“I guess he didn’t want me in the middle of whatever he was getting himself into. And I admit, I didn’t exactly want to be in the middle of it either. But maybe I should have stayed, or talked to him, or pushed him to─”
I cut her off there. “Take it from someone who’s really great at second-guessing himself when it comes to family, it doesn’t help.”
She nods in agreement. She gets it. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting still.
“Anyway, once I was packed and ready to go, he handed me a piece of paper. He said he knew a guy who could help me out with finding a place to stay and getting settled up here.”
“That must have gone well.”
Green purses her lips before continuing.
“He got me an interview with The Chronicle.” Now I see why she’d think her boss had something to do with this guy. “And he wired me some money to help me get my feet on the ground.”
“I see. Did he send random guys to your room nightly too?”
Green’s left eyebrow shoots up, and I know. “Not called for, sorry.” But you’ve gotta admit, it would make sense—the boy-toy kissing her the way he did. Like he owns her.
“I met Connor at a diner I stopped at to eat while I was looking for apartments. We hit it off.” Funny she knows what I’m thinking, right?
Epic eye roll.
“If it weren’t for him, I probably wouldn’t have landed the job at The Chronicle. He’s their accountant. He put in a good word for me.” She’s trying to sell this guy to me? Really?
“So you moved in with him?” Seems cheesy to me, even for Green.
“That wasn’t the plan, but, we started dating, and I was staying at a hotel. I thought I’d found a place after a few weeks, but at the last minute, the building manager gave it to someone else, so…”
“You don’t seem the type to depend on a sugar daddy, Green.”
“I was looking for months, Stiles. And honestly, somehow, it made sense at the time,” she tells me. Even she doesn’t get how it all happened, if I’m basing her thoughts on the expression of thoughtfulness that just flashed across her face. “Until…”
She doesn’t wanna tell me, whatever it is. “Until what, Green?” So I encourage her to keep talking even though I know I’m gonna hate what’s fucking coming next.
“Until it didn’t.” A rogue hand flails out in front of her. “I wanted to be a writer so I could tell real stories. I never planned on being the city’s go-to girl for crappy gossip about bogus crimes.” She genuinely seems disgusted with her choices. Something I can identify with.
Sometimes, I guess we see what we want to see instead of the plain fucking truth.
“And now?”
She bites her lip.
“Green?”
“And now everything’s a mess. I broke things off with Connor about a month ago.”
Funny way of showing it, if you ask me.
“But?”
There’s always a but, ladies and gentlemen.
“It was getting to the point where we were inseparable. He was putting a lot of pressure on me to take the next step. He’s a great guy. I don’t know why I wanted out so bad. But it’s difficult to find a place in Redemption that I can afford. Then there was all this pressure at work, and my position was getting scrutinized.”
“Green.”
“Right. Anyway, we haven’t slept together since I broke it off, but I know he wants me back. I think he might be manipulating some of the apartment building board members around town into purposefully not giving me an apartment.”
Possible.
He is an accountant. Manipulator of money.
Dick.
One thing at a time, Stiles.
“Okay. First things first. We need to find you a place.”
“But I just told you─”
“Not a problem. I know a guy.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know I don’t. But I’m getting you the fuck out of that apartment whether dipshit likes it or not.”
I might just clock him upside his smug fucking face, when I go to give him the good news, for good measure.
Green fidgets and I can see her chewing on the inside of her mouth.
“What?”
“What what?” She genuinely thinks I don’t see it. Does she not know me better than that by now?
“Spill it, Green.”
She takes a breath in and lets it out, steadying herself for this next part of the conversation.
“Anonymous, whoever it is, was supposed to be friends with my dad, Stiles. When he wired me that money, I assumed it was a gift but-”
“Jesus.”
“He’s been threatening me lately. Saying it would be a shame if something happened to my dad if I didn’t…” She doesn’t need to finish the sentence. I fucking get it. As big a dill-hole as my father is, if someone threatened his life, I’d play along. At least, until I could track a motherfucker down and splice his ass open with the six-inch hunting knife I keep for emergencies.
Know what I mean?
“I’ve been paying him back in increments,” she insists. But we both know, at this point, the payback isn’t the goal.