Page 130 of Flaunt
“A walk? What’s a walk going to do? I’m panicking over here, Mother.”
She laughs. “Come on. A walk will help you think. Promise. But first put Foxx’s key down. The boy has been losing them left and right.”
I get up and follow her outside. “You better be right about this.”
“Am I ever wrong, Sparkles?”
I groan as the door shuts behind us.
27
Sara
“It’s notbad,”I say, taking in the mint-green walls and black-trimmed living room. “Beggars can’t be choosers, I guess.”
My stomach growls, reminding me that I haven’t eaten since a bagel at breakfast. I was planning on making Banks the pasta dish we saw on television last night. I even figured out how to substitute ground beef for chicken since Banks is still on asave the chickenscampaign. But now that’s out, and I have no food here, so I guess it’ll be fast food.
Yuck.
My arms are scratched from carrying some of the boxes from my car to the little garage attached to the apartment. It barely fits my car, and my car isn’t the biggest thing ever made. So with the boxes in there—because I don’t want to take my things inside until I clean it, despite Maddox telling me they had it professionally detailed—my car won’t fit.Fun times.
Hey, at least I have a place of my own again.
My phone buzzes on the countertop in the kitchen. I race to it, hoping it’s Banks.Please be him.
I look at the screen and my spirits sink.
The Businessman: Hey, I haven’t been ignoring you. I got sent to New York for a business meeting and just got back to town. Wanna meet up?
My stomach churns.Bile tints my mouth.
A few weeks ago, I would’ve hopped into my car and said,“See ya in twenty.”But now, that just feels … wrong.
“You don’t have a clue what you’re doing. Hell, Sara, you’re a child of the streets. Your father had given up on you well before he met me.”
I look at his name again and feel … nothing.“It’s not you I want, Brock. I’m taken.”
Me: Take care of yourself, Brock. Our situation isn’t working for me anymore.
The Businessman: No worries. Take care. Let me know if you ever need anything—sexually or otherwise.
I grin sadly.He’s probably not a bad guy.I hit the block button.
The apartment is a living room, eat-in kitchen, one bed, and one bath. It’s the size of Banks’s living room and kitchen combined. Despite the cozy nature of the place, it feels cold. Vacant. Lonely.
“Hello, loneliness, my old friend,” I say, humming the line like it’s a song lyric. “What do I do first? Probably should finish unloading the car so I can get some food.” I pause. “And an air mattress.”
Joy.
I grab my car keys off the counter and head for the door. As soon as I twist the handle, someone knocks on the other side.
A shock of adrenaline hits me hard, and I yank the door open faster than I should. I don’t know the neighbors or if the guy who just vacated this place is pissed.Clearly, I’m irrational.
I gasp softly as my gaze settles on Damaris Carmichael. Her face is warm, motherly, as she stands on my tiny stoop with bags in her hands.
“Damaris?” I ask, puzzled. “What are you doing here?”
“I brought you dinner. I didn’t figure you had time to get something good today, so I whipped up some sub sandwiches and a salad. I hope that’s okay. I’m not sure what you like and I didn’t know if you’d have a way to heat things.”
