ve got that out of the way, maybe we try to get to know each other better, don’t you think? What’s your name?”

“Ale- Alessandra but my friends call me Al or Ale. Well, some call me Sandra but I’m not a fan and –” Just shut up, Ale.

He extended his hand. “Well nice to meet you, Alessandra.”

I looked at his hand, somehow reluctant to take it. I was alone in a bar with an Adonis, no friend, no safety net to get me out of this nightmare in the making. I knew my hands were probably clammy, and there was no way I would touch him.

“We already established I’m not a sociopath.” He grinned, exposing dimples. I almost wanted to roll my eyes at this little detail. Could he be more perfect?

I wiped my hand on my skirt as discreetly as I could before taking his hand, and as his soft, warm palm engulfed mine, I felt shivers go up my arm to the back of my neck.

I let go of his hand rather briskly and folded my hands on my lap, far from any temptation to see if the tanned skin was as soft as it looked.

“And what’s your name?”

It took a couple of seconds for him to answer. “Nathan… my name is Nathan.”

I frowned ever so slightly at the hesitation. Was it even a hesitation? I cursed myself, stupid work was getting to me again. Not everything you hear needs to be analyzed Ale, let it go.

“Nathan…” I repeated and suddenly his face lifted as if hearing his name pleased him.

“So, Alessandra, what are you doing as a living?”

“I’m a lawyer – I work for a fashion brand.”

“Oh, are you?” He cocked his head to the side. “I wouldn’t have expected that.”

“Why?” I pursed my lips as I felt the blush of anger hit my neck. “Is it the lawyer or the field I work in?” I shook my head, somehow not able to contain the disappointment I felt. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. Either you think I’m too stupid to be a lawyer, or I don’t look the part, either way, you’re offending me.” I grabbed my bag and stood, intending to leave and somehow feeling relieved that I decided to make an escape before making a fool of myself.

He grabbed my forearm, not hard enough to cause discomfort but with enough strength to show me that he was not going to let go easily.

“I think you misinterpreted. You’re so… luminous and funny. Not really what I imagined of a company lawyer. If I offended you in any way, I’m sorry, you are not what I expected and it was meant as a compliment even if I had to admit it was delivered quite poorly.”

His seemingly genuine contrition mollified me. I looked at him, still clutching my bag.

“Please?” he added.

“I can’t stay late.”

“One drink, I promise.” He gestured to the chair I’d vacated.

I sighed. How much trouble could my mouth get me in over the course of just one drink? A lot… a lot of trouble was the correct answer, but I sat down, anyway. “One drink.”

He nodded, his bright smile back on his face, gesturing to the barman for a round of drinks. “I just thought you would…I just thought you would be the type of lawyer to save the widows and the orphans… You seem to radiate goodness.”

I nodded, taking a sip of my drink. “I’m saving the world of poor fashion one contract at a time.” It seemed quite ironic all things considered as my idea of dressing up was to swap my ratty sweatpants for a pair of jeans and the holey tee-shirt for one of my many pleated shirts.

“The world should thank you.” He joked.

I grinned, leaning back in my chair, starting to feel a bit more at ease. “What about you?”

“Ah.” He nodded, looking down at this beer. “I’m not saving the world.”

“We can’t all be doing that.”

His smile widened. “No, I guess we can’t. I’m an architect.”

“Oh!”

His smile widened. “See, should I get offended at the look of surprise on your face?”

I tried to school my features. “No, I…” I cleared my throat. “I’ve never met an architect before, that’s all.”

He cocked his head to the side. “Your life is now complete.”

I couldn’t help but snort at his comment. Way to be sexy Ale. “It must be quite fulfilling to see your creations take life.”

He nodded. “It really is, it’s like leaving a little piece of me to the world.”

“Quite a unique way to be immortal.”

He scrutinized my face as if this statement surprised him. “It really is.”

Things went well, and I was amazed to realize after an hour that I was enjoying myself.

“It’s getting late… I’ve to go.” And I was surprised by my own disappointment.

Nathan nodded as I ordered my ride home. “Let me walk you out.”

“You don’t have to.”

He smiled again, and I started to understand that while other men might be running from my social inadequacies, this one seemed amused by them.

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to.” He helped me with my jacket. “Shall we?” He rested his hand on my back.

I nodded mutely and let him lead me outside, unsure of what to say.

As he stood on the sidewalk, he turned toward me, burying his hands in his pockets. “I would like to see you again.” He admitted, looking down at me, his eyes slightly cocked to the right.

“Why?” I had been a social disaster; I’d done pretty much everything that Angela and every women’s magazine ever told us not to do. He should have been running in the opposing direction, not standing close to me, asking for more.

“Why?” he asked, repeating me and then he laughed, leaning back on his heels. “Well, because you are genuine, it’s refreshing. You make me laugh more than I thought was possible, even if it is despite yourself but also because you are clever, witty, inquisitive, and absolutely lovely.”

I looked down at my shiny shoes and the piece of gum fused with the sidewalk. Compliments. That was the worst, I was not used to receiving them, and I was clueless on how to deal with them.

I looked up, trying to avoid his intuitive crystal-blue orbs which seemed to read me like an open book.

I could hear Angela so clearly in my head. Just say thank you, Ale. And yet, against my own advice, I pointed a finger to my outfit. “It’s all make-up and smart clothes you know – Smoke and mirrors.”

He leaned down, so close I smelled the mix of the beer on his breath and his woodsy aromatic cologne. “You should give me more credit, love, there isn’t much I haven’t already figured out,” he whispered close to my ear, making me shiver.

I looked over his shoulder and felt a wave of relief at the Uber rounding the corner. “My car is here!” I exclaimed, taking a couple of steps back, but he followed my lead, not letting me add the much-needed distance between us.

He looked at the car and took a step to the right, blocking my view and access to the car. “So, what do you say Alessandra? Lunch, you and me, tomorrow.”

“If I say yes, will you let me get into the car?” I fidgeted.

He brought his hand up and crossed his heart. “Scout’s honor.”

“I don’t really think it’s how it’s done.”

“I don’t know.” He grinned leaning down. “I’ve never been a scout.”

I chuckled, shaking my head. I liked how, despite my nervousness and inadequacies, he still managed to make me feel at ease, at least as much as ease as I ever felt in the company of an attractive member of the opposite gender. “Yes.”

He rocked back on his heels. “One more thing – Can I have your phone?”

I tightened my hold on it, my phone was pretty much an extension of my person.

He raised his hands in surrender. “I just want to give you my number and call for you to have mine.”

“Oh yes that makes sense.” I was grateful for the low lighting in the street hiding my embarrassment. “Of course, we have to exchange numbers!” Basic and yet… I sighed.

As his smile wavered, I understood that he mistook my sigh for a sign of reluctance. “It’s alright. Take my number and send me yours if you feel like it.” He reached in his pocket and scribbled his phone number on the back of the bar receipt. “I’ll be waiting for you at 12:30 at Urban. I really hope you don’t change your mind.”

I shoved the piece of paper in my pocket as he moved out of the way.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asked again as I opened the car door.

I looked at him for a minute, somehow still expecting it to be a joke, a dream, or even some kind of vivid fever-induced hallucination, but no, it was real – this more-than-gorgeous man wanted to spend time with me.

“Yes, see you then.”

Much later that night, when I was safely in my comfy bed in my favorite flannel pajamas – I kept thinking about the evening and Nathan.

“Nathan…” I let the name out as if to break the spell. I reached for my phone on the nightstand and stared at my new added contact still unsure of what to do. I ran my thumb on the smartphone screen over his name. I’d never been good at opening up to people, letting them in was the best way of getting hurt and I had been hurt enough for one lifetime.

It’s only your number Ale – not an organ. I knew it was a bit late to send a text, but he was the reason for my sleeplessness and therefore deserved to be woken up.

You can call me Ale. I texted, not sure of what else to say.

The answer came seconds later, before I even got a chance to put the phone back on the nightstand, at least it was good to know that he was as restless as I was.

See, befriending you was easy. See you tomorrow Ale 😉

Chapter 1 – Nazalie

It was all a mistake. I realized that now, standing in front of Carter King’s desk. His emotionless, cobalt-blue eyes locked on to me. His lips pursed. His big hands lay flat on the desk. He was obviously more than annoyed by my presence in his office and who could blame him.

Physically, Carter King, aka ‘Sin,’ had always been imposing. At six four,’ he had the body of a linebacker. With olive skin, wavy hair so black it looked blue at times, a powerful jaw that seemed chiseled from marble, and full lips, he was so gorgeous it was ridiculous. He looked like one of the cover models on the dark romance novels I shamefully enjoyed so much, except without the photoshop. He was just that beautiful. He had been a force to reckon with even in high school, walking the corridors as if he’d owned the place. In so many ways he had.

I’d thought Carter was a force of nature back then, but now, almost ten years later, I realized that he hadn’t even been close to his full potential. Now he was downright terrifying. And he hadn’t even uttered a word yet.

God, Nazalie. You’ve made the wrong move, girl. I sighed. Desperation was a funny thing; it made you do things against your better instincts.

“Having an internal debate?” he asked flatly as he leaned back in his leather chair. “Since you barged into my office uninvited, I would really like to know what’s going on in that demented head of yours.”

Demented? I frowned. “I’m not demented.”

He cocked an eyebrow, a mocking half-grin settling on his face. “You’ve been harassing my team and secretary for the past few days, then you pull a Houdini past security to stand in the middle of my office, fidgeting like a fish out of water. Your sanity, girl, needs to be questioned.”

“I tried to contact you about my father, but you ignored me.”

He leaned forward and placed his elbows on the desk. Linking his fingers together, his head hovered over them. “You’ve got five minutes. Use them wisely.”

I realized then that he had no idea who I was. We’d gone to the same high school for three years. He’d spent a lot of that time belittling me and the other kids that had been there on scholarships. Though, I guess, it wasn’t really surprising that he didn’t recognize me. Why would he remember the chubby girl with thick-rimmed glasses and a retainer that had stayed around way too long? The girl who had pretty much been a volunteer for every cause around school and had always earned an eye roll whenever she’d tried to raise awareness.

“My father is a patient at Willows Care Home. I can’t— My place is not safe for him.” I grimaced at the thought of my top-floor box studio apartment, which strangely smelled like cat pee even though I didn’t own a cat. Although there was some black mold growing around that lone single-glass window… Shaking my head, I added, “They’re about to kick him out because I’m a bit late on payments. Please, I—”

“And this is my problem because…?” He trailed off, his face just as impassive as it’d been in school. 

“Because he is a sick old man who needs care,” I growled. “Because he’s worked his entire life at the tire factory and lost everything, including his retirement when King Holdings did a hostile takeover when they replaced the factory with condos. King Holdings is the majority shareholder in the Willows Care Home; this is the right thing to do and—”

“The right thing to do?” he asked, his tone mocking. “I believe you’re mistaking me for a charity, little girl—”

“Nazalie,” I interrupted him. ‘Little girl’ aggravated me. I knew I looked young, but I was his age.

“What?” he asked, frowning with obvious displeasure. He was not a man that took kindly to being interrupted.

“I’m Nazalie Mitchell, not ‘little girl.’ I’m not that young; I’m twenty-eight.”

“Nazalie…” He cocked his head to the side, detailing me with his eerie eyes. He was really looking at me now and I didn’t like that. “You went to Fordham High, didn’t you?”

I nodded once.

His aggressive pose relaxed slightly as he leaned back in his chair. “You’re the goody two-shoes charity case.”

“Scholarship student.”

He waved his hand dismissively. “Same difference. Why should I help you?”

“Kindness?”

“Kindness.” He laughed like I’d just said the funniest thing he’d ever heard. “As I said before, I’m not a charity. I’m a businessman. I don’t grant favors unless I’ve got something to gain. What are you offering?”

“I have three jobs right now. My time is…” I chuckled. “I have no time. But I could quit one of my jobs and”—I shrugged—“I don’t know, work for you?”

“In exchange for what? Letting your father stay at Willows?”

I nodded.

He sighed, tapping his forefinger against the desk in an almost hypnotic beat. “Come back tomorrow.”

I shook my head, certain he was just discarding me. “No, I—”

He slammed his hand on his desk, stopping me in my tracks. “I said tomorrow!”

When he stood up, I realized my memory hadn’t rendered him justice. He was not only imposing, he was downright terrifying.

“I could pick up the phone and have you thrown out within five seconds. Hell, you’re so tiny, I could pick you up with one hand and throw you out myself.”

I took a step back instinctively, but my fear didn’t stop my surprise. I was short, sure. I barely grazed five two, but I’d never been called tiny before. No, my clothes had been in the double digits since I’d hit puberty. I was strongly on the ‘curvy’ side of the scale. My figure was not something that bothered me. I had wonderful times. I had gentle boyfriends who loved me exactly how I was, but ‘tiny’ was simply not an adjective people usually used to describe me. Although, I guessed that everything was tiny for this mountain of a man.

I met his eyes, trying to hold them despite the terrifying scowl.

“I don’t appreciate having my words questioned. I said come back tomorrow, so that’s exactly what you’ll do. I have no qualms about throwing you out. When I said come back tomorrow, I meant it. Don’t make me reconsider.”

I nodded, too eager to escape the confines of his office and his overwhelming presence.

“Good.” He took a step back, getting out of my space and allowing me to relax ever so slightly. I let out the breath I’d been holding.

“Tomorrow, ten o’clock. Don’t be late.” The finality in his voice showed he was done with me for today.

I nodded again. It truly seemed that his outburst of exasperation had taken away my ability to speak. I wasn’t used to bullies anymore.

I turned around to leave but then stopped. Tomorrow morning was my waitressing job at the coffee shop. The tips there were always decent on busy mornings. I turned back around.

“What now?”

“I— It’s just— In the morning I have a job and—”

“A job worth more than a stay at Willows?”

That was a stupid question. I could barely pay the Willows’ monthly fees with three jobs, so no, clearly not.

He must have seen that on my face because he nodded sharply. “Ten tomorrow.”

What have I done?