Page 74 of All That Glitters

I need my mom right now, and I fucking hate being alone. I’ve got no one. River is scheduled to head up to northern Cali this morning for another café visit, and not only do I not want to bother her, I’m not sure how much I can tell her.

We’ve kind of fallen out of communication, with me being so busy with shooting the movie and her social media growing by thousands of followers every week.

There’s no one to talk to about Marcus and how badly I want him, how torn I am between the smart thing to do, which is distance myself as much as I’m physically and legally able, or what I want to do. I want to jump his bones and lose myself.

The doorbell rings just as I lift the espresso to my lips, and I jump at the sound, coffee splashing across the counter.

My heart leaps and lodges somewhere beneath my sternum. Who the hell is ringing the doorbell at nine am? I set the mug down and switch it out for one of the knives in the butcherblock. The handle is too large for my hand, but the gleam of the blade in the sunlight is oddly satisfying.

Could it possibly be one of Parker’s goons, those guys from yesterday who towered over me and treated me like a piece of meat?

Maybe one of them knows Marcus isn’t here, and they’ve come for me again.

I swallow hard, my throat dry as a desert. Whoever it is, I’m not going to make it easy for them to take me again. He’ll be home soon. Wherever he’s gone, he has to be home soon.

I pad softly to the front door, the knife held out in front of me with shaky fingers. The shadow through the glass is wavy and indecipherable, but it doesn’t look like a dude, not from this angle. My heart still beats out of control.

“Empire? Sweetie?” Another knock sounds at the door. “It’s me. It’s Sherry. I see you there!”

I recognize the voice, and suddenly, the knife in my hands feels silly. I feel silly.

“Sorry, Sherry,” I call back. “Hold on one second.”

I bury the knife in the nearest fern where she can’t see it and ask me questions then flip the locks to open the door. My smile is genuine when I greet her. The older lady has always been nothing but nice to me.

Today, she’s in a flowery sundress cut low at the bust, with a thick line of necklaces drooping down to her bust. Her white hair is coiffed around her face in soft waves, accentuated by the sharp points of her cat-eye sunglasses.

“Hi! Sorry about that. Come on in.” I step back to let her inside the mansion, spying a folder clutched in her hands.

“Oh, sweetie, it’s fine. You probably weren’t expecting me to show up on your doorstep.”

“You didn’t want to text?”

“I tried. I didn’t get an answer, and you know me.” Her eyes sparkle when she pushes the glasses up into her hair. “I’m not one who wants to wait on things. Better to get it over with.”

“I thought you were coming yesterday, and I honestly got…distracted. I completely forgot.” I rub my temples.

“Yes, I’m sorry I missed you yesterday. I planned to come in the afternoon, but Marcus texted me that he had some things to take care of, and I should be in the office—” Sherry breaks off and shakes her head. “Anyway, I got busy as well. That’s my point.”

“Well, we might as well get comfortable.” I gesture her further into the house before I lose what little is left of my manners. “Do you want something to drink?”

“No thank you, love. I’m fine. I thought I’d stop by this morning and catch you while we’re both fresh,” she says.

“I don’t know about fresh, but thanks for coming. I’m sorry I didn’t answer your texts.” I wave for her to follow me into the living room. “You said you have something you need me to sign?”

“Absolutely. I brought the papers. Take a look, and then we can get this matter settled.” Sherry rolls her eyes. “You know how Marcus can be sometimes. He’s a dog with a bone when he wants something done, but when it comes to certain paperwork, he shoves it to the back burner and lets it simmer until it’s almost boiled over!”

I want to tell her that, in fact, I don’t really know. He’s kept me far apart from his business. I’m not even sure if he has other clients. To be honest, the last few months have been difficult enough for me to get through, and I haven’t been the same person.

I haven’t wanted to know.

It’s been a struggle to look outside of my grief and find joy or life or purpose in anything. All I've wanted is my old life back, to find a way to rewind the clock and keep things exactly as they’d been before the crash, when I’d been happy.

And Sherry is staring at me as though she knows exactly what I’m thinking.

It felt lovely to not be alone, and even nicer to sit with Sherry for a bit, the folder on my lap and her presence calming. No death. No destruction.

“So these are the papers Marcus doesn't want me to see, huh?” I ask with an anxious laugh.

---