Page 169 of Holiday Hire

She did. It's not her fault.

He was showing her picture all over town.

It's still not her fault.

I don't know how much time passes before I finally go inside the house and into the kitchen.

Phoebe sits at the table with a first aid kit, bowl of water, and towel.

She softly states, "You're bleeding. Sit down."

My fist throbs in pain, and it's covered in blood. So I sit down but stay quiet.

She takes a washcloth, dips it in the water, and carefully cleans my knuckles. Then she puts ointment on my broken skin and wraps gauze around my hand. She asks, "What are you telling the boys?"

"About what?"

She motions toward my hand. "About why you have gauze around your fist."

"I'm going to tell them I pummeled your ex-boyfriend," I state.

Anger flashes in her eyes. "You're going to tell them you pummeled my ex-boyfriend, but you won't even tell them about us?"

"I was being sarcastic," I admit.

"Yeah, of course you were."

"Don't start with me about the boys, Phoebe. You know the deal."

She scoffs.

"Want to explain that reaction of yours?" I demand.

She glares at me. "The deal. The deal for what purpose?"

I groan. "You know what the deal is. I don't want my boys hurt."

She challenges, with disgust in her tone, "Right, so you can toss me aside when my employment is up, correct?"

"I didn't say that."

"No? Are you sure about that? Because from where I'm sitting, that's what it feels like," she claims.

"So, that's all you're thinking about every day?" I question.

She stays quiet.

"You really don't know anything about me, do you?"

She glances out the window, answering, "I guess not."

I add, "Well, that's too bad. I thought I've been trying to show you who I am."

"Yeah, well, whoIam must not be good enough for you," she replies.

Frustrated, I rub my hands over my face. "Why would you say that?"

Her voice grows louder. "Really, Alexander? Do I have to spell everything out for you?"

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