Page 5 of The Bargain

“I didn’t want you to think I was using you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Please. You’re probably the most selfless person there is. Raoul has been working there for over twenty years. Now let me make you a hot chocolate with whipped cream and extra marshmallows”

“Thank you.” I beamed. When I was with Dee, I felt like a kid again. It felt nice; her maternal vibe was like a balm on my weary heart and I loved her like my own blood.

“Oh, the white bag on the console is for you,” She called from the kitchen

“Dee…”

“It’s not from me. Tasha dropped off my cosmetic order earlier and brought that bag for you. She said your marketing plan was working well.”

Looking in the bag, I found a bottle of Victoria’s Secret body lotion, numerous tubes of lipsticks, nail polish, and a few other frivolity items. I would not be able to afford any of it if it wasn’t for Tasha and her store. I usually traded my two years of college experience in Marketing for free goods.

“You deserve it, you know,” she said, coming back with the hot chocolate and two pieces of pie. “You’re good at it. Since you started helping me, my clientele has increased by fifty percent.”

I shrugged. “It’s nothing special.”

“Yes, it is, and you should finish your degree or get a better job.”

I sighed. “Denny understands Timmy’s situation. He knows that sometimes I might not be able to come in and on zero notice, but maybe after Timmy is better, I’ll go back to school.”

“You know, Raoul and I’ve talked about it and you only have a year left. We could -”

I raised my hand. “No, absolutely not! Never.” I shook my head. “You keep your hard-earned money. Please, don’t. It would break my heart.”

She sighed. “At least stay for dinner. I made jambalaya.”

I lit up. Dee was originally from Louisiana; her Cajun food was out of this world.

“You don’t have to ask twice!”

Once Timmy fell asleep after dinner, she painted my nails a vibrant red. I sighed with contentment on my way back to my studio. My belly was full and a sleepy Timmy laid in my arms.

I laid Timmy down for the night and smiled at his peaceful face. Today had started out quite darkly, but it had brightened in ways I hadn’t expected it to.

Maybe things have finally started to turn around, after all.

I was startled awake by a commanding knock on my door. I growled, looking at the clock. It was barely 8:00 a.m. and I had just managed to get Timmy back to sleep less than an hour ago.

Last night had been the first time in twenty-three days that I could sleep the full night through and somebody had to knock at my door. People never came to see me, especially not at that time.

The knocking turned more insistent, louder and louder - loud enough to wake Timmy from his slumber and make him wail in frustration.

“You and me both, kid, you and me both,” I mumbled, picking my nephew up and stumbling to the door, my brain still partially fogged with sleep.

I unlocked the door and froze just as I was about to open it. I realized, almost too late, that this could be one of Opal’s dealers who had finally found me. And then what? These men would have no consideration for a woman and a baby. All they wanted was money. Or something they could trade for money... I shivered at the thought.

“Open the door now, Miss Collins,” the firm, calm voice didn’t sound like any of Opal’s dealers. This voice lacked the unmistakable Philly drawl and none of them would ever call me or Opal ‘Miss’ anything. Our titles usually varied from “dumb bitch” to “fucking crackwhore" or something of that sort. They were always so classy.

I balanced Timmy on my hip and opened the door a sliver. It was just enough to see a man looking down the corridor, giving me a perfect view of his profile: chiseled jaw, long, straight nose, perfectly groomed, short beard, and dark hair in a tapered cut, which looked a bit like Leonardo Dicaprio's haircut in theWolf of Wall Street.I looked down to detail his attire: impeccably shiny, black shoes, fancy, black suit, white shirt, and grey tie. Everything about him screamed money. Lots of it.

I gasped when I met his irritated gaze. Those eyes - they were too unique for it to be a coincidence. I’d seen them in Eddie, Timmy, and now this man. An emerald so vibrant that almost didn't look real. When I'd first seen Eddie, I had thought the color was due to contacts, but then I'd realized that his hands shook too much for that to be the case; he could never put contacts in.

I let go of my hold on the door. He nudged it open, his eyes going straight to Timmy. Some of his previous irritation faded, but his air of authority still very much suffocated me, his face was still grim.

“Opal Collins, I need to talk to you,” he announced with a deep, cold voice. It was not an option, but an order. His demeanor was as commanding as possible. I was certain that this man's orders were never questioned.

“I, umm, yes, but -” I needed to tell him I was not Opal, but as if on cue, Timmy started to cry again.

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