Little Memphis (Little Memphis MC #1)

Laughing, I rest my arm around her shoulders. “I like when you tease me. I also hate it. I can’t tell if that makes you complicated or me?”


“Definitely you. I never know what you’ll say or do next. Since I’ve known you a couple weeks, I should totally understand you by now.”

Shay finishes eating and leans back against me. “Should I really be worried about my safety at work? Jeff is there.”

“Jeff is fine, but he’s not me.”

“Who is?” she murmurs, straddling one of her long legs over mine.

“After I drop you off, I’m calling you and you’re picking up and I’ll say something inappropriate and you’ll play cold. Then I’ll hang up and we’ll do it again in an hour.”

Shay rests her head against my chest. “Dinner was really nice and the mash potatoes were the best I’ve had since my grandma died. Thank you.”

The sincerity in her voice makes my chest hurt. This moment right now with Shay is real in a way most things for me aren’t. I hate the feeling, but I’m not ready to give her up. I’ll walk away soon, but not yet.





19


Shay

Wrong Number

My job isn’t suited for people who like action. I’ve had three guests check in during my shifts. Jeff handled the first two while I was allowed to help the third. Otherwise, I spend my evenings sitting by the phone in case a guest needs something. The only time I’m alone is when Jeff takes his breaks, uses the restroom, or goes for a midnight meal.

Normally, he sits in the nearby lounge and watches TV while I play games on my phone. Whenever Jeff is away, I’m on alert. The front doors could open, allowing a scary fucker to walk right into the hotel.

On my first day, I was instructed if I felt threatened to retreat into the office, lock the door, and call 911. The door isn’t strong enough to hold back a determined freak and the cops are obscenely slow to respond to calls. No, if the shit hit the fan, I plan to run out the back door and keep going.

Ford makes me nervous with talk of hourly calls. By the time Jeff leaves for his meal, I’m on edge and ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble. Maybe this is why I react so slowly when the door opens and a dark haired woman enters with a kid on her hip and three more following close behind.

“Is Jeff here?” she asks.

Surveying the area outside for trouble following the woman, I shake my head. “He’s at dinner.”

She sighs then hushes the whining kids. “You’re the new girl, right? Shauna?”

“Shay.”

“Sorry, I’m bad with names. I’m Bebe. I work in the cleaning crew.”

“What do you need with Jeff?” I ask when she stares at me with her big brown eyes.

“Look, I know the hotel isn’t full most weekdays. When I have trouble at home, Jeff lets me stay here with the kids.”

“What kind of trouble?” I ask, studying the quiet night again.

“It’s complicated. I live with these girls and they have customers over and I can’t keep the kids in the house. Get it?”

I look at the baby boy in her arms then at the sleepy kids. I don’t know if Bebe is playing me, but I can’t send kids out into a cold night.

“Yes, I get it. Is there a particular room you stay in?”

“One of the back rooms on the first floor. That way, if the kids cry, they don’t bother anyone.”

Handing her a keycard for a room in an empty hall, I notice Bebe looks flustered. I think she’s embarrassed more than anything.

“Thanks,” she says. “Jeff will tell you I’m cool when he gets back.”

Bebe hauls the toddler and a diaper bag along with corralling the three small ones.

“I’ll help you get the door open,” I say, even though leaving the front desk is a big no-no.

Bebe smiles when I take the diaper bag. She has a sweet smile and I want her to like me. It’s dumb, but I never had girlfriends in Hawthorne.

Once I open the door, the kids run inside. They check everything out while I set the bag and keycard on the dresser. After I bring her a crib, I head for the door.

“I’ll check on you when Jeff gets back.”

Back at the front desk, I’m paranoid someone came in while I was gone. I study the security feeds, finding nothing besides a quiet night and hotel.

When Jeff returns smelling like Taco Bell, I explain about Bebe and he nods.

“Her roommates are hookers. She brings the kids here when they have an orgy at the house,” he says, sitting in the lounge and turning on the TV. “I’ll watch the front, if you want to go do girl bonding.”

I ought to be offended, but I’m mostly bored. Helping Bebe sounds like more fun than hanging around in the front.

Bringing a few sodas, towels, and blankets with me to the room, I knock once before Bebe peeks out, looking freaked. I instantly get freaked too.

“Is everything okay?” I ask, hurrying inside.

“Yeah, I hate being out at night.”

I find the two older kids in one bed and the toddler in the crib. They’re all awake and watching Bob the Builder. The fourth girl is in the second bed, watching us.