He’s just assuming what everyone else does and I can’t fault him for that, but suddenly I’m no longer hungry. I don’t talk about my mother or how much I miss her every single day with anyone, and yet here I am, talking about my parents to a total stranger.
“You were close.” He says it like a statement, and I feel the sting of tears in my eyes, because I can’t actually remember the last time someone spoke about them. My brother Dell rarely does.
A tear spills over my cheek, and I pull my hand free to swipe it away.
“To my mother, yes. She was my best friend, but she … wasn’t strong enough to leave until it was too late,” I tell him, struggling to hold back the tears that so desperately want to come.
“I can assure you that it wasn’t a member of our club who took the lives of your parents.”
We sit in an oddly comfortable silence for a beat. “We don’t rob public places, and we don’t kill innocents. It’s not our MO.”
I look away from his direct gaze, but for some reason I believe him.
A few more moments of silence pass. Sean leans back again, and as I eat a few more fries, I can feel his eyes on me. Like the wheels in his head are turning.
“You’re going to work for me.” It’s not a question; he states it like a command. “You need help with your tuition and this works perfectly.”
My eyes flick to his. “I willnotbe working for your club.” A million thoughts flood my mind, but Sean just calmly shakes his head.
“I said you’re going to work forme. Not my club. You need the money, and I would just give it to you, but in my experience, people feel better about taking money if they feel they’ve earned it.”
“I would never take it anyway,” I say defiantly. “There’s no such thing as free money.”
He nods. “Smart girl. But this will be a job, and if it helps with the cost of your schooling, then it’s a win-win.”
“What couldIpossibly do for you?” I say. I am the slightest bit curious, and as much as I want to fight it, the idea of seeing him again is too appealing to turn down.
“I need help healing my back, as you pointed out.”
“I thought you didn’t like hands on you,” I retort.
Sean watches me carefully. “I’d allow your hands on me, little dove.”
I eye him up. “Is this just your way of getting me to spend time with you?” I ask, glad to be free of the heavier conversation about my parents. “Because, I’ll be honest, all I have time for is work and school. I don’t even have time to do my laundry or clean my house.”
“I can work around your schedule.” He pops the last bit of his burger into his mouth.
“And what about your schedule? Do you work?” I bite my lip. “Aside from what you do with your club?”
He nods. “I do, but it’s very … flexible.”
I can’t for the life of me guess what he would do for a living.
Bodyguard?
Contract killer?
“I do want to spend time with you, and you’ll learn very quickly, Layla … I always get what I want.”
I shrink a little with his words because they’re so commanding.
“There’s no point in pretending otherwise,” he says easily. “I want to help you and you’re the perfect person to help me heal my back.” He takes a drink of his coconut water. “The sooner you admit you’re curious and that you want to get to know me, the easier this will be. And just so we’re clear, this life …” He pats the patch over his heart. “It isn’t black and white, and we are not all alike.”
He’s so fucking sure of himself it’s contagious. But he isn’t wrong. I’m curious about working for him—and also who he is …
“And just how long would I work for you?”
“How long will it take to see a difference if I do exactly what you say when it comes to a rehab plan?” he tosses back.
