An Improper Deal(21)

She grabs her textbook. “I need to get some sleep. Gotta be up early for morning rehearsal.” She starts toward our bedroom. “By the way, don’t worry about the trip. I told the band director I can’t go.”

This hits me so hard I gasp. “Why?”

“You know…” She shrugs and kind of looks around at our cheap place.

“Tell her you made a mistake. You can go. I’ll make it happen.”

She shakes her head. “Forget it, Anna. It’s just a stupid hobby.” She goes into the room and shuts the door.

I stare at the closed door. My appetite’s gone. This is all my fault. I should’ve hidden my struggles from her better and warned Caroline to keep her big mouth shut.

But maybe none of that would’ve mattered. Nonny’s a perceptive girl, and it’s impossible to hide how little money we have.

I pull out Elliot’s card. It has his full name, plus a phone number, neatly written in black ink. Does he think this is how he’s going to get me? A kiss, a finger down there, a promise of some money and a card?

Shaking my head, I stick it back into my bag and change into my old PJs. They’re nice—Mom bought them before everything tumbled down around us. Nonny doesn’t have anything similar since she grew out of them all.

An hour later I crawl into bed next to Nonny and stare at the ceiling. Maybe Elliot is the answer to all my problems. It’s just sex, right? And only for a year. At least he’s open about what he wants and what he’s willing to give in return.

Of course there’s the possibility he’s some kind of psycho. What’s up with his insistence on calling me Gigi? Some kind of fetish? Or does he want me to act like an unrequited love of his? Some old girlfriend?

Probably not. I narrow my eyes. He’s too handsome and rich not to have everything he wants.

I wish I could talk to someone, but there’s nobody for me. I sigh. I don’t even have Traci’s number anymore. I deleted it from my phone after Nonny and I practically fled Lincoln City.

Closing my eyes, I will myself to sleep. Tomorrow’s another long day and I need some rest.

But when the sleep finally comes, I dream of Elliot…and his wicked finger.





Chapter Eleven



Annabelle

Morning is a little awkward. Caroline, as usual, got home late, so she’s still asleep in her room. Nonny and I don’t really say anything to each other. I’m still stewing in my guilt and frustration over how little I can give her, and Nonny…well… I don’t know what she’s thinking as she splashes milk over her bowl of cereal.

I don’t bother with breakfast. A part of me is still too upset to eat, and another part wants to stretch what we have as long as we can. Payday isn’t for another two weeks.

Nonny’s clothes are old and frayed. And most of them are a size too small. It seems so unfair that I grew up with designer outfits and shoes while Nonny doesn’t get any of that. And she deserves them more than I ever did. She studies hard, rarely complains about anything, and she…

“I’m sorry, Anna,” Nonny says. “I didn’t mean to get upset like that.”

I sit in front of her and take her hand. “Me too. I should’ve handled it better. Now look, you tell your band director you’re going on that trip. I’ll make it happen, I promise.”

“You don’t have to. I’ll just wait until I get a part time job and save some money. I should’ve thought about it before, you know?”

No, you shouldn’t have thought about any of this. You’re still just a girl.

At work, I think about my pay as I wipe down the marble counters. How much is going to go out in taxes and so on. How much is going to end up in my pocket. How much of it should be allocated for rent, groceries and other necessities.

Once everything’s paid, I’ll be lucky to have twenty bucks left over, and that’s with the regular monthly deposit from Mr. Grayson. I could probably ask him for more money, but I’m terrified that he’ll think paying for trips specifically for Nonny gives him some kind of hold over her, too. I started out grateful for his help, but now… I can’t trust him anymore. He never told me what he really wanted. He led me to believe the money was coming from some kind of insurance policy Dad had.

And I believed him when he first approached me at the diner in Vegas. Even though I thought it was odd that an insurance rep would track me down to give me money personally, I was too desperate to be wary. Nonny and I had to leave the shelter with that creep in charge. I’m certain he had designs on her, and I was the only one who stopped him.

The part of me that wanted to be out told me I was crazy to doubt Mr. Grayson. He had my picture, my name, my birthday and social security number. How could he have all that if he wasn’t legit? A clean-cut man in a good suit couldn’t be a bad guy, could he?