Page 22 of The Disputed Legacy
Over the next week, every night, Oscar waited to see Saul and invited him to sit with him. I noticed that Saul never came at the same time, and it made me wonder what his job was. Oscarbluntly interrogated him each time—except for the one night of the week where the neighbors offered to watch him at our building—and Saul was selective about what he told him.
He didn’t dodge any questions Oscar asked him, but at the same time, he didn’t give him anything I’d want to know.
We now knew that Saul’s favorite color was blue. That he was thirty-six. That he first lost a tooth when he was six. That he liked summer more than winter. That his worst mistake was lying to his father. That he had never been on a horse but he had gone sky-diving before. That he liked to read but disliked audiobooks.
Oscar’s version of getting to know someone was different from the critical things I wanted to know. Like where he lived, what he did. If he was married or had tendencies that would be a red flag for me.
No. None of that would matter, either.I shook my head as I bussed a table on another night when Oscar was at home with the married couple watching him.
I had no business letting myself get more and more curious about Saul because it wouldn’t make a difference. It wasn’t as though I could let him into my life. To date him. Or anything. I had to focus on keeping Oscar safe, no matter what, and being alone was smart.
Toward the end of my shift, when I’d close and not have to worry about keeping Oscar here too late since he’d be sleeping on the neighbor’s couch until I got home, I realized that Saul hadn’t shown up. We’d been busier than usual with Irene calling off sick, so I supposed I didn’t have the idle time to look at when Saul could’ve appeared.
I refused to let it bother me. Looking back down at the stack of dishes, I scolded myself for getting used to Saul being around at all, even from a distance.
No men, Willow.
No dating.
No boyfriends.
He’s probably lost interest and is gone.
And that’s got to be for the best.
A fork clattered to the floor, slipping out between plates I’d stacked, and I bent over to retrieve it. I wasn’t fast enough, though.
Saul was there, stooping to grab it and hand it to me, smiling at me like it might’ve been the first time he’d done that all day.
I reared back as soon as I got a good look at his face.
“Shit.” Blood trickled from a small cut on his cheek. “Are you okay?”
“Oh.” He raised his hand to the injury. “Yeah. Yeah. I’m fine.”
I furrowed my brow, watching him wipe the drop of red away. Now that he was here, larger than life as usual, I took in how disheveled he looked. Like he’d been rushing. Or doing something to get his suit messed up. A strange intensity burned in his eyes as he stared at me, making me wonder just how much it mattered to him that he could stalk me here.
“Where’s…?” He looked around. “Where’s Oscar?”
Hearing him askthatbothered me. Anyone wanting to know about my son’s whereabouts put me on edge. “Not here,” I replied curtly.
“Oh. He was going to show me his math grade.” He smiled and shrugged. “Tomorrow, then.”
“He got an A,” I reported, watching him curiously as I led the way toward the counter.
“I knew he would.” He sat, heaving out a deep breath as he locked his eyes on me.
That made me more bristly. Anyone claiming toknowmy son was a liar. It was my job to hide and shelter him so he’d be safe. “You don’t know him,” I argued lightly. “And you don’t know me.”
“I would like to,” he said, unbothered by my tone.
“Why?” I scribbled his order down, but he caught my hand. Seeing his longer, tanned fingers over my paler flesh stunned me. He was so much bigger, stronger, more rugged and rough. The contrast was almost erotic, but the second that idea came to my mind, I flinched and tugged my hand away. Burned by his touch, that simple contact of his skin touching mine, I frowned.
“Can I let you in on a secret?”
I waited, too startled by how much his simple touch could feel like fire.
“I hate chicken BLTs.”
