The rational thing to do.
If I were June, I would have picked the rational choice right away. But I was January, so I deferred the decision until tomorrow.
Despite what he’d said, I finished wiping the dust off the bookcase, gathered the bucket, mop, and Windex, and took them back into the supply room that was tucked behind the kitchen. From there, I slipped out to the pool house.
I took a shower and brushed my wet hair. Somehow, I couldn’t just slip into my pajamas, which were just a faded pair of lounge pants and a matching hoodie. Instead, I put on a pair of jeans and a tee and left my hair down. I peered out the window. Across the empty pool, the only light in the big house was on the top floor. It poured out of Oliver’s bedroom balcony and onto the garden.
I wasn’t alone in the large property anymore. I couldn’t decide if it was better or worse.
While falling asleep had been hard for weeks, now there was a new element that kept me up when I finally went to bed—the few dozen feet that separated me and Oliver. I thought of him in that bedroom, all alone, taking his clothes off, showering naked ...
Nope.I couldn’t let my mind go there.
I hadn’t been with anyone in quite some time, and try as I might to ignore it, this man had an effect on me physically—as my panties had proven earlier—and emotionally—as my throbbing heart was evincing while I tossed and turned in a bed that he owned. I couldn’t let him own more than the place I stayed in.
I could tell that Oliver had an electric fence, a moat, and guard dogs around his heart and life. And I was in no position now to break those down as I once had.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My Pizza Pizazz stint was cut short by my mother hurting her back. June and I had to first help her, and then replace her so she wouldn’t lose her clients. I dropped the waitressing job, and though I was preparing for my finals, hoping to maintain a good average to get scholarships, and June was taking courses in alternative medicine in hopes to get a degree at some point, we both had to sacrifice study time.
Mom still worked at Mr. Madden’s, and though I hadn’t been to that house in many years, I had to go there when June couldn’t. I really didn’t feel like working at his house but didn’t trust him to not hire someone else over my mom, despite her years of service. I loathed the man and was worried about meeting Oliver in the capacity as his dad’s cleaner, but my mom assured me they were usually not home and that his dad was abroad. I didn’t see Oliver at school and didn’t know if he still worked at the pizza place, so I chose to believe my mom.
I went straight from school after last period. I had the house keys and hoped the coast was clear.
It was only a fifteen-minute walk, but after five minutes, I heard a short honk, and a rattling Ranger slowed down and stopped at the curb next to me.
Shit. He wasn’t supposed to be around.
“Aren’t you far from the bus stop?” Oliver asked through the window of his car. This was a guy who could get a new Porsche or BMW if he wanted to, but this beat-up old car was something he had bought from the money he had earned.
“Um, I’m not going to the bus stop.” I ran a hand over my hair that was tied up.
“Can I give you a ride somewhere? I’m not in a hurry to get back home ’cause he’s there.”
He obviously had no clue that I was heading the same way and lacked enthusiasm, too.
“I’m actually going to your house,” I admitted, ending the sentence with my lips bunched in a yep-sorry-I-don’t-like-it-either.
The expression on Oliver’s face … he was clearly mortified. We never spoke about how my mom worked for his dad. I knew from her that he mostly wasn’t around, and if he happened to be home, he insisted on helping her and on bringing her tea or coffee. “Though no one gets my coffee right, I let him make it so he’ll feel needed,” she had said.
“Hop in,” Oliver said.
“When did you get back?” I asked as I buckled up next to him.
“I didn’t.”
“Weren’t you abroad with your dad? My mom said …”
“No, I don’t do that anymore. I was here, just didn’t go to school on days I thought weren’t important. I was very sick.” He did a terrible impression of a mock-cough, and we both laughed. “But Mr. Madden got back last night, so today, I reported to duty at school, as usual, even though I’m still sick.” He coughed again, and we laughed.
You should have seen him. He was in a dark gray tee-shirt and black jeans. His naturally golden-tanned arms looked strong and well-defined. And his hair—God, I wanted to run my fingers through that smooth, light brown hair. His eyes were green with speckles of gray.
I sat there in my tee-shirt and fake Converse, the belly-ring I had gotten the month before, although my friends had tried to hint that I was too fat to get one, was squeezed between my skin and the button of my jeans.
“Aren’t you worried about your grades?” I asked, looking at his profile. Damn that profile. Chiseled even at almost eighteen.
“I’m good at tests, and I’m submitting all my papers on time.” He was stating facts, not bragging. I couldn’t even imagine what a bragging tone would sound like out of Oliver’s mouth.
