Page 102 of The Blackmail of Denise Randall

I take the notepad and stare down at my sketch. I’m too frightened I’ll fail and disappoint my parents. I’m even more scared, that I’ll fail and disappoint myself more.

My mind shifts back to the present when Keaton clears his throat. “I think you’re making a mistake.”

I scoff at how bold he’s being. Him talking about my passion and career choices is more offensive to me than any suggestive remark he’s made. “You’ve gotten to know me over the last couple of weeks so now—”

As usual, he interrupts me. “I’ve gotten to know you better over the last couple of weeks than most have over a couple of years. I know you’re making a mistake. I know you’ll regret not pursuing your passion. I see you, Denise. I see how your eyes light up over fashion. I see how you concentrate over those sketches. I see the vacant look in your eyes when you speak about your wonderful internship. I see the void and lack of passion about anything remotely pertaining to your future career. It’s clear as day what you’re meant to do. I may have not known you for a long time, but I’ve always seen you. I see you, Denise.”

He stares intently at me. Slowly, he raises a finger and points toward me. “It’s time you start seeing yourself. Stop worrying about escaping whatever Randall name image you have in your head. Because that’s where it is. All in your amazing intelligent head.”

“Is that your pep talk?”

“That’s me stating the facts.”

“Is that so? Then why don’t you become a police officer? You obviously enjoy it.”

“We’re talking about you.”

“Well, I don’t believe you have enough evidence to support your claims.”

He gives a light chuckle. “I’ll work on gathering more evidence to build my case then, Miss Randall.”

“You do that.”

“So, I guess I fell asleep?”

I try to stop the smirk tugging at the corner of my lips. I simply nod but refuse to look at him for fear I’d burst out laughing. “You were tired.”

“I, um, guess it’s getting late.”

“Yeah,” I lick my lips and then sit the sketchpad down, “I should probably get home.”

“Or…you could stay here?”

“I could.” I’ve never slept at a guy’s house. Roland always stayed at my apartment. The one and only time with Keaton, I was out of it. I’ve also never had to confront my parents about spending the night with someone. This is all new territory. I’m twenty-one years old and an adult, but I’m still their little princess. It might sound immature, but this is going to be the first time I’ll have to acknowledge to my parents that I’m not a virgin. They’ll know if I spend the night with Keaton. Even if Keaton and I don’t do anything. If I spent the night at his house, they’ll suspect. And I can’t stay here and not tell them, even if I am living in the guest house. They check on me still, especially after everything that has happened.

“Let me call my parents real quick.”

Keaton gives me a sweet smile. Seeing one of those adorable dimples appear again, I can’t help myself, so I lean over and lick his right cheek before stepping into the other room to call my mom.

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