Worth Billions (Worth It 1)

I sat on the edge of the bed in Anton’s home and drew out a plan. I looked up prices and ran numbers, making sure I budgeted every single dollar down to the penny. My things were packed in the corner as I hunched over the pad, outlining multiple plans and how much they would cost me before I’d run out and have to go home anyway.

But a small part of me still ached.

I took a long slow look around the room. How I wished I could stay in this home. These walls had provided me with more comfort, grace and reassurance than any other place in my life. Mr. Anton always made me feel comfortable, important and wanted. I’d had fun in this house. I took pride in taking care of it while he was still alive. And I wished, more than anything, that I had more time with him. More time to enjoy him, learn from him and learn about him.

I was jealous of all the people who had known him better and longer than I had.

Looking back down at the numbers, I sighed. With this kind of money, I didn’t really need to stay in Stillsville. I didn’t have friends here. There was Cecily, my old neighbor. She had a tongue as fiery as the devil’s anus, but I respected her brashness and her honesty. People that told it like it was without holding back a

lways had my respect because it meant I always knew where I stood with them. There was no mystery, and I enjoyed that with most people. And Andy didn’t even fucking count, the little asshole. That man had only paid attention to me when it was convenient for his dick, even after I’d moved states away from the only place I had considered home.

But even with Cecily, who I rarely saw except for when we drank coffee together while watching television, I had no one in Stillsville. Hell, I had no one in Illinois. There wasn’t a point to my staying here, so I took my phone back out and started searching the surrounding areas for jobs. Maybe there was a concentration of them somewhere and I could price hotels in that area. Maybe I could plant my temporary roots elsewhere and see what I could find.

Because Gray was right.

Stillsville was sucking the soul out of me.

Cecily wasn’t that bad, and part of me would miss her. I didn’t know her well, but she was a good-enough friend when I needed it. She comforted me with booze in my coffee after fights with Andy, and indulged my secret passion for reality television. That stuff made me feel better about my own life. I could get my dose of drama without having to upend my entire life in the process. Cecily worked the evening shift at the local diner in town, so we greeted one another in the mornings. The two of us would drink coffee on her stoop before she went inside to sleep. Then I’d head off to work for Anton.

It was more of a friendship based on convenience, but it was better than nothing. It had gotten me through some rough spats with Andy before things swirled down the drain.

But that didn’t mean I’d stick around because of it.

Gray, on the other hand, was different. There was something in the way he interacted with me that made me warm all over. I would stay behind for someone like him, even though I wasn’t sure if that was good. Or healthy. I felt comfortable with him. Ready to laugh at a moment’s notice. I didn’t panic when he came into a room. I didn’t feel the need to act like someone I wasn’t. And when we talked, he at least seemed interested in what I had to say.

I knew he desired me. Possibly as much as I desired him.

Even though things had sobered up very quickly the day before.

My mind ran off with my thoughts before my eyes fell back to my pad of paper. None of it mattered. Andy didn’t matter. Cecily didn’t matter. Grayson didn’t matter. Andy was a pile of shit, Cecily didn’t give a shit, and Grayson was leaving all this crap behind. Anton wasn’t alive to deal with any of it, so why was I considered staying behind and putting up with it? That made no sense. Everyone had left me in this damn town. Everyone had left me behind. Andy threw me out. Cecily probably didn’t give a damn where I was anyway. Anton was dead.

And Grayson would soon be lumped in with them as well—when he left and never looked back.

That meant I would only have myself to rely on again. Like it always had been. Just like growing up without a father, and living with a drug-addicted mother who sold my clothes and toys off for money to score for the weekend. Just like that, I’d be fending for myself again. No friends. No job. And no place to live.

I hated my life sometimes.

Memories of my childhood rushed to the front of my mind. Tears welled in my eyes and I brushed them away, desperate to gain some sort of a foothold again. I couldn’t let this city tear me down. I couldn’t let it suck the hope from my veins. Grayson had left to deal with those properties, then he would come back and pay me before leaving. Then that would be it and our brief but intense time together would be gone. Grayson would be gone, Anton would still be dead, and I would be alone once again.

Getting up from the edge of the bed, I walked out into the kitchen. I placed the tally of my hours and the total he owed me on the counter. I still didn’t feel right about it. That was way too much for the few days of work I did. But it would go a long way in helping me get my life back on solid footing.

Which was something I needed before my mind spiraled into an endless frenzy.

I shuffled back to my room and sighed. Now, all I had to do was sit and wait. I ran my hand through my hair and blinked my eyes rapidly, trying to keep my mind from running away from me anymore than it already had.

Then, I heard the front door bang open.

“Michelle!?”

I furrowed my brow at the sound of Grayson’s voice.

“Michelle, are you still here?”

There was an urgency in his voice. A spot of fear I hadn’t before heard in his words. I dashed out of my room and went to find him as he continued to call out my name. I raced down the hallway, wiping tears from my eyes and trying to clear the sadness from my voice.

“Michelle!”

“What is it?” I asked.