Something with a good beat, too.
She’s at the stove, stirring something that smells like onions and garlic.
My stomach growls.
Just call me Pavlov’s dog.
One of the things I learned about in Mia’s psych class.
And when I start salivating, it’s not because of the aroma, more the sight of her ass swinging back and forth.
I can’t take my eyes off it.
What I wouldn’t give…
She squeals, both feet leaving the floor when she jumps at the sight of me.
She rips out her earbuds, and now I can hear the faint strains of classic rock.
“What the fuck?
Jesus.
Are you trying to scare me to death?”
I almost have to shake my head to clear the cobwebs.
It’s like I forget how to think when I’m around her.
“I live here too, remember?”
“Yeah, thanks for the reminder.
Maybe you could, I don’t know, announce your presence?”
“Maybe you could, I don’t know, not listen to music so loud you don’t hear me coming in?
I could’ve been anybody.”
“Believe me.
If the alarm had gone off, I would’ve heard it.”
That, I can’t argue with.
The siren is almost loud enough to make my ears bleed, but that’s how the boss wants it.
No chance of her sneaking out unnoticed since half the building would probably hear the alarm going off.
Especially since she doesn’t know the code to disarm it.
I take a bottle of water from the fridge, looking over at the stove.
“What’s that?”
“It’s going to be chicken and rice, eventually.”
Yes, there are seasoned chicken breasts on a cutting board and a measuring cup full of rice next to them.
“What’s the occasion?”
“Could you not make it sound like a big deal that I’m cooking?
Somebody has to make sure we both don’t die of massive heart attacks after all the shit food we’ve been eating.”
I can’t even argue with that.
After that first night, I told myself I would never cook for her again if she was going to be an ungrateful brat.
That leaves the option of her doing the cooking or ordering our meals.
It’s not like we can’t afford it, but the options aren’t always healthy.
This might be an elite college, but kids are kids.
There’s only going to be so many options for salad.
She looks me up and down.
“So maybe wash off your stink.
Dinner should be ready in about half an hour.”
She pops her earbuds back in, officially signaling I’ve been dismissed.
For somebody who didn’t grow up with hired help, she’s damn good at being dismissive.
Let her think she’s won.
I don’t know who she thinks she’s dealing with, but she is way off-base if she figures I’ll cave because she cooked chicken and rice.
I take a quick shower and get dressed even quicker.
Am I ever going to be able to relax?
Before I’m finished and out of my room, my phone rings.
It’s the boss.
“Shit,” I mutter, closing the bedroom door partway.
I can still look out into the hall in case she’s planning something.
Right now, she’s in her room, and I can smell the food in the oven.
So far, so good.
I answer the call on the third ring.
“Hello, sir.”
“How’s it going over there?
I thought I’d check in for a status update at the end of the week.”
“Everything’s status quo at the moment.”
“My girl behaving herself?”
I hear voices in the background, vaguely recognizable.
He must be in the middle of something.
I can see him sitting behind his desk, with his minions doing his bidding.
Of course, I know better than to ask since he would never tell me.
He only thinks I didn’t pay attention to everything he’s tried so hard to hide.
“She’s doing great.
In fact, she’s making dinner tonight.”
“Is she?
I can’t tell you how happy that makes me.”
He sounds like it, too.
He sounds practically overjoyed.
“Yes, she’s doing fine.
Settling in, all that.”
“You keep on her about things like that while you’re there.
That would be a big help.”
“Things like what?”
He makes a vague sort of noise.
“You know, domestic stuff.
Cooking, housework.”
“But you have the housekeeper coming in twice a week already.
There’s not much for her to do when it comes to that.”
Damn, now the image of Mia on her knees with a scrub brush is burned in my brain.
If the boss wants it, I’d have no choice but to make her do my bidding.
Poor me.
“I know, but she should be the one to oversee them.
Nobody would expect her to do her own house cleaning when it comes time for her to get married, but she will have to know how to run a big household.
As for cooking, I’m sure she’ll be expected to do that, so it would be for the best that she stay sharp.”
He barks out a laugh like something just occurred to him.
“Do they have cooking classes at that school?
I should have looked it up.
Look into that for me, would you?”
This is too bizarre.
“She’s pretty busy with her current roster.
She’s doing great, too, with A’s on her first two exams.”
“Sure, sure.”
He couldn’t sound more bored if he tried.
“But that’s not what’s going to make her husband happy one day, is it?
Sitting down at the dinner table in front of a plate of burnt food.
I doubt he’ll think to himself, well, at least my wife got straight A’s in college.”
It’s not until I look down that I realize my free hand is clenched in a fist.
“I’ll do what I can.”
“Excellent.
I knew I could count on you.
Everything looks fine as far as her bank statements go, so I see you haven’t been letting me down in that aspect, either.
I knew I could trust you with this.
You have no idea how much it means to know she’s safe.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Someone speaks up in the background, and he mutters in response.
“I’ll have to let you go now, Zeke.
I’ll check in soon.”
He doesn’t wait for me to respond before ending the call.
I would ask myself what that was all about, but I already know.
Sending her to school is just a temporary solution to his problem-I realize that now.
He had to do something with her.
He couldn’t let her sit around the house all day, bored and ready to get into trouble.
And he definitely can’t have her around him while he conducts business or using one of his playthings.
Aside from her safety, his top priority is making sure she has no idea where his money comes from, what he does to earn it.
She has to be completely unaware.
So he sent her away.
Not to just any school, but one whose students are from the same economic bracket she now lives in.
He might as well have put her in a safe deposit box for the time being until he can sell her off in marriage.
That’s the endgame.
He’s going to use her to strengthen his own position, the way he’s used her to make himself seem more sympathetic and relatable.
Sure, he’s ordered the murders of countless men and sold I don’t know how many girls no older than his daughter, but now that he’s got a kid, he’s the big family man.
It never disgusted me the way it does now, though.
I’ve always known how he operates, and I’m the one who’s pulled the trigger more times than I can count.
I know he uses her, and I always have.
But I also know she wants more than that from life.
We don’t have to sit down and talk about it for me to know.
She’s taking this school thing seriously, and it would crush her for him to pull her out of school to marry her off to a stranger.
A stranger who would touch her and claim her body for himself.
How the hell am I supposed to let that happen?
* * *
Yeah,
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.