Page 131 of Mr. Wicked

Dad’s hand was already gripping Grayson’s shoulder, bringing him over to the small couch, where I knew both men would be so crammed, their knees would be touching.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t see them take a seat; there wasn’t a peek-through in the kitchen.

So I hurried, grabbing the bottle opener from the drawer and pressing the metal spiral into the cork of the red.

Mom brought a beer to Dad and returned to the kitchen, taking out three wineglasses, whispering, “My goodness, he’s handsome.”

“Isn’t he?”

“And so well dressed and put together. Every bit of the city boy I imagined you’d one day be with.”

Brockton was less than thirty miles from Boston.

But aside from the accents people spoke with and the seafood served in the restaurants and the weather, it felt like continents apart.

“That’s what you envisioned?” I poured some into two of the glasses and went to work on the bottle of white. “I didn’t know that.”

“Honey, we never expected you to marry a townie and stay here like your father and I did. We dreamed of big things for you, and you’re doing better than we could have ever imagined.” She pushed a piece of hair off my cheek. “And I don’t just mean by dating Grayson.” When I looked at her, there were tears just starting to fill her eyes. “You’re almost at a million followers, and you’ve been able to quit the bar and focus on your passion full-time. Do you know what an accomplishment that is?” Her voice softened when she added, “We’re so, so proud of you.”

As soon as I pulled the cork out of the bottle of white, I threw my arms around her neck.

But this time, when I pulled away, her hands went to my cheeks. “When I called in to pay the rent yesterday, the property manager told me it had already been taken care of. I knew I was going to see you today, so that’s why I didn’t call and say this over the phone.” The first tear fell past her eyelid, a reaction I knew she didn’t want because she was so prideful. “Jovana, baby, you don’t have to do that. Your father and I have always found a way to manage.”

The reason my mom called in the rent was so that she could put it on her credit card. My parents never had enough in their checking account to cover all their bills.

It had been that way since I was born.

Paycheck to paycheck.

Another reason why they’d never moved from this apartment was because they couldn’t come up with the first and last months’ rent, along with the security deposit, for a new place.

But within the next few months, they were going to move to an apartment where they wouldn’t have to walk up three flights of stairs. Where there was a pool that was more blue than green. Where their carpet wasn’t torn. Where their windows actually opened. Where Mom didn’t have to go to the basement to do the laundry or to a Laundromat since the machines hardly ever worked. Where their view wasn’t of raccoons eating the trash that didn’t make it into the dumpster.

They’d lived here for so long, they no longer had a lease and went month to month, but I’d still let the property manager know that within ninety days, they were leaving.

And if my parents didn’t want to pick out a new apartment, then I would do it for them, making sure that there was an option to buy the property if they decided they loved it.

Because, long term, that was my goal too.

But no matter what, they were moving.

They were finally going to experience the freedom of not being weighed down by a monthly rent and being able to indulge a little. That was something I’d wanted to give them for as long as I could remember.

“I can afford it, Mom. I’m doing really well. And I want to help.”

She shook her head. “I can’t accept it—”

“You can.” I squeezed her fingers. “I’m taking care of me, don’t you worry. My student loans are almost paid off. Aside from that, I have zero debt. I’m saving and investing. I’ve built quite a little nest egg.” Most of that had to do with Grayson’s massive contract, but things were also starting to really pick up business-wise. And within a year, I estimated that I’d be earning close to what Grayson had paid me. “What I’m saying is, there’s plenty of extra, and if this is something I want to do, let me.”

“Baby girl . . .”

“Come on, you need to go spend time with my man before Dad gobbles him up and leaves just a bunch of bones in the living room.” I laughed, quickly pouring her a glass of wine, which I handed to her, and then I lifted the other two glasses of red.

“Thank you.”

I looked over my shoulder.

Mom was wiping her eyes, making sure my father didn’t see that she’d cried.

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