Page 3 of Callous Desire


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I glance at the wall clock where the minute hand ticks onto four-thirty. “Let’s call it a day.”

I want to get out of here before the owner gets home. My working hours are designed to be convenient for my clients. I clean when they’re out, and when they return from work, I’m gone. I have my own reasons for maintaining minimal contact. The less I’m seen, the better for everyone.

Keeping as invisible as possible doesn’t come without complications when you’re trying to make a living and take care of a kid. Someone who doesn’t want to be found can’t advertise. All my referrals are by word of mouth. A burner phone serves as a method of communication, but I only use it for emergencies such as not being able to come in when Noah is sick.

“At last,” Jazz groans, massaging her lower back.

I shoot her a guilty smile. “You didn’t have to come.”

She rolls her eyes. “I’m not even going to validate that with an answer.”

I take my tote bag from where I’ve hooked it over the back of a chair. “Have I told you how much I appreciate you?”

“Plenty.” She grabs Noah’s backpack from the sofa and winks. “You can repay me by having my cooking turn.”

I was going to handle that chore anyway. Taking turns to make dinner was her idea. She only wanted to lighten my burden, but she hates cooking more than spiders and bugs, which is an awful lot.

I go to the window and pull the curtain open on a crack, just in time to see the handyman walk down the sidewalk with a toolbox in his hand. His tall and bulky frame fills out his overalls. A baseball cap is pulled low over his face. The dark hair that shows beneath is cropped short. He drops the toolbox in the back of the truck and folds his body double to get behind the wheel. Before starting the engine, he adjusts a pair of aviator sunglasses and slides his gaze sideways.

For a terrible moment, I swear he’s staring right at me, that our gazes connect through a sliver of cheap sheer fabric. I drop the curtain like a hot potato, breaking out in a sweat, and give a start when a hand falls on my shoulder.

Spinning around, I’m met by Jazz who’s staring me in the face.

“Hey.” She studies me with a frown. “He’s just a handyman, Tiana.”

“Maybe.” I bite my lip and look back at the window. “Maybe you’re right, and I’m making a big deal out of nothing.”

Which kind of seems that way when the driver steers the truck into the street, and a few seconds later, the taillights disappear around the corner.

Either way, I’d feel better if we get out of here. I really need the money this job is going to bring, but if the truck is back tomorrow, we bail, money or not. I’ll just have to find another job elsewhere.

Unable to let my concern go, I hold out my hand to Noah. “Come on, baby. Let’s get you home.”

He bounces over with his plane but doesn’t take my hand. He’s developed a sudden allergy to holding hands. “Can I have nuggets for dinner?” He jumps up and down. “Please?”

I ruffle his hair. “If you eat all your carrot sticks.”

“Yuck.” He pulls a face. “I don’t like carrots.”

Pulling him against me, I sneak in a hug. “But they are good for you because…?”

He sighs in an animated way. “They help our bodies fight germs so that we don’t get sick.”

Exchanging the plane noises for the vrooommm of a car, he escapes my embrace and skips from the room with his arms stretched out in front of him and his hands gripping an imaginary steering wheel.

I stifle a yawn and go after him down the hallway.

Jazz falls in step next to me and nudges my shoulder. “Why don’t you relax in a warm bath when we get home? I’ll take Noah to the park before dinner. He can do with getting rid of all that pent-up energy. Otherwise, he’ll be too wound up to go to sleep.”

I’m tired to the bone, but I don’t want to make my problems Jazz’s. She’s done enough for me as it is. “I’ll be fine.”

Her soft blue eyes cloud over. “I don’t want you to end up in the hospital again.” She stops at the doorway of the kitchen and holds me back with a hand on my arm. “You have to take care of yourself.”

“That’s over now.” I keep an eye on Noah, who’s unlocking the back door. It’s his new favorite acquired skill. I make a mental note to remove the key tomorrow. “It was nothing.”

“Fainting from low blood pressure isn’t nothing. Admit it, Tiana. You wouldn’t have risked calling me to take care of Noah if it weren’t serious.”

She’s right. I had a fright. I didn’t want to drag her into my mess, but I had no one else to turn to and nobody I could trust to look after Noah.