She jumped, eyes going wide.
“Get out,” I said, voice flat.
She hesitated, then cracked the door open when there was a space between traffic passing by. She stepped onto the curb, pulling her coat tighter. Her nose was red, her eyes puffy and glassy, probably with fever, and her hands ran up and down her arms to warm herself.
“What the hell is this, Jessa?” I gestured at the car, eyeing the pile of clothes visible through the back window.
“I told you I don’t feel well.” She coughed into the sleeve, voice hoarse. “I might be running a temperature.”
“But you drove here from Queens?” I slipped out of my trench and wrapped it around her shoulders. I pressed the back of my hand to her forehead. Heat radiated off her skin—the first time I’d touched her since that night at the lake, and even sick, the contact still sent a jolt through me.
My gaze dropped to the interior of her car. Fast-food wrappers. A duffel bag. A pillow wedged against the passenger seat.
A cold weight settled in my gut. “Are you sleeping in your car?”
She looked away, coughing again, and confirmed nothing.
“Jessa.” My voice came out sharper than I intended. “What’s going on?”
“You wouldn’t understand what it’s like, living in the real world. I came here with almost nothing. I wasn’t planning to stay unless…” Her words came tumbling out, sounding bitterly exhausted. “Then you hired me, and everything happened so fast. But the first paycheck doesn’t come for two weeks. I couldn’t afford to stay in that pay-by-day hotel in Queens another night.”
“Why didn’t you say something?” I yanked out my wallet, pulling a stack of hundreds. “I would’ve given you an advance.”
“It’s not about the money, Griffin.” She swayed slightly, and I caught her elbow. “I’m— I’m?—”
Her knees buckled.
“Jessa.” I caught her, steadying her. She trembled from fever or cold or both. “How long have you been sleeping out here?”
She wouldn’t answer.
Didn’t matter if it was one night or more. She’d been sleeping in her car. I couldn’t have Theo’s nanny homeless.
“This was a mistake,” she whispered. “I should go back to Holly Creek.”
“Like hell you will.” I steadied her against the car and opened her door. I grabbed a shopping bag inside and shoved clothes into it. “You’re staying at my place for now.”
“You don’t understand?—”
“What don’t I understand?” I turned on her, frustration boiling over. “You’re homeless, Jessa. Do you think that’s acceptable? That I’d let the woman watching my son live like this?”
She flinched, and guilt stabbed through me. But she didn’t understand how it would look for me if people found out.
I softened my tone. “Leave it to me. I’ll take care of everything. Can you walk back to the building with me?”
She nodded, eyes wet.
We started down the sidewalk, her steps unsteady. She shivered so violently I couldn’t stand it. I wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her against my side.
“I’ll have soup and medicine delivered,” I said. “Do you need a doctor?”
“It’s just a cold or a little bug.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “I don’t want to leave germs all over your place. What if Theo?—”
“I’ll call the cleaning service for an extra visit. We’ll boost his vitamins. He has a tough immune system. He’ll be fine.” I tightened my grip on her. “He’ll be upset you’ll miss his game tonight.”
“Me too.”
We were nearly at the door when two men with cameras materialized out of nowhere, lenses flashing. They called out: “Mr. West! Who’s the new girlfriend? Is this the blonde you left Club Neon with two nights ago?”
