Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
“What do you take me for?” She wipes her face with the back of her hand, smearing dirt over her cheek. “I didn’t give him my real name.” She snickers. “How does Delilah sound? I’ve always thought it has a sexy ring to it.”
“Can you please be serious for a minute? You know what’s on the line.”
Whatever she sees on my face sobers her. “Chill, will you? It’s been over five years. If he was going to find you, it would’ve happened a long time ago.”
Maybe she’s right. I want to believe that—desperately—but I can never be sure.
“Don’t worry.” She pulls her phone from her back pocket, wakes up the screen, and wiggles a website with a flashy header for home repairs in my face. “The driver of that truck is legit. The handyman service is his own business. He charges a steep call-out fee, but he’s got great reviews.”
Fine, so maybe that explains why his truck has been parked across the street for the past two afternoons. My obsessively anxious self still doesn’t like it.
Jazz waggles her eyebrows as she puts her phone away. “The guy is a dish, and he’s not wearing a ring.” She takes a sharpie from the front pocket of her lumberjack shirt and scribbles bank statements on the box she’s added to the pile. “Maybe you should ask him out on a date.” Grinning, she waves her sharpie like a magic wand at me before pulling the next box closer. “You, my friend, need to have some fun, and guys looking like that don’t come around often.”
The idea is so laughable I don’t bother to reply. The list of reasons why dating is a very bad idea is a mile long. If every factor why I shouldn’t see someone were a clause on a contract, the fine-print would contain more asterisks than snowflakes in a blizzard.
For starters, I don’t have time for dating. Even if I had, I have a big fat target painted on my back and a juicy price on my head. The last time I heard, it was a nice round million. Men tell me I’m pretty, but I’m not that pretty, at least not the kind they’d choose over a million dollars in unmarked bills.
Then there are the logistics. You can’t date someone with the hope of building a relationship if you don’t hang around in one place for more than a few months. Noah and I have been on the run constantly. I’ve only recently made a new life for us here, testing the waters in the quieter neighborhoods of Denver. I’m finally daring to dream that it’s possible to disappear in a big city far away from New York and just breathe for a while. God knows, Noah needs the stability. He’ll be turning five in December. Next year, he has to go to school. He’s just a little boy who needs friends, a dog, and new shoes.
I look at my sweet baby who’s invented a game to play indoors because he’s not allowed to kick his ball outside. Noah doesn’t complain. He’s such a good kid. He’s still young enough to accept my rules without questioning them.
That’s not going to last forever. Like all growing children, he’ll want freedom and answers, and when I can’t give him either, he’ll challenge me. My brother, Leander, made our lives hell during his teenager years. For some reason, he blamed all his issues on my mom. She never had it easy with him. Yet she always said he’d been the sweetest baby.
Watching Noah like this, my insides turn all mushy. And then guilt sets in to taint that bottomless love and infinite affection with the acrid taste of failure. Because it’s my fault that he has to live like this, always running and hiding. Because of my mistake, I can’t give him the life he deserves. What kind of mother does that make me?
Jazz finishes labeling the last box. “At least think about it. I’ll watch Noah. It’s no biggie. It’s about time you break your five year-long dry spell.”
Frowning, I mouth, “Not in front of Noah.”
She cocks an eyebrow. “But wouldn’t that be nice?”
The kind of nice she means has no place in my life. Did I mention guys my age don’t want to date girls with my baggage? At twenty-four, they’re more likely to sign up for drinks at the club and a good time getting naked than playing hide and seek with a four year-old or sailing paper boats in the tub. I doubt they’d get excited about wieners with spaghetti hair for dinner.
The truth is I don’t mind. I love spending every minute I can with Noah. I wouldn’t be able to relax if I’m too far away from him. I never know when my past is going to catch up with me. The last thing I want is for that to happen when I’m making out with some guy I’m not really interested in while my baby’s safety is on the line.