"But I have to live there!" she moaned.
"Yep. That's the unfair part of it all. Unfortunately, that's their problem to work out, not yours, but next time they start fighting, maybe you should tell them that it makes you uncomfortable?"
"They'll just send me to my room again," she grumbled. "I usually call Dad and ask him to pick me up."
Interesting. "Does he?"
She nodded. "Yeah. And if he can't, he'll talk to me on the phone."
"Sounds like you already know how to deal with it, then." And I pointed at the clock. "Oops. We were supposed to talk for an hour. I kinda lost track of time and it's almost been an hour and a half. Your dad is probably having a panic attack." So I tilted my head at the door. "Go tell him you're ok, and when you're done, you can let Violet know if she should hire me."
"I think she should," Faith said. "You're not like I thought. You're actually kinda cool." Then she trotted her ass out of the room, leaving the door open behind her.
I just chuckled as I reached back for my records. Yeah, that girl had a lot going on, but I had a feeling she'd be able to handle it. Unfortunately, it sounded like most of her issues were related to her mother. She had no support system to lean on when the girls at school picked on her, and then her mom inadvertently piled more onto Faith's already heavy shoulders. Nothing was bad, but at that age, it felt like an entire mountain.
But Luke seemed to be her savior. I'd talk to him later about ways to make Faith's life easier. I had a funny feeling he would be more than willing to step up. The man sounded like the perfect father. The only problem was that I couldn't stop thinking that only made him sexier. Maybe I should just tell him? No. Not at the same time as talking about Faith. I was pretty sure he wouldn't hear anything but that his kid needed him.
Chapter Thirty-One
Igrabbed a pair of beers and a flavored water from the fridge, and headed out back. Luke had just left to take Faith home, but he said he'd be back. Cy was sitting on the porch, still working on writing up his notes from the session, so I dropped both beers beside him, then took the chair across the table. Kicking my heels up on the top, I leaned back and waited for him to pause for a second.
"Well?" he asked without looking up.
"You're hired," I said. "And you're going to need to schedule at least one day a week for her. I'll pay you for that."
"No," he said around a laugh, "you won't. Luke's balls couldn't take it, and I'm gonna make him work it off. Will save his pride."
"With what?" I asked.
"Teaching me how to cut hay." He looked over to flash me a devious smile. "I like the guy, Vi."
"He's a pretty good guy," I agreed.
"Wrong like. I'm saying your boyfriend gets me hard. That he's a great dad? I think my heart skipped a beat each time he doted on that kid."
I groaned playfully in agreement. "I know! It's like he turns the man up to max when he's around her. Makes my panties wet."
"You two would have cute kids," he mumbled.
"Not having kids," I said. "Not for years, and then I'll be too old for that too."
He clicked the pen to retract the tip, closed his folder, and then grabbed his beer. "I'm guessing modeling is the other thing you're referring to?"
"Yeah." I tried not to sigh, but it still came out. "I'm not ready to be an old lady."
"You will never be an old lady," he promised. "You're also gorgeous, amazing, and powerful. Two of those are timeless. The other is a false construct that you need to stop letting control your life."
"Yes, Dr. Marshall," I teased.
"Yeah, yeah," he shot back, "but I'm also serious. Do you think I'd be jacking off to the thought of you naked if you weren't hot? Not you as a kid. Not you on the runway. You, Violet, the woman who stood down that asshole from next door. The woman who looks amazing before she even paints her face. The one who's..." He paused to tap at his fingers. "Twenty-eight this year?"
"Yeah, just after Gran died. Two years until the industry all but kicks me out."
"And Magenta owns the industry," he countered. "Fuck their size double zero, six foot tall rules. You already broke one."
"I'm six feet tall in the right heels," I assured him.
"And you look much better this size than you ever did on the runway. Hell, I'm obsessed with the tits, truth be told. Never mind that you finally have a real ass. We won't talk about what I'd do to that." Then he waved it all away. "My point is that you're still a child. I just turned thirty, and that's all I hear. People throw your age around as an easy way to put you down, or me, or that little girl. It's easy to use because it's something you can't change. So, fuck 'em."
