Page 81 of Judgment

Paisley

MADISON STEPS THROUGH the open doors of the elevator and into the large entry of Andre’s penthouse. She lifts one brow at me. “Seems like the dress went over well.”

“Well is relative.” I’m still not entirely sure I’m thrilled about what happened last night.

The part where Andre packed me and my mom up and brought us here at least. The rest I can’t make myself be upset about, even though most of it was confusing as hell.

But I think I’m starting to figure things out. Figure him out.

“Well from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re living in the lap of luxury, with a man who is hot as hell and gives you free rein of his place. Speaking of,” Madison leans to peek toward Andre’s office, “is he here?”

“Not right now. He and Victor went out. Said they had some things to deal with.” Andre didn’t look happy when he left and I caught a peek of him checking the pistol that’s always under his jacket on his way to the elevator, so I’m a little worried I’m going to have to learn real quickly how to get bloodstains out of expensive suits.

But I guess I can Google it.

“So have you looked through all his drawers yet?” Madison wiggles her brows at me. “Checked to see what all he’s hiding from you?”

“I don’t really care what he’s hiding from me.” I’m pretty sure most of the stuff Andre’s hiding involves all sorts of terrible things that would keep me up at night. “I’m just here to make sure I can take care of my mom.”

Mostly.

A small part of me is here because I’ve always loved a challenge, and figuring Andre out is turning into one hell of a challenge.

It started back when Madison and I were kids, when her parents used to watch me at night while my mom worked. She and I used to sit and play video games with her dad. They were both way better than me, so it was impossible for me to gauge my own skills against theirs.

So I started keeping track of my scores, writing down every statistic in a notebook so I could see my progress.

It’s something I still do. I track my tips from Platinum and the diner. Tallying them up at the end of every month to see if I’m making progress.

I’ve always turned everything I do into a challenge for myself, a way to prove I’m moving forward and becoming better.

That my value as a person is increasing so that when I see other people questioning it I can open a book and see it written down. Quantified.

But Andre is a completely different kind of challenge. Working my way under that hard shell has been an insanely tedious process, but once I realized it was there I knew I had to figure out what was inside.

“Well I bet your mom loves it here.” Madison loops her arm in mine and we begin walking through the den. “I’m not as thrilled. I missed you last night. Work was so freaking boring.”

I didn’t have to work my Thursday night shift at Platinum since Vi has a mandatory forty-eight-hour break for anyone who’s been manhandled at work. It came with a flat rate payment and provided me the opportunity to jump into my plan to get the first half of the money Andre promised me up front, so I wasn’t too upset about it.

“I’ll be there tomorrow night.” I lean toward Madison as we move down the hall. “Serving, not dancing. That’s definitely not going to be a skill that I will ever possess.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure of that. I don’t think I’m going to be seeing you at Platinum ever again.” Madison peeks into Andre’s office as we pass. “He’s definitely not going to let you come back.”

“That’s not true. We already talked about it and Andre said I can keep both of my jobs.”

“And you believed him?” Madison snorts. “No offense, Pais, but I think you’ve got your blinders on with this guy. You’re seeing him for something he’s not.”

“I know what he is.” I might not have seen it firsthand, but I can imagine. “But I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want me up his ass all the time. I don’t think he gives a shit if I leave and go to work.”

Of course if I leave, my mother will be here alone, but that’s nothing new. She’s used to being alone while I work so I’m sure she won’t bother Andre at all. He might not even remember she’s there.

I pull Madison into the guest room my mother now occupies and stop short. A strange woman is standing beside my mom taking her blood pressure. The woman gives me a quick smile before turning back to my mother. “One hundred and fourteen over ninety-three. Not too bad, Miss Rhonda.”

My mom smiles at her. “Better than it was earlier.”

The woman picks up a giant plastic mug with a lid and an accordion straw from beside my mother’s bed and passes it off. “I think you were just dehydrated. Keep drinking so it doesn’t happen again.”

I step forward, knowing there’s a fine line between drinking too much and too little. “Just be careful. I have to go to work in a little bit and I won’t be here to help you to the bathroom.”

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