“I’m good where I am.”
“With Monty the girlfriend?”
I give him the finger, a less than chief–like goodbye, but he deserves it. When I get back to the truck, Monty is in the driver’s seat. She wiggles excitedly and puts the window down as I approach.
“Can I drive?”
“No.”
She frowns. “Why not?”
“Because this truck is expensive.”
She snorts. “When?”
I yank open the car door and usher her over to the passenger seat. Once she’s settled, I climb in after her.
“Do you even have a license?” I ask.
“Yes.”
I start the engine. “A real one?”
“Oh. Then, no.”
As we pull out of the parking lot, I say, “You didn’t have to hit the woman.”
“If a man were harassing me, what would you do?”
Probably hit him. But discretely.
“I’d at least threaten him first,” I mumble, and she grins. “Just … next time, maybe use a little discretion.”
She wiggles in her seat. “I like that there will be a next time.”
For fuck’s sake.
We ride home the rest of the way in silence, sans the food we picked up because the manager of the store called the police before I could pay for any of it, but Monty doesn’t seem bothered. She saunters into the house happily.
“So, where am I sleeping?”
I take off my coat. “I really think you staying here isn’t a good idea.”
Her look could cut through stone. “We had a deal.”
Yes, we did, and I’m a man of my word, but this is different. I’m agreeing to house a serial killer, which is one thing, but she’s also my daughter’s friend and my daughter’s age. It feels inappropriate.
Monty scowls up at me, clearly anticipating another argument, which is what she should get. People talk, and if they see a beautiful, young woman coming and going, I’ll be the subject of gossip over eggnog and wrapping paper. I’d rather my name not be on anyone’s lips.
But the alternative is Christmas alone. My first Christmas alone in a long fucking time.
“Fine. But you’re gone before New Year.”
She puts her arms in the air. “Yay! This is going to be so fun.”
“Fun” is not the word I’d use.
Monty follows me upstairs, and we pass Ella’s room and mine. The guest room used to be a gym, but I moved all my equipment into the garage this summer and redecorated. No one visits, but it gave me something to do, and now I’m glad I did.
