Read Online Project Seduction by Tatiana March - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Tatiana March
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grown-ups fell for the cutie-pie act. Cups made of bones with piglets on them—right, like she was some dumb five-year old.
It was time to get back to work on her plan, now that she no longer needed to fear that her dad would go nuclear. “She likes you,” Andy said.
"Who?"
"Georgina. She likes you."
"Likes me?” Rick's brows knitted together. “You've got to be kidding."
"Nope. Her face went all pink when I talked about you."
"It was hot in her apartment."
"And you like her too."
His frown deepened. “What makes you think that, pumpkin?"
"I saw you ogling at her legs."
"I did not."
"You always do that. You always ogle at girls in mini-skirts at the mall."
"Don't push your luck, honey. You're in enough trouble already."
"Sorry, Dad. I didn't mean it.” Andy clasped her hands behind her back and crossed her fingers to protect herself against the lie she was about to tell. “I told Georgina you're teaching me to shoot a handgun.” She gave him a crafty look. “You could teach her too."
"Did Georgina suggest that?"
Andy took a deep breath before she answered. It was cool that her dad was a cop, but the problem with cops was that they were trained to tell when someone was lying.
"I promised her that you could. She said I should ask you."
Rick shook his head slowly. “I'm not sure it's a good idea. I might end up shooting her."
"Come on, Dad. Do it. It'll make up for calling her a lesbian."
He reached out and patted her arm. “All right. I guess I could do it. If Georgina wants to, and if it makes you happy."
"Thanks Dad.” Andy leapt out of the chair and collided into his wide chest, secure in the knowledge that his strong arms would wrap around her and keep her from falling.
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Chapter Five
The following morning, Andy tidied up in the kitchen while her dad was still asleep. Then she put on a load of laundry. While the tumble-dryer churned around, she tiptoed up to his bed. “Dad, are you awake?"
The unintelligible grunt made her smile. He slept on his stomach, one arm tucked under his head, one leg thrown out and bent at the knee. Recovery position. Andy's smile faded as she recalled the countless times she'd arranged her unconscious mother's body in the same way on the floor in one of the hovels they'd lived in, until they were evicted and had to move again, each time to somewhere a little worse.
Her aunt had shown her how to do it. First check the pulse across her mother's wrist. If there's no pulse, call an ambulance. If the pulse is steady, place her limbs like this and let her sleep it off.
Shuddering, Andy moved away from the bed. She refused to think about it now. It wasn't fair for a child to have to look after an adult. She'd left it behind. She wouldn't let the niggling guilt of abandoning her mother that she kept hidden from everyone else ruin the happiness of her new life.
She drifted into the living room. It was much smaller than Georgina's. The hardwood floor was bare of rugs. The furniture was sparse and functional. A black leather sofa with a matching recliner filled the center. Opposite the window, a tall bookcase covered the entire wall. Some of the shelves contained neatly labeled files. The rest were empty, except for a stereo system, and a computer with a monitor that doubled up as a TV screen.
When Andy first moved in, her dad took her to a department store with a display of flowered bedspreads and frilly cushions. He invited her to pick out a few things to brighten up the apartment. She refused to buy anything at all. She loved everything just the way it was. It was like her dad, strong and safe and reliable. The floor was shiny and clean. Never again would she need to check for pieces of broken syringes before walking around in her bare feet. The shelves were bare of clutter. Never again would she need to shift through piles of trash to find a take-away container with half-eaten food that was the source of an awful rotting smell.
Andy
It was time to get back to work on her plan, now that she no longer needed to fear that her dad would go nuclear. “She likes you,” Andy said.
"Who?"
"Georgina. She likes you."
"Likes me?” Rick's brows knitted together. “You've got to be kidding."
"Nope. Her face went all pink when I talked about you."
"It was hot in her apartment."
"And you like her too."
His frown deepened. “What makes you think that, pumpkin?"
"I saw you ogling at her legs."
"I did not."
"You always do that. You always ogle at girls in mini-skirts at the mall."
"Don't push your luck, honey. You're in enough trouble already."
"Sorry, Dad. I didn't mean it.” Andy clasped her hands behind her back and crossed her fingers to protect herself against the lie she was about to tell. “I told Georgina you're teaching me to shoot a handgun.” She gave him a crafty look. “You could teach her too."
"Did Georgina suggest that?"
Andy took a deep breath before she answered. It was cool that her dad was a cop, but the problem with cops was that they were trained to tell when someone was lying.
"I promised her that you could. She said I should ask you."
Rick shook his head slowly. “I'm not sure it's a good idea. I might end up shooting her."
"Come on, Dad. Do it. It'll make up for calling her a lesbian."
He reached out and patted her arm. “All right. I guess I could do it. If Georgina wants to, and if it makes you happy."
"Thanks Dad.” Andy leapt out of the chair and collided into his wide chest, secure in the knowledge that his strong arms would wrap around her and keep her from falling.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Five
The following morning, Andy tidied up in the kitchen while her dad was still asleep. Then she put on a load of laundry. While the tumble-dryer churned around, she tiptoed up to his bed. “Dad, are you awake?"
The unintelligible grunt made her smile. He slept on his stomach, one arm tucked under his head, one leg thrown out and bent at the knee. Recovery position. Andy's smile faded as she recalled the countless times she'd arranged her unconscious mother's body in the same way on the floor in one of the hovels they'd lived in, until they were evicted and had to move again, each time to somewhere a little worse.
Her aunt had shown her how to do it. First check the pulse across her mother's wrist. If there's no pulse, call an ambulance. If the pulse is steady, place her limbs like this and let her sleep it off.
Shuddering, Andy moved away from the bed. She refused to think about it now. It wasn't fair for a child to have to look after an adult. She'd left it behind. She wouldn't let the niggling guilt of abandoning her mother that she kept hidden from everyone else ruin the happiness of her new life.
She drifted into the living room. It was much smaller than Georgina's. The hardwood floor was bare of rugs. The furniture was sparse and functional. A black leather sofa with a matching recliner filled the center. Opposite the window, a tall bookcase covered the entire wall. Some of the shelves contained neatly labeled files. The rest were empty, except for a stereo system, and a computer with a monitor that doubled up as a TV screen.
When Andy first moved in, her dad took her to a department store with a display of flowered bedspreads and frilly cushions. He invited her to pick out a few things to brighten up the apartment. She refused to buy anything at all. She loved everything just the way it was. It was like her dad, strong and safe and reliable. The floor was shiny and clean. Never again would she need to check for pieces of broken syringes before walking around in her bare feet. The shelves were bare of clutter. Never again would she need to shift through piles of trash to find a take-away container with half-eaten food that was the source of an awful rotting smell.
Andy
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