Page 139 of Somebody's Watching Me
“We have no interest in torturing Lenora,” Simone countered. “And since you’ve missed your ride with Evie and Samuel, your father has rescheduled the jet to leave in one hour. You should pack.”
“I missed my ride because you two waved a guitar in my son’s face and asked him to play,” Selah grumbled, stalking back down the hall. “That thing is staying here.”
“Like hell it is,” Simone muttered, bobbing her head in time with Xavier’s version of a song. “This is also payback for when he signed up to play the trumpet in high school. Music is not your brother’s forte.”
“I don’t think it’s Xavier’s forte either,” Jamison said, unable to peel her eyes from the scene. Harper and Theo were whipping their hair around in circles, while her father—the biggest child of them all—clapped and cheered. “This is evil.”
“No, this is what happens when y’all make plans behind our backs,” Simone replied sweetly. “And you better hurry. Samuel and Evie dropped the girls off over an hour ago.”
The song ended, and Theo spotted them watching. Dropping the microphone, it squealed in denial as she ran over on her tiptoes. “Hurry!” She jumped in place, her tutu fluttering every which way while the dozen or so strands of pearls around her neck smacked together. “Yous gonna miss the penis!”
“That’s a real problem I’ve been having lately.” Jamison kissed the top of her head. “But keep rocking out, okay? The louder, the better.”
Theo giggled and hopped like a bunny back to her sister and cousin.
“My meeting starts in a minute,” her father said as the kids geared up for another performance. “I’ve got time for one more song.”
“Shouldn’t you get dressed?” Jamison asked.
“Nah.” Stretching out in his black athletic pants and plain white T-shirt, he grinned. “Taylor will be here soon, and she’s the only one who will really see me.”
Xavier struck another random chord, and Harper howled, attempting to match the tone. They blasted into a second song, this one louder than the first.
“I’m tired of seeing that woman,” Simone said to Jamison when the noise level rose high enough so others wouldn’t hear.
“I’ve been ordered to handle it, and I plan to.”
“Ordered by who?”
“Hillary.”
Simone grunted. “If Taylor isn’t pretending, she’s no match for you, but if she is, that woman might bite back with more force than you’re expecting.”
“Pretending?”
Patting her cheek, Simone smiled softly. “You know how they say mothers have eyes in the back of their heads? Well, we also have bullshit meters, and I have a feeling Taylor is full of it.”
It felt good to laugh. “You are so mean.”
“That’s what they tell me.” Simone gave a wave, heading into the parlor to sit and watch the show. “Liam is in the kitchen.”
Blowing out a breath to steady herself, Jamison made her way to the kitchen. If he were cold, and shut off, she could push through, but if he became agitated again—on today of all days—she might freak out.
At least she’d had the forethought to take something to calm her nerves. Shortly after their breakup, her doctor prescribed medication after she showed signs of being noticeably anxious all the time. Takingthem had felt like a cop out, and at first, she refused, but when the stretch of days got harder without Liam around, she thought using them might not be such a bad idea. Only as needed.
And today was anas neededkind of day.
Dressed in slacks, and a dark blue collared button-up shirt, Liam had his back to her when she entered. He looked damn good.
“Morning,” she mumbled.
“Good morning.”
No sarcasm. No anger. Just a regulargood morningas if he hadn’t left her in ruins all night.
She noticed the gun secured in his shoulder holster. “Are we really going to the appointment armed?”
“I don’t plan to go in.” He glanced back over his shoulder at her. “Holden will cover the building, and I’ll take the parking lot.”
