Page 2 of Saved By My Buyers

“One thing I remember is how much he enjoyed helping others,” I force out. I struggle to find a friendly face, my eyes finally lighting on Jack Katz. He’s Dad’s best friend, and always came for visits whenever possible.

He always had time for me.

Thinking quickly, I lie, hoping he won’t hate me for it or maybe even notice. Jack leans forward, appearing worried as he gazes at me, but I focus on his green eye. Jack has some sort of condition where he has different colored eyes, however, I can’t remember what it’s called right now. I’m too busy forcing myself to not pass out.

I’ve been quiet for too long, and people are shifting in their seats. Crap on toast, I need to move this along.

“When I was eight, Dad took me to the fair,” I lie. He did take me, but left me with Jack to schmooze with clients there. “It may sound silly, but it was a day where the word ‘no’ didn’t exist. We rode all the rides, ate junk food, even bet on the pig races.”

People chuckle at my words, solely because the money from those races go to charity. I can’t disgrace Dad even in death, after all.

“My father was a very busy man,” I continue, wanting nothing more than to get back to my seat. My knees are knocking together, and Jack is openly frowning at me. “He always had time for me, though.”

Lie, lie, lie. My traitorous thoughts follow me as I duck my head to allow my thick, dark curls to fall forward, hiding my face. Let them think I’m overcome with grief. That’s miles better than the huge liar I am.

“I didn’t know he did that,” Mom says, voice in awe. “The bond they had will be missed, that’s for sure.”

Mom says a bit more, things that I completely ignore, and then she’s dragging me back to our seats. People murmur their condolences as we pass them by, and I can feel Jack’s searing gaze staring at the back of my head once I’m sitting again.

Apparently he’s been sitting two rows back the entire time. Once the sermon is over, I stand with Mom and Cyrus to leave, lost in my thoughts as I walk.

“Careful, Dahlia,” Mom gasps as I almost run into Jack.

Glancing up, I stare up at him in dismay.

“She’s alright, Lucia,” Jack says softly. “I flew down as soon as I heard. I’m sorry I couldn’t get away before this.”

Dad has been dead for four days. It’s hard to believe our world upended so quickly, yet certain aspects of it feel hazy. My stomach hurts as I think about the fights I’ve heard Mom have with my aunt about how we’re going to be able to afford our house, because it’s not paid off and she doesn’t work.

It looks like just one more thing I’m going to lose.

“I know you did,” Mom says with a nod, sighing. “There’s so many people who are going to want to talk to Cyrus and I. Can you take Dahlia home?”

I feel relieved that I won’t have to make small talk with people I don’t know, even as I start to feel a little dizzy, because Jack is probably going to call me out for lying. My anxiety is kicking into high gear right now.

“Of course, Lucia,” Jack says, his hand on my shoulder as he guides me forward. My dad’s best friend is a force of nature, one that everyone seems to like immediately. Someone once said the word…charismatic. That’s it. It describes Jack perfectly.

“I’ll see you at home,” Mom calls, and though I nod, I don’t respond to her, because I know I’m in good hands, I’m just overwhelmed and emotional.

Jack keeps people at a distance as he demands them to step back as we walk through the aisle. Anytime people look mildly annoyed that we’re moving past them instead of waiting for the line to clear, they look over and see me walking with Jack. People quickly make room, whispering words of sympathy.

Before I know it, I’m out of the stuffy church and under the sunshine. It’s a warmer day than normal for February, which doesn’t mean much when it’ll get cooler as the sun begins to go down. Florida weather is really odd.

“Dolly, are you okay?” Jack asks, surprising me as he opens the door to his rental truck. Frowning at the freaking size of it, I raise my foot to try to get up into it. “Sh- shoot, I didn’t think.”

Carefully picking me up by putting his hands on my waist, he makes sure my feet are underneath me as I sit.

“Thanks,” I murmur, turning to face him. My mom is the first to tell me about not getting into cars with strangers, but Jack is the least creepy human on the planet. “Fine would be a lie. Trying not to do that right now.”

Jack barks out a laugh, shaking his head. “Right now, but not a half hour ago?”

“I hear time is relative,” I mutter as he shuts the door.

I watch him as he walks around the truck, muttering under his breath and pushing his fingers through his dirty-blond hair. There’s a wry smile on his lips when he opens the door and swings into his seat, his mismatched eyes glittering with mischief, even as I can see the sadness in them.

Dad and he were best friends. I don’t want to have to tell Jack that I lied because I don’t have any happy memories with Dad.

None that I could think of on the spot, anyway.

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