When I'm Gone(8)

He also had a cappuccino machine in his apartment. I was beginning to love that machine.

“Good morning, gorgeous. Here’s your wake-up juice,” he said, handing me the cup. I started to reach for it with my bad hand and stopped. I used my good hand, but Jimmy’s eyes were already locked on my bandaged one. “Girl, what the hell happened to you?”

I sighed, hating to remember the mess I’d made yesterday. “I fell while cleaning a window, broke a mirror on the way down, and sliced open my hand.” I didn’t want to give him details. I held up the bandaged hand. “Five stitches. The owner’s brother gave me a ride to the hospital.”

Jimmy winced. “Ouch. You sure you can clean a house today? That’s got to hurt.”

“I’m fine. I’ll be a little slower, but you can bet I won’t be standing on chairs anymore to clean windows,” I joked.

He didn’t grin, just shook his head. “You are one piece of work, Reese Ellis. Come on, let’s get your hot ass to the Car ters’. I also have a number for you to call. Blaire Finlay is a close friend of mine, and she’s interested in hiring a new housecleaner. The one she has now is retiring, and she wants someone young. She’s got a little tike. It was getting hard for their cleaner to handle his messes. Kid’s cute as a button, though.” I took the number he handed me. “Call her. She’s a doll. You’ll love her.”

Another job I was getting without using the agency. This was good. I got to keep all the income from clients I found on my own. “Thanks, Jimmy,” I said, tucking the number into my pocket. “I’ll call her once my hand is better. I don’t want to show up at her house with a bandaged hand.”

Jimmy grinned, and his angel face showed even brighter. “She’s actually Harlow Carter’s sister-in-law, for all intents and purposes.”

That didn’t really make sense. What did he mean, for all intents and purpose? I figured it didn’t matter. Besides, I really liked Mrs. Carter. She was there often when I cleaned, because she had a baby, so I had spoken to her several times. She always tried to get me to stop and have lunch with her. I was sure I’d be happy working for her sister-in-law, too.

“I have to work a fund-raiser benefit tonight at the club. I won’t be done until one in the morning. Wish you’d take a cab home. Especially with that bum hand of yours. After cleaning at the Carters’, you’re going to be tired. And probably hurting.”

We had this discussion every day when he had to work late. He always wanted me to take a cab home, but we lived only eight miles from the club, right outside Rosemary Beach and back a few roads inland. I had walked to school, the library, and the grocery store my entire life. I was used to walking to get to places. If I wanted to go somewhere, I had to walk.

I could probably afford a car now, but I couldn’t pass the written test. I had asked my mother to help me once, and it had been a terrible mistake. She’d made sure I understood that lazy, stupid people shouldn’t drive cars. It was dangerous to everyone else. I had tried twice now to read the study guide for the written test, but it was no use. The words never made sense to me.

Which was how I knew that my mother and my step father and all the kids at school had been right: I was stupid. I had to be. My brain didn’t work the way everyone else’s did. I was twenty-two, and I still went to the library and got picture books and tried to read them.

“I bet Harlow would give you a ride after work, if you’d just ask her. Hell, I’ll ask her. People don’t get any sweeter than Harlow Carter.”

I was not asking her to drive me home. “It’s OK. I’ll think about calling a cab. I promise,” I told him, knowing that I would think about it but wouldn’t do it.





Mase


I hadn’t gone to Harlow’s last night. I’d gone back to the house and cleaned up the glass, then called and explained that I was exhausted. I still had sleep to catch up on. The few hours I’d gotten that morning weren’t enough.

When I’d woken up to silence this morning, I’d felt an odd sense of loss. Which was odd, considering that Reese couldn’t sing for shit. I didn’t plan on seeing the girl again. Even if I didn’t leave on Sunday, I wouldn’t be here when she got here. I had an urge to fix all her problems. Which was stupid. She was doing fine without me. But something about those big eyes . . . and hell, who was I kidding? There wasn’t a part of her body that didn’t scream for attention. And I wanted to give her that attention.

A woman like that should have a man. Made no sense why she didn’t.