than I ever did. She studies hard, rarely complains about anything, and she…
“I’m sorry, Anna,” Nonny says. “I didn’t mean to get upset like that.”
I sit in front of her and take her hand. “Me too. I should’ve handled it better. Now look, you tell your band director you’re going on that trip. I’ll make it happen, I promise.”
“You don’t have to. I’ll just wait until I get a part time job and save some money. I should’ve thought about it before, you know?”
No
,
you shouldn’t have thought about any of this
.
You’re still just a girl
.
At work, I think about my pay as I wipe down the marble counters. How much is going to go out in taxes and so on. How much is going to end up in my pocket. How much of it should be allocated for rent, groceries and other necessities.
Once everything’s paid, I’ll be lucky to have twenty bucks left over, and that’s with the regular monthly deposit from Mr. Grayson. I could probably ask him for more money, but I’m terrified that he’ll think paying for trips specifically for Nonny gives him some kind of hold over her, too. I started out grateful for his help, but now… I can’t trust him anymore. He never told me what he really wanted. He led me to believe the money was coming from some kind of insurance policy Dad had.
And I believed him when he first approached me at the diner in Vegas. Even though I thought it was odd that an insurance rep would track me down to give me money personally, I was too desperate to be wary. Nonny and I had to leave the shelter with that creep in charge. I’m certain he had designs on her, and I was the only one who stopped him.
The part of me that wanted to be out told me I was crazy to doubt Mr. Grayson. He had my picture, my name, my birthday and social security number. How could he have all that if he wasn’t legit? A clean-cut man in a good suit couldn’t be a bad guy, could he?
How wrong I was.
After my lunch break, I finally reach the twentieth floor…which is where Elliot spotted me yesterday. My breath quickens. It’s ridiculous, of course. He isn’t going to come out and grab me again. He didn’t have one of those laminate employee tags hanging around his neck yesterday, and from what I can gather, he’s not in finance anyway.
I keep thinking over my situation, Nonny’s circumstances…and Elliot’s proposition. I wish I had a friend I could talk to, but of course all of my old friends have turned their backs on me. They wouldn’t spit on me if I were on fire. And I haven’t made any new ones since I left home. It isn’t easy for me to open up to people now, knowing how easily they can turn, and my focus has been on surviving, not socializing and networking.
Four more days pass, and finally it’s Saturday. I’m exhausted from not sleeping well. It’s impossible when I keep having dreams that leave me wet and frustrated. No wonder people used to believe in magic. It’s like Elliot’s cast a spell on me.
Nonny’s at band practice, and I’m cleaning the apartment since it’s either that or go stir-crazy.
Okay
.
I have three choices
.
One. Ask Mr. Grayson for the money I need for Nonny and become even more beholden to him. He thought nothing of telling me to strip and get Elliot’s attention. So who knows what he’ll demand if he thinks I owe him even more?
Two. Accept Elliot’s offer. But how do I know he’s actually going to keep his end of the bargain after a year? Let’s just say that I have a serious trust issue with people who promise to give me a lot of money “later”. It was a hard and painful lesson, but it taught me a lot.
Third. Just say the hell with both men. Leave L.A. Go someplace far, far away from here that’s cheaper to live in.
The last option is so tempting. Nonny and I will be okay. We don’t need a lot, and I can get work somewhere. It’s not like a cleaning position is my dream job.
When I put it that way, the choice seems so simple. At the same
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