"Certainly," Eda says briskly. "There's another call coming in."
With that, she hangs up. I tuck my phone back into the front pocket of my red pants. Nothing screams stealth Matiz security guard like red pants and a white and red striped shirt. It's bold, but it was the first pieces of clothing my fingers touched in my closet, so I tugged the outfit on, pulled my hair into a tight bun and came to work.
"Excuse me."
That voice is too sweet for it to belong to anyone who works here. It's melodic, like an angel. A sweet little angel who isn't old enough to understand that boys, and eventually men, have the ability to make you feel like a rare jewel and the gum on the bottom of their shoe, all in the space of an hour.
I turn and look down. She's as precious as her voice. Perfect almond shaped green eyes and hair as red as mine. She's dressed in a pink T-shirt and matching skirt. Her lilac painted toenails on display in her little leather sandals.
"Can I help you, Miss?"
Her face brightens with a broad smile. "You called me Miss."
"Little girls are Miss." I crouch so I'm looking directly at her face.
"What are little boys?" She brings her hands together in front of her.
"Trouble. Little boys are nothing but trouble." A deep voice interjects from the left.
I turn toward it. It's Nolan Black with the slightest hint of a smile on his face and an attractive brunette at his side.
Chapter 25
Nolan
"Don't lead her astray, Nolan. Boys aren't trouble. It's just certain men that are."
Gretel Gallant is only saying that because I've turned her down, twice. The most recent time was six months ago when I went to her apartment to meet with her husband. She answered the door wearing only a diamond necklace after she sent her husband to pick up their daughter from after school care. She's as hot for my dick now as she was back then. She made that obvious when she approached me the second I walked into the store.
"Cat got your tongue, Nolan, or are you silent because you know I'm right?"
Jesus. You'd think she'd keep the snarky attitude at bay in front of her child.
"What brings you and Leila into the store today?" I tap her daughter on the head. "You're too beautiful to wear makeup, Leila."
"So is my Mommy."
Ah, the innocent eye of a child.
"Is there something I can help you find?" Ellie directs her attention to Gretel.
"I'm a regular," Gretel says it like it matters. It grants her no special privileges. She's in the store at least a few times a week, often asking the staff if she can see me. She can't. I keep a fair distance between my cock and Gretel at all times. "We were just leaving."
Ellie eyes Leila. "Is there anything I can help you with, Leila?"
She shrugs, her hands disappearing into the pockets of the skirt she's wearing. "I just wanted to tell you that I like your hair."
Ellie smiles softly, her fingers leaping to her bun. "Thank you. Your hair is really pretty."
"Mommy says I can change it if I want when I'm older."
Of course, Gretel would say that to a six-year-old. She's had more work done than most of the women in Manhattan combined.
"I think you're perfect exactly the way you are," Ellie says the words that are dangling from the tip of my tongue. "There's one thing I think we need to talk about, though."
"What?" Gretel barks, her hands leaping to Leila's shoulders. "Don't tell her that you like her nose."
"I like it better than your nose, Gretel." I turn toward her, raising a brow. "I like the last nose you had better than this one too. The one before that not so much."
She shoots me a look that says shut the fuck up, or it might be fuck me. Either way, it's not happening.
"Did your Mommy pay for anything for you today, Leila?"
Ellie's voice is soothing and calm. Gretel stands in silence as Leila shakes her head from side-to-side. "Not for me. She bought all those things in the bag for herself."
"Did you bring any of your own money with you today?"
Leila giggles, her hand darting to cover her mouth. "I don't have money. I have to earn it, and I don't like chores."
Like mother, like daughter.
"I can see that you have something in your pocket." Ellie points to the left pocket of Leila's skirt. "It looks like a tube of mascara. Is that what it is?"
Leila looks back at Gretel before her eyes settle on Ellie. "Yes. It's mascara. I want it."
"If you want to take something home from the store, you need to pay for it." Ellie's gaze slides over Gretel's face before she looks at Leila again. "Sometimes it's hard to resist taking whatever we want, but we have to earn money to pay for those things."
"Mommy says she earns every dime she spends listening to Daddy talk."
Ellie sighs, her hand darting out in front of her. "Can I have the mascara back?"
"I guess," Leila whispers as she tugs it out of her pocket. "Daddy says I can't wear makeup until I'm twenty."