She lowers her voice.
“I know what he is. I don’t have a choice. This is the first time he’s ever seen her. He was just looking, anyway. I…”
She hitches, her shoulders jerking as she chokes down a noise like a sob.
“Hey…”
I reach out for her but she shies back.
“Thank you for taking her to school for me, Quentin.”
“Anytime, Rose. Listen, if that guy gets…creepy, talk to me. I’ll have a talk with him.”
She blinks a few times.
“What are you, twelve? That’s not how the world works, Quentin.”
She ducks inside, brushing at her face.
Good job, Quent. She’s probably going to lose her job now.
Sighing, I slip back into the car.
Karen sits on the front seat, hugging herself.
“You’re taking me to school?”
“Yeah. I don’t actually know where it is, so I’ll need directions.”
“Um,” she says. “Okay.”
I drive.
It takes us twenty minutes to make a five-minute trip.
Here’s a tip: never take driving directions from someone who can’t drive a car and gives you instructions like, “I think you turn here,” and, “It’s up that road by the other road.”
“Um,” she says as I park out front of the school. “Somebody has to sign me in. Like an adult.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, or…”
“I think your mom will want you to get detention, kid.”
Karen whimpers, and my resolve softens for a moment.
She reaches for the door.
“Um,” she says. “Do you like my mom?”
“What?”
“Do you like her?”
“Uh, I guess? I like her just fine.”
Karen lights up like a Christmas tree and practically runs into the school.
The fuck did I just do?
4
Rose
Oh God, please don’t fire me. Please don’t fire me. Please don’t fire me.
When Burt walks into the reception area, I tense like a scared rabbit watching a cat slink toward her little baby bunnies. I can’t read the look on his face. He always wears that same crude smile, that same appraising look. I feel even more naked than usual as his gaze rakes over me, before he takes a long look at Laura, the other receptionist, and gives her a broad smile. Then he turns to me.
“What was that about?”
I lower the telephone into the cradle. I was hoping if it looked like I was on a call with a patient he’d leave me alone.
“My new neighbor caught my daughter playing hooky, I guess.”
“New neighbor? Was that the jackass with the Chevy?”
I can feel my cheeks heat.
“He’s not—”
I stop myself, blinking. Why am I springing to Quentin’s defense? He is a jackass.
“Does he bother you?”
Well…
I have to think about that for a second. He really did me a favor bringing Karen to see me and taking her to school. In retrospect, I can barely believe I trusted him to do that, but I was in a bind. What was I going to do, have her ride the bus from the dentist’s office and trust she’d make it there? I should have given Quentin my phone number to make sure that she made it. God, what was I thinking?
I look at Burt. He shifts a little closer, leaning his skinny ass on the counter, giving me that look. He’s looking for an in, or something. I’m not giving him one.
“It’s fine. He’s a little rough around the edges but he did me a favor picking her up.”
“He shouldn’t have brought her here. I don’t need one of my employees making a family scene in front of the patients.”
“Sorry about that. It won’t happen again. I’ll talk to Karen.”
“Maybe she needs more of a man’s influence in her life,” Burt says smoothly.
His hand slides along the counter toward mine. Thankfully another patient walks up to the window. Burt shrugs and walks off, eyeing me. I can see his reflection in the window as I push it open to greet the patient and sign them in.
God, I hate that man.
Thankfully I make it through the rest of my shift without Burt coming to chat me up again. The next time I see him, it’s as we’re getting ready to close up shop. Laura flounces to her feet and grabs his arm with a coquettish smile and I decide it’d be a good idea to slink away before he can spot me.
I need to get home. I have a class tonight.
Grabbing my things, I quickly head outside. Burt and Laura follow, Laura giggling her empty little head off as Burt hits the remote for his new Benz and it beep-meeps and the engine starts up. He would have a remote start.
“Sure you don’t want a ride?” Burt calls at me, giving me that full-body once-over he always does when he thinks he’s being sexy.
“I’m fine, I don’t need—”
The thing about Quentin’s car is that it announces itself. When he comes down the block I can feel the exhaust note in my shoes. It rumbles into the parking lot with Quentin at the wheel, leaning through the window. He pulls up behind Burt, boxing him in, and looks at me.
“Hey. Karen said you could use a ride.”