Page 22 of Conceal

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We head out onto the city streets to find her car so we can drive to Mr. Reed’s house again. I’m not sure where she parked, but it’s cold enough that I’m shivering, so I hope it’s not far.

Maggie keeps her car parked on the street instead of a parking lot. Apparently, city parking lots cost an arm and a leg, so she parks on the street, rotating spots depending on the days and the parking rules.

It sounds exhausting to have to move your car every few hours, but she needs a car for work. In heels and dressed like I’m working the streets, we finally get to her car and climb in. Then we set off out of the city again. The only difference is we have gas this time. There will be no gas station. No arrogant, gorgeous stranger and, more importantly, no stealing from said arrogant, gorgeous stranger.

I wonder if he’ll be there. Or maybe I’ll get lucky and won’t have to face him.

We’re already square, seeing as I sent back the money, but being face-to-face with him again still makes my stomach nervous.

I’m not sure why.

It’s not because I want him. Sure, he’s handsome, but I’m not in the right frame of mind for a relationship, let alone a one-night stand. But he still does crazy things to me. Maybe it’s because he shows me how far from grace I have fallen in the past few months.

Before my recent turn of events, I’d never thought I’d steal. But I guess you never know what you’ll do when you’re desperate enough.

I was desperate, and I made a bad decision.

He has seen the ugliest side of me, and I’m not proud of that. I hope he doesn’t tell Maggie.

That would be awful.

It’s bad enough I’m ashamed of my actions, but to have anyone else know would be too much. I couldn’t handle that.

Not now.

Not after everything.

She already looks at me with eyes full of pity. This would be downright awful. I’m not sure I could ever look at her again if she knew. Fuck, I’m not sure I could look at myself again.

With a lot on my mind tonight, the weight of my decision to work again hanging over me, I don’t speak.

We ride out of the city in silence. She weaves in and out of traffic while I stare out the window, lost in space.

Even though I’m not ready to see Jaxson Price, I’m happy to have left the apartment. Hiding out was getting old. It’s the only place I feel safe.

It’s not like anyone will find me here. It will be okay.

It doesn’t take us long to get out of the city, and the trip flies by from the moment we cross over the bridge.

Traffic at this time of night is minimal.

Soon, we are turning onto the sprawling property. Darkness is all around us as we pull in through the back driveway, the one reserved for the help.

I’m not used to entering this way.

But things have changed, and if there is one thing I have learned these past few months, it’s adapt or die.

Since I’m not ready to die . . .

I’m willing to do anything to survive.

Including and not limited to putting up with drunk men for tips.

Maggie parks the car, and then we head inside through the servant’s entry.

One woman I recognize from last week, and another one I don’t. Today there are four servers and a bartender, so I assume tonight will be busier than last time.

I’m okay with that.

Even if it’s more work, it means that if Jax is here, there is less of a chance that he’ll blindside me.

One can hope at least.

That man is way too good-looking and arrogant. He’s the type of man who could distract me from my purpose here, and I don’t need any distractions.

The guests filter in not long after we get there. I don’t see him at first. Then from the corner of the room, a familiar smirk meets my stare. We lock eyes for a beat, and I’m not sure if he’ll approach or what I’ll do if he does.

He turns and walks in the opposite direction. For some unknown reason, I’m disappointed.

I shake off the feeling. There is no room for it here.

My life right now is like choosing to fly into the Bermuda Triangle. A bad idea. I will not concern myself with him.

I head over to a group of men mingling on the other side of the room. When one looks at me, I open my mouth to speak, but the arrogant jerk cuts me off. “Scotch for us all, doll.”

My back goes stiff, and I’m left staring at him like a gawking fool. It’s hard for me to bite my tongue. Old Willow wouldn’t have.

“Now, that’s no way to talk to a lady,” I hear from beside me.


Tags: Ava Harrison Romance