Page 109 of Rent Free

ATLAS

What a week it’d been.

Not only had I had to work five of the last seven days, but I’d also had to provide my testimony on Sage.

Sage who hadn’t gotten bail because she was considered a flight risk.

I didn’t disagree, and I was glad that she was out of the picture for the time being.

Not that I thought she was going to stay gone.

But I had to handle one issue at a time, and today’s issue was Emory.

The last thing I wanted to do was go to court.

However, today was the day I had to fight for my son, and no matter what, I would be going. No matter how tired I was.

Last night a SWAT call had gone out for a hostage situation at the Taco Bell near the station.

We’d spent nearly four hours there trying to figure out how the hell to get three people out of the freezer without killing them in our attempt, or freezing them to death in the process.

Turns out, they hadn’t needed us at all, because one of the employees got tired of being cold and had taken out the woman holding them hostage with a bag of frozen tortillas.

When we’d gotten back to the station I’d chosen to go ahead and stay, and head straight to court from there.

Forest was being watched by my mother and sister, while Pepper was meeting me at the courthouse.

I arrived five minutes ahead of her, and I grinned at the pencil skirt she was wearing.

“You look smokin’,” I said, reaching for her once she was close enough.

“I try,” she flipped her hair. “But also, I wanted to appear like a professional badass.” She paused. “I have to go take a headshot. I got a call today from someone.”

My brows rose, curiosity sparking in my entire being. “Yeah?”

“I have a huge possible sponsorship opportunity for a billionaire in Dallas,” she said excitedly. “Apparently, his wife was the recipient of one of my wigs, and when I wouldn’t take any more money than cost, the billionaire dude reached out through my social media page and asked for me to get a headshot done, and agree to a sponsorship deal so we can reach more people with my work.”

I raised a brow at her. “Is that what you want?”

She shrugged, then nodded. Both moves in complete congruence.

“Well, which is it, baby?” I chuckled.

“Well,” she made a cute little confused face. “I don’t know. On one hand, I’d love to make this into a full-time gig. But I’ll never be comfortable with charging a whole lot. This way, I might be able to do it full-time, but also get a little more out of it than cost. If that makes sense.”

It did.

“Making your own hours, and doing what you love, is important. Love what you do, and you’ll never work another day for the rest of your life.” I tucked her hair behind her ear.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Which is why I want you to take my picture really quick while my hair looks good. Make sure you only get my collar bone up.”

“It won’t look good when you’re done?” I wondered.

“I’m sure Emory will make me want to pull my hair out,” she admitted.

I snapped about twenty photos so she could pick the one she wanted and handed her phone back to her.

She tucked it into her purse but paused. “Oh, I have to go take my gun out of my purse. I’m not allowed to carry it in there, right?”

---