“Three days.”
Yes.
Three days.
I can workmiraclesin three days.
I hold out a hand. “Shake on it.”
His hand is clammy when he puts it in mine, and he’s still staring at me like he wants to strangle me, but he shakes firmly without trying to murder my hand bones, even though I’m convinced he could. Dude must’ve spent alotof time in the gym the past few years. “Three days.”
“A sum of money under a million to be deposited into an account I name at the end of three days.”
“For your silence.”
“And my help.”
“Mostly your silence. Get in the back seat. And be quiet.”
If he’s expecting me to get out of the car to get into the back seat, he’s going to be very disappointed.
He can’t get rid of me that easily.
I unbuckle and wiggle between the front two seats to climb into the back.
Probably flash him my ass cheeks on the way.
I donotmiss wearing thongs now that I go to work in boots and thick denim every day, and I’d prefer to not be wearing one now.
He makes a strangled noise. “And I’m buying you new clothes.”
“Perfect.” I flop into the back seat beside the lone suitcase he brought out of the cabin this morning that’s half-full of protein bars, turn to face forward, and strap myself in, noting that his cheeks have gone a shade of pink. He definitely saw my ass. “I’ll teach you how it’s done. Hand me my phone, and I’ll direct you to the nearest farm goods store. You’re gonna love it.”
He doesn’t hand me my phone.
He does heave another sigh though.
Fine.
Whatever.
I’ll get it soon enough.
We’ve declared a truce, and I have three days.
This…might actually end okay.
5
I CAN BE NORMAL
Oliver
Three days.
Or less if I decide to drop Daphne off at a hotel, call Margot, ask her to do me one final favor, and then I can truly disappear.
Not that that’s a good option either.
