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“Oh, never mind. It was a long shot, anyway.”

“Mom, you didn’t go asking anyone for money, did you?”

Her sigh was heavy and it terrified me that she might have. “Mom!”

“Well, I made a few calls. I’ve set up some meetings for tomorrow.”

“Mom!” I cried.

“Freya, don’t be so upset. We wi—”

“Mom, I don’t care what happens. You’re not going to see those people. I don’t want you to beg from anyone. So what if we lose our home? We’ll use the eight thousand we have now to get a temporary place, then once my money comes in, we’ll buy ourselves a small place, okay?”

“It’s grandma’s home,” she said to me. “We can’t let them take it away. It’s your inheritance.”

I tried hard to keep my voice bright and happy. “It’s okay, Mom. It’s okay. We’ll manage.”

“Come home now,” she said to me. “We need to talk about this.”

“I’m already on the bus and on my way.”

“I love you, Freya.”

“I love you too, Mom,” I said and my voice broke. Once we had been so rich and look at us now. I had money I couldn’t touch and we were about to be kicked out of our home.

My mother and I began to pack up almost as soon as I got home. We didn’t say a word to each other beyond the practical comments of where what should go and the surprise of just how much stuff we had. Maddie had said we could stay at her apartment until we found a place and she would go stay with Ella.

I burst into tears when they came around to tell me that. We had a group hug and bawled our eyes out. Afterwards, they helped too. Everything was in boxes when an envelope was pushed through the door. It bore the mark of the bailiffs, and I opened it with shaking hands.

And … stared at it in shock.

“What is it?” Ella asked at the look on my face.

I couldn’t speak.

“Honey,” my mom called.

Maddie snatched the letter out of my hand. “Let me see that,” she said taking over.

“What's going on?” my mother asked, her voice thin with worry.

Maddie looked up from the letter. “The arrears for the loan against the apartment has been paid. The bailiffs have been called off.”

My mother crumpled into a heap on the floor.

I hurried over to her. “Mom?”

“How? By whom?” she whispered.

“They don’t say,” Maddie said.

“Yay!” Ella screamed.

“Well, I went to your uncle Leslie yesterday, but he wasn’t very welcoming. Was he the one? But then ... I didn't even get the chance to mention the amount before I was shut down. How did he know where to go or how much to pay?”

Both Maddie and Ella looked at me with knowing expressions.

I looked away, and the sickening feeling returned to my stomach. I excused myself and escaped to my room. There, I thought long and hard, and eventually picked up my phone. I dialed Brent’s number multiple times but could not reach him.

Both Ella and Maddie came into my room.

“You want to go to him, don’t you?” Ella asked.

I nodded dumbly.

“Just go,” Ella said softly. “We’ll sort everything out with your Mom.”

“What if he had something to do with my Dad’s death,?” I whispered.

“He is innocent until proven guilty. No matter what, he just saved your ass for you, Freya. Go say thank you.”

I grabbed my coat and ran out of the apartment after telling my mother some yarn about having to meet a fellow student.

Freya

It was already late evening and devastatingly cold when I took the train to Brent’s home in Chelsea. To my surprise, I didn’t even have to ring the bell before I was immediately let in through the gates.

When I arrived at the door, a thin man in acid washed jeans introduced himself as Brent’s PA. His name was Michael and he seemed to know exactly who I was. “Let me take you to him. He’s in his study,” he said. After a brief knock, he opened the door.

I walked in to meet Brent seated behind a heavy oak desk. He was on the phone. He indicated with his palm that I should take a seat opposite him.

I just stood close to the door and looked around me so I wouldn’t have to look at him and his devastating beauty. The space was lavishly endowed with wall to ceiling bookshelves, an antique fireplace and mantle, leather furnishes.

I tried my best to keep my nerves, and the memories of the last time I had been in the house at bay. Soon, he was done with his call and I was forced to look at him.

He was wearing a sky-blue sweater that hugged his broad shoulders and the warmth from the room and fire, gave his skin the sheen of warm milk. I wanted nothing more than to run my fingers through his hair, have his beautiful mouth on my breasts, and his hard cock inside of me. Would every man I tried to love from now on, always fall short of him? Jesus! Love? Where did that come from? I must be losing my mind.

He was watching me quietly.

I cleared my throat. “Oh … uh,” I began. “Did you … Did you pay the arrears outstanding on my mother’s apartment?”


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