Page 14 of How to Prevent a Fumble

“How are your parents?” he asks after a moment, grabbing his cup of cold coffee and taking a sip. He winces, but instead of getting up and leaving me here unsupervised for even a second, he simply takes another sip, his eyes locked on mine.

“They’re fine as always. Mom is trying real hard to get my dad to buy a farm over there.”

Eduardo’s eyebrow raises. “And have you, I don’t know, encouraged this lately?”

My eyes narrow, my arms crossing over my chest.

“I may have sent her some money for her birthday.”

“How much, Leo?”

“Why does it matter?”

“Because your father is ripping his hair out. We’ve been friends for decades. I’ve never seen the man so stressed.”

“I gave her enough.”

“Enough for a cow,” he deadpans.

“Yes, enough for a cow. What else would I have bought for her?”

“Earrings?”

I scoff. “Mom has never been an earring person. You should know that, Mr. I’ve-known-them-for-decades.”

Just as he’s opening his mouth to tell me off, there’s a knock on the door, and I turn to find Briar and another woman standing behind it.

Briar, pretty as always, wears a deep blue suit that seems to hug every single curve she has, paired with a pair of white sneakers, of all things. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that woman in a pair of heels.

Her friend hangs a little behindher, but her confidence fills the room. While Briar has quiet confidence that sneaks up on you and freezes you in your spot, I can tell just from the way she walks in that her friend isn’t someone to be fucked with.

Her deep eyes meet mine, immediately narrowing. Something about her is familiar, but I can’t place it. Her dark umber skin seems to sparkle under the terrible, flickering overhead light as she tosses her braids over her shoulder.

“Thank you for meeting us, Ms. Martin,” Eduardo says, getting out of his chair to extend his hand.

“Anything for Ms. Crosby,” Izara says with a smile before her eyes flicker back to mine, shooting me a glare.

I’m not sure what I did, but I’m sure I deserve it.

“You guys ready to go over the contract?” Eduardo asks, rubbing the stubble on his chin as he sits, attempting to pull himself back to his desk about three times before getting back up, adjusting his chair, and trying again.

“Yeah, Ms. Crosby has places to be,” Izara says, sitting at the end of the desk with Briar. Her eyes are on me, her eyes steely. I draw back, wondering what changed in the last few days to make her look like she wants to stab me.

“Here’s the contract we made up,” Eduardo tells them, handing over the manilla folder.

Without a word, Izara opens it, flipping through pages with her perfectly polished nails, her eyes flickering to mine every couple of seconds as if she’s waiting for me to get up and run.

“What’s this about living arrangements?” Izara asks, her eyebrow raised at the same time as Briar flinches a little.

“Leo and I discussed me possibly living there for a little while. Not all the time. I still have my place. I just think it may be safer sometimes.”

Izara’s face stays impassive, her lips pursing as her shoulders square. “Interesting,” she says under her breath.

Twenty minutes later, after all questions were answered, we’re almost done.

“And pay?” Izara asks, looking at me directly.

“Five thousand dollars a week,” I tell her carefully, biting my bottom lip. This is what I’ve been nervous for.

---