Read Online The Hitman's Baby - A Bad Boy Secret Baby Romance (With extra added bonus novel for a short time only!) by Ashley Rhodes - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Ashley Rhodes
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gather the things she needed. In the store room she waited for the counter assistant to fill the order and messaged the mother of one of Ramon’s band friends. There was a recital tonight where he would be playing the violin for gathered PTA members for a fundraiser and she was probably going to just barely make it in time to see him play. “Running late at work. Will be there. Save me a seat, tell Ramon not to worry.”
Just as Andy, the counter assistant, came back with her order the response came. “Will do. Drive safe. Better late than dead.”
Right.
The toning process took a grueling, tense half hour, but when it was done the woman was at least impressed enough with how it turned out—the shade of blond she wanted but not stiff and breaking—that she left a tip when she paid. Five bucks. Still, small victories.
Once that was done, Cassandra fairly flew around the salon banging out her cleanup duties as quickly as she could, and then barely said a word of goodbye when she launched herself out the door and to the street. Normally she walked back and forth to work—it was only about fifteen blocks—but traffic was clear enough to grab a taxi and not suffer for it.
She hurled cash at the driver when they arrived, took the stairs up two at a time rather than waiting on the elevator, and didn’t even check her appearance before she left the house. In ten minutes she was back on the street hailing another cab.
That Ramon had been accepted to a private school in first grade was nothing short of a miracle, although it was a mostly white school looking to cultivate a more diverse student population. The miracle had been that they had used grants to cover part of his tuition, which made the money she’d kept set aside from Nick’s initial gift go a lot further. He’d been exposed to things Cassandra never imagined he’d have access to and among them had been a music program—a serious one, not recorders and triangles and ukuleles like most early music programs had, but strings, woodwinds, the full spread.
His violin was used, and she’d had to learn a lot about how to take care of it with him to ensure that it lasted him long enough until she could afford a better one, but he played it beautifully. St. Peter’s music program wasn’t competitive, instead fostering team work and camaraderie—but he was first chair more often than he wasn’t. Usually he shared it with his friend Angus, the two of them trading first and second back and forth.
Angus’ mother spotted Cassandra when she crept into the auditorium, and waved her over. The lights had just dimmed; she’d made it at the last possible second.
When she sat down, padding to her chair on cat’s feet, and finally was able to relax, she found that she couldn’t. Something was… wrong. What, exactly, she couldn’t put her finger on, but try as she might she wasn’t able to focus on the performance and normally she was riveted no matter what they were playing. This was a collection of semi-orchestral children’s songs.
What was wrong?
“Is there… is someone missing?” Cassandra whispered to Angus’ mother Lela.
Lela glanced at her, concerned, and then looked over the little enclave of junior musicians. She shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. Why?”
Cassandra just shook her head, and tried to focus on the concert.
The feeling stuck with her until the very end. By then, she had begun to grow a nervous sense of recognition. You didn’t live the life she’d lived before Ramon without taking a little trauma away with you, and something had triggered it. Maybe it was someone she saw on the way here. Maybe it was a client she’d seen at work. Maybe it was an unfamiliar face in the PTA crowd—she looked, but while she didn’t know all the names of all the parents yet she didn’t see anyone new.
Still, she became more and more certain.
Someone was watching them.
When the concert was finished, Ramon understandably wanted to hang out
Just as Andy, the counter assistant, came back with her order the response came. “Will do. Drive safe. Better late than dead.”
Right.
The toning process took a grueling, tense half hour, but when it was done the woman was at least impressed enough with how it turned out—the shade of blond she wanted but not stiff and breaking—that she left a tip when she paid. Five bucks. Still, small victories.
Once that was done, Cassandra fairly flew around the salon banging out her cleanup duties as quickly as she could, and then barely said a word of goodbye when she launched herself out the door and to the street. Normally she walked back and forth to work—it was only about fifteen blocks—but traffic was clear enough to grab a taxi and not suffer for it.
She hurled cash at the driver when they arrived, took the stairs up two at a time rather than waiting on the elevator, and didn’t even check her appearance before she left the house. In ten minutes she was back on the street hailing another cab.
That Ramon had been accepted to a private school in first grade was nothing short of a miracle, although it was a mostly white school looking to cultivate a more diverse student population. The miracle had been that they had used grants to cover part of his tuition, which made the money she’d kept set aside from Nick’s initial gift go a lot further. He’d been exposed to things Cassandra never imagined he’d have access to and among them had been a music program—a serious one, not recorders and triangles and ukuleles like most early music programs had, but strings, woodwinds, the full spread.
His violin was used, and she’d had to learn a lot about how to take care of it with him to ensure that it lasted him long enough until she could afford a better one, but he played it beautifully. St. Peter’s music program wasn’t competitive, instead fostering team work and camaraderie—but he was first chair more often than he wasn’t. Usually he shared it with his friend Angus, the two of them trading first and second back and forth.
Angus’ mother spotted Cassandra when she crept into the auditorium, and waved her over. The lights had just dimmed; she’d made it at the last possible second.
When she sat down, padding to her chair on cat’s feet, and finally was able to relax, she found that she couldn’t. Something was… wrong. What, exactly, she couldn’t put her finger on, but try as she might she wasn’t able to focus on the performance and normally she was riveted no matter what they were playing. This was a collection of semi-orchestral children’s songs.
What was wrong?
“Is there… is someone missing?” Cassandra whispered to Angus’ mother Lela.
Lela glanced at her, concerned, and then looked over the little enclave of junior musicians. She shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. Why?”
Cassandra just shook her head, and tried to focus on the concert.
The feeling stuck with her until the very end. By then, she had begun to grow a nervous sense of recognition. You didn’t live the life she’d lived before Ramon without taking a little trauma away with you, and something had triggered it. Maybe it was someone she saw on the way here. Maybe it was a client she’d seen at work. Maybe it was an unfamiliar face in the PTA crowd—she looked, but while she didn’t know all the names of all the parents yet she didn’t see anyone new.
Still, she became more and more certain.
Someone was watching them.
When the concert was finished, Ramon understandably wanted to hang out
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