Hush, Hush (Hush, Hush 1)

And I would.

Come Hell or high water, I refuse to be another statistic that New York got the best of.

And yet, that’s what I felt like I was quickly becoming. A working girl with no set business hours on the corner just trying to make a quick buck to get by.

Twenty

I frown at my phone while trying to get to class on time, wondering why Grammy wasn’t picking up. She usually gets up before the sun rises to feed her cats, so it's highly unusual that she’s not answering her phone. A shoulder bumps into me but I keep going, mumbling an apology. I can't be late, but her not answering doesn't sit well in my stomach.

I decide to try her again after class.

Social Science Statistics. I chuckle to myself. I feel like most of my classes were a forewarning to my new job and I just didn't know it until now.

After the two-hour lecture, Grammy still isn’t answering, which only worries me more. This isn't like her. She always answers or calls me right back. With each step I take down the street, there's an underlying, rapidly growing fear in my chest. A sickening feeling starts to bloom as I make my way to my last class.

Despite the anxious feeling in my stomach, I stop to buy a pretzel from one of the nearby street carts to appease my rumbling stomach. I contemplate skipping class to hop on the subway so I can check on her when my phone lights up with her name. Relief courses through me and I answer the phone midchew.

"Grammy, where have you been?"

"Oh, sweetie, I slept in. I can't believe what time it is. I woke up to the cats crying and one of them was licking my face."

I grimace. I hope I never wake up to someone, or something, licking my face.

"You never sleep in," I say.

"I guess my body needed the rest. Are you okay? I saw a lot of missed calls on my caller ID. Now you have me concerned. Are you okay? Is something wrong?"

I take another bite. "I'm fine, everything's okay. I just wanted to make plans to take you out for Thanksgiving, but then you weren't answering and I got worried."

"Aubrey." She almost seems exasperated and that makes me smile. "You don't have to mother me."

"I know. Anyway, I want you to pick any restaurant."

"That's a month away and it's not necessary. I will cook."

I knew she'd say that. She loves to be in her kitchen.

"Nope. I'm taking you out, so pick a place by the end of the week, that way I can make reservations. Now that I've heard your lovely voice, I can breathe again and head to my last class. Love you."

"Love you too, sweetheart."

Hanging up, I chuck the pretzel wrapper into the trash and slip my phone into my purse, never my back pocket, and walk a couple of blocks to one of the many tall concrete buildings that make up the best city in the world. Stepping inside the lecture hall, I take a seat.

As the class quiets down, I hear my cell phone vibrating. Blinking, I sit up and reach into my bag, thinking it's Grammy calling me back, only to realize it's my Valentina phone.

My heart freezes. This weird blend of anxiousness and dread swirls around in my stomach. I'm excited but I'm not. I shoot a glance around the room to see if anyone is watching, but no one is.

Placing my phone in my lap, I slide my thumb across the screen to unlock and read the message. It’s short and to the point.

Another job. Seven thousand this time. And it’s at Sanctuary Cove.

What the fuck does the client want for that amount of money?

Apprehension comes with the territory, but it's churning in my stomach and hardening the food I just ate to stone. Fuck, I'm nervous. Natalie was right. It's only two days away, and if I had known a week beforehand like she did, I probably would've canceled.

Seven. Thousand. Dollars.

I have to admit, the money is starting to change my tune.