Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 30401 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 152(@200wpm)___ 122(@250wpm)___ 101(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30401 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 152(@200wpm)___ 122(@250wpm)___ 101(@300wpm)
I slide my suitcase out from under the bed and begin tossing my clothes inside. I can’t believe I’m doing this. What about the tavern? I can’t just leave without notice. I try my best to be angry with Jack for putting me in this position, but I just can’t. I’m too excited about living in that big house with all the servants, the Olympic-size pool, and the sexy man of the house.
It’s too bad that someone like him could never fall for someone like me. Those types of things only happen in fairy tales, right? Wait, why am I even thinking like this? Shouldn’t I be more concerned about moving into that compound? I may have been tucked away from the world for most of my life, but I know how to read and Jack is in the news quite a lot.
They never come right out and say it, but the innuendo is clear. They think he’s an important member of the mob. Shouldn’t that terrify me? It should, but it doesn’t. Even this morning with his gruff tone and scowl, I feel safe with him.
I take one last look around my tiny apartment before shutting the door for what may be the last time. The landlord will be quite surprised when the rent isn’t paid next week, but it’s a relief for me. I think I’m going to like not having to stay up at night worrying if I’ll make enough tips to pay him.
The ride back to Jack’s house is just a blur. There are too many thoughts rushing through my mind for me to even concentrate on the trip. The tall man, Rory, rushes to the car to meet me and collect my bags.
“I’ll take these to your room for you. Right now, you need to go to her bedroom. She’s awake and needs to have breakfast,” he tells me.
“Breakfast? I don’t know where anything is or what she’s allowed to eat. I’m expected to just, what? Figure it out?”
“I don’t know. That’s not my job. What I do know is that the boss said to send you directly to Macy. I suggest you follow his orders.”
As much as I like to argue, I rush up the stairs because I don’t want to see that angry look on Jack’s face ever again. I’m not even sure if that really is his angry look or just his default expression.
I gently turn the knob and push the door open, beaming when I see her room for the first time. Her walls are adorned with pink and yellow wallpaper, the warm morning sunlight filtering in through the pastel-colored curtains.
At the center of the room is her bed with its frilly yellow canopy. Stuffed animals and plush toys are gathered at the foot of the bed, and she’s still in her pajamas, stretching out and kicking off the quilt with a patchwork of cartoons.
“Good morning, Macy. How are you feeling?”
“Okay.”
“I’m very new at this so maybe you can help me. Can you show me where your clothes are and where you brush your teeth?”
“Sure!” She gets out of bed and throws open the closet doors. “My clothes are here.”
“Do you want to help me pick something out? We have to hurry because you’re late for your breakfast.”
“Uncle Jack told me that.”
“He did? Did he say anything else?”
“Just that I needed to wait for you to get here.”
“Well, then. I was right. We should hurry. How about this?” I point to a pink sundress hanging in her closet.
“Oooh! I like that.” She smiles and puts on her dress before she walks to the adjacent bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth.
As we descend the stairs, she reaches out and takes me by the hand. My heart squeezes. I think maybe I can really do this, but that thought leaves me when I see Jack standing at the bottom of the stairs with his arms crossed. No, no, no. What could I have possibly done to disappoint him again?
“Uncle Jack, can I swim today?” Macy asks, and I watch his demeanor change entirely when he makes eye contact with the child. His gaze softens, and from out of nowhere, I think of how it would feel if he looked at me that way too.
“That will be up to your nanny. You’ll have to ask her, but first, you need to eat breakfast and do your lessons.”
“Can I?” the girl whispers up at me.
“I don’t see why not.”
She releases my hand and skips off toward the kitchen. I round the corner to follow her, but Jack reaches out and takes me by the arm, gently pulling me back. I try not to squirm because his touch is sending tingles down my spine.
“I trust that you can help a six-year-old with her schoolwork?” he says.