“You’re not listening to me, and––”
“Shit.” It would have been damn hypocritical of me to be mad at Merrell Barrett for assuming I was the same person he’d left, especially since I’d driven to the city last night to do what he himself had once paid me for. The difference today was that after being in bed with Cameron Gallagher, I didn’t want to be in bed with anybody else.
“What?”
“Nothing. Sorry for biting your head off.”
I’d surprised him, judging by how oddly he was looking at me.
“But to answer your question, no,” I told him, and it felt good that it wasn’t a lie. “No more hustling for me.”
“Oh,” he replied. I couldn’t tell how he felt about that news.
“Anyway,” I said, beyond ready to wrap this up. “You should call Betty and ask if she can recommend someone for your project. I know she won’t want to leave The Mission, but I’m sure she can give you some names to––”
“I want you involved,” he almost yelled.
“Why?”
His gaze met mine and held.
I scoffed. “Tell me it’s not guilt.”
“What?” His voice got loud and defensive, so I more than had my answer.
“Yeah,” I stated, glaring at him. “Charity I do not need.”
“It’s not like that.”
“It’s exactly like that.” I started my bike. “Call Betty,” I yelled at him over the revving of the engine, and was out of the parking lot seconds later.
Heading for home, wind in my hair, I felt instantly better, calmer, and knew that going forward, however things shook out, Cameron Gallagher had already changed me. I was no longer a prostitute, never again, not ever, and somehow, leaving that behind settled something down deep. Going forward, the only men who got to touch me were the ones I wanted to kiss, and right now, there was only one of them on the whole damn planet.
6
Cameron
I wanted to call Jeremiah, but it was late, and keeping him awake didn’t seem kind. At least one of us should have been sleeping. I called my sister instead, checking in, and she replied that I didn’t need to come home. He truly was fine.
“I’m already in a rental car which I’m going to drop off at the airport as it’s the only place open. So I’m going to need you to pick me up in a couple of hours.”
“Oh. Good,” was all she said. As though I didn’t know her or that she was coming apart at the seams.
We talked for a few more minutes, and then I hung up and drove the rest of the way in silence; I didn’t even want the background noise of the radio. I pulled over at a rest stop to send out emails and shot them off to people, informing them of my family emergency and then doing what I could to prepare my colleagues for the following day. My phone started pinging with their replies, even this late, because we all worked stupid hours. Everyone, as expected, wanted me to take whatever time I needed. I was certain that when my boss got into the office and saw my note, I’d get not only a reassuring reply but also a supportive text and maybe even a phone call. Because yes, we were a big company in the habit of making our clients, and ourselves, piles of money, but family was the most important thing, from our CEO on down.
Stopping to send the emails added about thirty minutes to my travel time, and with dropping off the car and taking a tram to the main terminal, I got there right around the ridiculous hour of four in the morning. Walking into the ground level, I saw my sister, Courtney, standing with her husband, Seth, his arm draped around her shoulders, waiting for me.
She looked like she had put on whatever was clean, and as a result, there was a denim jacket over a tie-dyed sweatshirt, a long scarf looped many times around her neck, yoga pants, heavy crew socks, clogs, oversized sunglasses, and her long dirty-blonde hair was pulled up into a messy bun. She could have passed for a starving college student until she saw me, and waved. The diamond band on the ring finger of her left hand, when it caught the light, could be blinding, and the stacked gold Tiffany bracelets also announced her status.
“You didn’t have to do this,” she called as I got closer, but I could tell from how tight she grabbed me when I reached her that our father, Ray Gallagher, had scared her to death. I clutched her tight so she didn’t fly apart.
When I looked over at Seth, he mouthed the words, “Thank you,” and I understood that my sweet little sister had been losing her mind. “How’s Mom?” I asked her.
Easing back, she bit her bottom lip for a moment. “Okay. She’s still at the hospital, even though Uncle Brian and Aunt Lindsey tried to make her go home. I mean, at this point we’re all just watching him sleep.”