Good Girl : An Enemies-to-Lovers, Roommate Romance (Alphahole Roommates Book 2), page 36
“You expected me to let it go?”
“Yes, frankly. Because you’re a great guy. I might be a spoiled rich bitch and I was in love with your rich prick of a brother, but you’re different. And you might not remember that night, but I do, and even though I was drunk, I remember how great it felt to wake up next to you. And I’ve always liked you, Auz. You grew up good. I don’t see Aiden’s little brother when I look at you now. I see you. And maybe if your mother and brother hadn’t come in, we’d have woken up and talked about what happened and we could’ve started something.”
“You’re out of your mind if you think I’m naïve enough to believe that. Or remotely interested in you. And if you’d gotten my brother instead I’m sure you wouldn’t be giving him the same apology. You’d be gloating that you cost him Carly and you’d be trying to plan out your shotgun wedding of convenience with him even if he hates your guts because you’re the type who has to win.”
She’s a lot like my mother, sadly.
She waves her arms. “Well, none of those things happened. You and me happened. And I don’t know what to say, Austin, except that I fucked up and I’m sorry, and besides that - there’s a baby involved. My mother won’t get out of bed; she’s that worried about me, my dad’s burning a hole in his stomach lining with worry and that’s my fault, so I’m here trying to make it right.”
“You need to go. You came here uninvited, got in the middle of an important conversation, and this conversation is over.”
“You’re rushing me out to get back to low budget Taylor? Please.” She rolls her eyes.
And I want to tell her to shut up. Because not once have I looked at Jada and thought about Taylor. Not even once. And there’s nothing low-class about Jada whatsoever.
“She looks like she came from the bargain bin instead of the top shelf.”
“You’re not real good at groveling, are you, Sienna? Say another bad word about Jada and you’ll regret it.”
She covers her eyes and sighs dramatically.
“You need to leave,” I tell her.
“Will you think about what I’ve said? Even if you stay mad, I know you’re not the kind of guy to make me give birth in prison. Whether it’s your baby or not, and believe me Austin, I’m sure that it is, I know you’re a better person than me and if you do this, your child will be born to parents who are no better than one another. Be better than me.”
“Go.”
“Will you think about it?”
“If I say yeah, will you go?”
“If you mean it.”
“I mean go.”
“If you mean you’ll think about it.”
“Fine. Bye.” I wave toward the hallway.
She grabs her bag and coat and then leans in.
“I’m sorry. I fucked up. And I really, really like you. I think it’d be awesome to raise a kid with you. If you’re not down with that, fine, but I’ve always sworn I’m gonna be a way better mom than mine was, than yours is, and I can only do that if I’m not in prison for making a stupid decision because I was drunk and heartbroken.”
She turns and leaves.
Fuck, I do not want to raise a kid with her. Not at fucking all.
I stand there a minute thinking about the possibility of it with sickness brewing in my gut.
And then I head down the hall and find Jada sitting in my bed, cross-legged, looking at her phone.
I close the door behind myself.
“I’m sorry about that.”
She shakes her head. “It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine. Did you hear any of that?”
She shakes her head. “No. I probably would’ve if you’d put me in my bed instead of yours, but no. I didn’t put my ear to the door, either.”
Maybe it would make things easier if she had heard.
She sighs. “No. You’re right, it’s actually not fine for you to act like you’re Tarzan and I’m Jane, but it’s fine that you needed to talk to her. I want to go now. I’m not sure why you asked me to come here, and dinner was a nice gesture, but Austin, we need to keep things strictly professional.”
“No,” I say.
She shakes her head.
“Uh, yeah, we do. I’m not built for sexy role-playing games with my unattainable boss.”
“Why am I unattainable? I’m right here, wanting to have dinner with you and it’s you that’s trying to leave.”
“Emotionally unattainable,” she says.
“I don’t want to be,” I tell her with a hundred per cent honesty.
“Well, it’s too bad that you are. Because you are. And I have to go.”
She gets up and I block her.
“Austin, for real. You’ve got that full plate, so have I. We’re not simpatico.”
“No? What makes you say that?” I ask.
“Ugh. I’m leaving.”
“Why won’t you answer me?” I push.
“Why is it up to me?” she demands.
I swallow as she waits, as her eyes bore into me, searching my face. What’s she searching for? Truth? Authenticity?
Her mouth twists with disappointment and she throws her hands up in the air. “You’re completely closed off. You invited me here and want me to do all the talking. You might not be doing it just to keep playing this game with us, but I’m of the belief that someone backed into a corner feeling an ultimatum is either going to pick the easier road for themselves or they’re going to resent the person giving them the ultimatum eventually because they were forced to take a harder road. I’m not built for what you want me for but for some reason you want to pretend you’re flexible, but you’re just going to eventually get tired of this and then I’m the one getting hurt, so no. I’m saving us both a lot of trouble here. There’s no ultimatum, no nothing. We’re just – we have to keep it professional.”
“That’s whacked. You don’t know any of that’ll happen. What if-”
“I’m going.” She pushes past me and leaves. I follow her to the front door.
“When are you moving back in here?” I ask.
“I don’t know.” She eyes the pregnancy test now sitting beside my dinner plate and the sadness on her face – I feel it in my gut.
“It might be better to stay with my dad.” Her mouth contorts sourly but she tries to hide it. She doesn’t want to live with her father.
“I want us to talk about this,” I try.
“No, No!” She’s lost her temper now. She points at me and raises her voice. “You haven’t had any sort of come-to-Jesus moment. You’re not explaining yourself, talking to me about your life and your thoughts, explaining anything about your life to me - you’re just standing there talking in circles with me so that I give in and you still give me nothing. I’ll see you when I see you. If you need anything related to my job, please text and I’ll take care of it. I’ll be back tomorrow to clean.”
“The place is spotless. Are you saying I didn’t clean it well?” I try for a joke.
She doesn’t laugh. She doesn’t even smile. Her face falls further.
I’m fucking this up and I can’t make myself fix it.
“I’m saying it’s my job to clean it. And that’s what I’m gonna do. Again, please don’t fire me. Goodnight.”
She storms out and I’m furious with myself. I choked. I couldn’t bring myself to tell her what I want to say. Because I have no fucking idea what I want to say.
I’m broken. I’m fucked up. I’m so fucking into you that I can’t find the words to convey it.
I am so into her.
I have to get my fuckin’ foot out of my mouth and find a way to talk to her. Tell her I read more from the smut file that’s not only smut, but that I want the ending. And I have to tell her the shit that’s been eating me up, so she’ll know that’s why I’m fucked up right now.
I decide to follow her. I jog down the hall to catch up.
“What are you doing?” she asks when I stop the closing elevator door with my hand and get in.
“I’m making sure I get you into a cab.”
“Andrew can do that.”
I growl. “Fuckin’ Andrew. I’ll get you a goddamn cab.”
“Why are you rippin’ on Andrew?” she demands.
“You know why,” I lean in.
She rolls her eyes. “You’re so off base.”
The doors open and we’re looking at him sitting there at his desk eyeballing us.
I want to rip his face off.
“Hey guys.”
“Hey,” I say and follow her out, crowding her with my arm around her.
She shrugs me off and it has me steaming.
“Everything okay?” Andrew rounds his desk and follows.
“Yeah, I’m just going home. Austin’s apparently getting me a taxi.”
Andrew looks at me skeptically.
“I’m not sure this body language he’s got right now makes me feel comfortable,” Andrew says to her like I’m not even here.
“Are you fucking kidding me here?” I snap.
“You’re acting awfully aggressive right now, Austin,” Andrew says condescendingly.
“Listen asshole,” I shove him. “Back off.”
“Whoa, stop it.” Jada gets between us.
“One phone call and you lose your job,” I warn. “You’re outta line.”
“I’m out of line for asking a question when I see someone acting aggressive toward someone I’m concerned about? Not sure how that’s out of line. Certainly not like shoving someone for making an observation.”
“Why did you let that redhead up without buzzing me?”
“What redhead? The one who just left in the stilettos? I don’t know when she got here.”
He’s full of shit.
I point at him. “You’re full of shit. You let her up hoping she causes shit with Jada and me.”
I turn to follow Jada, but she’s gone. I see a cab pulling away from the curb.
Fuck.
“Fuck you, Andrew,” I growl and storm back to the elevator, which is still sitting there so it takes me back upstairs.
He says nothing. I glare at him as the doors close.
Yeah, he’s saying nothing because Jada isn’t here to hear it.
49
Jada
It’s been a week since I walked out on Austin’s beef Wellington. I haven’t seen or talked to him, but I have been to the apartment twice to do my job. He even left me a note asking me to buy a new vacuum for the apartment. Apparently he broke the other one.
He shouldn’t be cleaning the apartment, doing my job, but I said nothing, just ordered the new one with the company credit card and put a checkmark in the margin of his note.
Right now I’m at the kitchen table at my father’s house and I’m still in shock over how today went.
I got a call a few days ago from a lawyer who told me my employer, Carmichael Consulting, referred me as part of their EAP, their Employee Assistance Program. I’m entitled to legal services up to an amount approved by my employer, so he’s given me a phone consultation to get things started, saying they’d send a quote to my human resources department and let me know what’s covered.
I called Carly to thank her, and she said it wasn’t her that referred that law firm. She said she’d ask Aiden, said she hadn’t even thought of it like that but that technically I am employed by Carmichael Consulting and not just Austin Carmichael as I had been when I worked for just Aiden, so it made sense that I got access to legal resources.
She texted me a half an hour later to tell me it wasn’t Aiden that did it.
That leaves Austin.
I had a lengthy argument with myself about whether or not I should say something to him.
I decided not to.
The same day, I also got a strange call from a Dr. Lexington telling me she’d gotten a referral to Shane’s case from a lawyer. She said if her application to the courts is successful, Shane could be moved to the facility she’s at and put under a program she helps run.
This doctor spent over half an hour on the phone asking questions about him and explaining that this pilot project is at a mental health center and the application’s success could mean customized help for Shane in a hospital instead of a prison. She sounds like she knows what she’s talking about and actually gives a damn. I gave her the name of the doctor and clinic Shane was working with and having okay results with so that she can confer.
It’s like a weight is off my shoulders. Not the entire weight, but some of it.
Then the lawyer sent me an email today to tell me I qualify for ten thousand dollars’ worth of hours with his firm and that he will do everything he can to try to help me within that amount of money so that it doesn’t cost me anything over that. I told him I won’t have anything over that to spend and he says that if I want to go back to legal aid at that point, most of the work will be done. I should sign up immediately.
He sent me an email with the ten-thousand-dollar voucher. Reading the fine print; I had concerns, so I called him back.
“I’m a temporary employee. I’ll only be working for them for three months and I’m worried you won’t get paid because-”
“They’ve approved it.”
“I should make sure it’s not an oversight.”
“Feel free to do that.”
Against my better judgement, I text Austin.
Me: Hi. I got contacted about the EAP for legal advice for Carmichael Consulting employees. Do I qualify for that?
Austin: Yes, you do.
Me: They’re trying to tell me I get 10K worth of legal services that I can use for my brother. I’m a temp employee. Surely that’s wrong.
Austin: It’s not. I approved it. Don’t worry about it. Those lawyers are on retainer. Use them. Get your brother the help he needs.
Me: Why are you doing this?
Austin: Can’t chat right now. Headed into a meeting.
I bite my lip in contemplation and then I respond to the email from the lawyer and tell them I’ll happily use their services. The lawyer calls promptly to tell he’ll get in to see Shane as soon as possible. I tell him about the call from Dr. Lexington and he says he’ll liaise with her and do what he can to expedite Shane being moved to her facility.
An hour later, the lawyer emails and tells me not to get my hopes up but there’s a possibility that Shane will get a plea deal and be able to serve that deal at Dr. Lexington’s hospital instead of in prison.
I tell myself not to hope but I break down in tears of relief anyway.
***
The Next Evening
I come back from my writing workshop after coffee with Raven and Andrew. I walk into my father’s house and find him face down on the living room floor. Shakily, I call 9-1-1.
But it’s too late. My father is gone.
50
Austin
My phone rings while I’m getting ready for work.
Jada calling.
She’s up early.
I answer it.
“Hey.”
“I’m sorry but I can’t work today.”
“Okay,” I say.
The kitchen is full of food and the apartment is clean, so I’m perplexed with why she’s calling to say this, especially this early.
She holds the phone, not saying anything.
Something’s not right.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Jada?” I prod after a long beat.
It takes almost a full minute for her to speak.
“My father had what they think was a massive stroke last night. He’s… gone.”
Fuck.
“Where are you?”
“In his house. I have to… I have to make arrangements, and I don’t know how long it’ll all take for everything, so-”
“I’m coming over.”
“Oh. Uh, no, don’t. It’s okay, I…”
“I’m on my way.” I hang up.
***
When I pull into the driveway with the rental car, she appears on the porch looking confused.
“I rented it. You’re gonna need to do a bunch of running around,” I say, answering her unspoken question.
She doesn’t just look confused, she looks wrecked.
She rubs her eyes with her fingertips.
I climb the steps onto the porch and pull her into a hug. She’s stiff though. She doesn’t lean into me, she doesn’t cry, she doesn’t do anything. She just stands there.
“C’mon.” I pull the screen door wide and usher her inside.
The place is small, cramped, old, a little musty smelling.
We’re in a small foyer and straight ahead to the left is a family room and dining room combination. To the right is an eat-in kitchen. In the middle is a narrow stairway going straight up.
I follow her into the kitchen where the kettle is whistling on the avocado-colored stove.
“You want some coffee? Instant. My father doesn’t have a coffee maker. Didn’t. Didn’t have…”
“Hey, why don’t you sit. I’ll make you one. Talk to me.”
“I’ve had enough coffee. More than enough.” She says this bitterly.
I turn the dial on the stove to off and move the screaming kettle to the next burner.
She sits at the little table, sticking her palms between her knees, shoulders slumping.
“Talk to me. What happened?”
She blinks a couple times.
I wait, seeing she needs patience here. The look on her face hurts. It feels like I’ve been kicked in the gut.
“I came back last night,” she says softly, like she doesn’t want anyone to hear, “and he was face-down on the rug in front of his chair. My mom used to say he’d probably die in that chair. And it looks like he did. But he f-fell out.” She makes a choking sound that I think might turn into tears, but it doesn’t happen.
She stares into the void like she can still see him the way she found him. I move closer and squat, putting my hands on her shoulders. She looks up at me and her pretty eyes are bloodshot.
“You’ve been up all night.”
She nods slowly. “It took time for them to come get him and take him to the… the…” she lets that hang. “I called you after they left.”
