“If you want Nate to stick around and not run screaming, I’d save the details of this story for a later date. Change. Go give him his house back. Have your fuckbuddy and come back. Tomorrow is another day.”
CHAPTER 9
Beth’s right. I did a good thing, but there’s no way to show up on Nate’s doorstep and hand him the deed to his house. I’m sure that’s why Mr. Ferro expected me to keep the property. He didn’t think I would actually take Nate’s house. I’m not that kind of person. Although Mr. Ferro assumed I'd wandered off from house arrest, so who the hell knows what he was thinking. The man doesn’t see things the way normal people do. He’s had a lifetime of piss-poor choices and a mattress full of money to make his problems disappear.
I decide the best way to give Nate the deed is to mail it to him. I walk to the post office on campus and send it certified mail, so he has to sign for it. I don’t include a not
e or any explanation for the contents of the envelope. It’s just the document and nothing else. That’s all that matters.
Another week rolls by, and my weird life finally finds its groove. I attend my classes, exercise with Carter—freaking Fitbit—then bounce between Beth and Emily in my free time. Josh avoids me, and I'm curious about what he did, but decide not to look it up. His past is coloring his future. I don’t want it to skew my opinion of him. The guy is all right, despite radiating false bravado like a Chihuahua. That aside, I think he’s a good man.
When modeling night rolls around again, no one tries to stop me. Maybe they’ve finally stuffed their judgments into their mental cupboards and locked the doors. I arrive about half an hour early with a Monster in my hand, chugging it back as fast as I can.
Dr. Jax is walking down the hall in his customary tweed jacket and old man pants. “Miss Hill.” He inclines his head at me respectfully and slows.
“Hi, Dr. Jax.”
He clasps his wrists in front of him and smiles at me, looking yet again like Santa. I’m leery of that smile. I know there’s a massive manipulator hiding beneath that snowy white beard. “You’re still modeling.”
“Yes.”
“Interesting. Do you feel you have something to prove?”
“Not anymore.” Isn’t that the truth? I’m doing what I want from now on. Nothing works out the way I plan, so I’m officially pantsing the rest of my life. Liberation is nature’s medicine.
“That’s good to hear. You’re a promising student, and I think you’d benefit much more from the class by sitting on the other side. After tonight, I’d like you to go back to drawing.”
“But—” I open my mouth, ready to protest.
He cuts me off, “I know you need the job. Positions within the department are difficult to find. However, I know the owner of a certain gallery downtown. It pays well and would better utilize your time and skill set. Should I tell him you'll accept?”
“Apparently so.” My face falls, and I know I’m frowning. There are complications—schedules to manage, my driving a bus that will eat an entire week's pay in gas by driving that far, not to mention traveling with the raccoon is unpredictable. I can’t tell him any of that, so I just nod and smile.
A puzzled look crosses his wrinkled face. “Miss Hill, aren’t you going to ask what you’ll be doing?”
“It doesn’t matter, does it? I need a job, so the answer is yes.”
He watches me for a moment, pressing together and releasing his lips repetitively, wiggling the white hair on his upper lip like a caterpillar. He finally drops his hands and sighs. “You have steel in your spine and tremendous resolve when required. Each opportunity is just that—a chance, a stepping-stone to what may come in the future. Remember that.” He walks away without further comment.
I’m not sure what just happened, but I think my apathy annoyed him. The truth is, it’s not indifference at all. I’m in overload. My head is ready to blow up. Change invites problems—I already have more of those than I can handle.
I slump into the art room, plunk my bag down on a desk, and flip on the lights. While I’m digging through the cabinets looking for the drape, Nate walks in.
“Hi, Kerry.” He acts like nothing happened between us.
“Hey.” Relationships suck. How did this happen? I wasn’t supposed to see him again, but then, yeah, of course, I see him all the time because he works here. I clear my throat and ask, “How’ve you been?”
He’s wearing a tight-fitting white t-shirt. He shucked his blue sweater and placed it on a desk while he moves around the chaise and repositions everything in the set for the class. As he drags the chaise into place, the corner of his mouth tips up and he glances at me. “Good. The weirdest thing happened. I was packing after the incident with the—well, you were there, so you know—and two days later I get a letter in the mail with the deed to the house.” He straightens and watches me, a smile dancing on his lips.
“Wow, really?” I resist the urge to turn away. I’m not a good liar, and this guy hates being told anything but the absolute truth. I can’t blame him.
“Yeah. It was strange. One day Ferro was tossing me out on my ass, and the next he’s handing over the house, no strings attached.” As his blue gaze locks with mine, goose bumps break out on my arms and my stomach flips.
Does he know? He can’t possibly realize my involvement. Rubbing my arms, I turn away, tossing the drape over my shoulder and heading toward my changing area. “With the Ferros, there are always strings attached.” I should know—I’m the one who'll get strung up.
“That’s what I thought. The best I can figure is that someone twisted Ferro’s arm because legally he didn’t have to do a damn thing. So I started digging around and found some interesting information.”
Shit. He already found out. I tug my shirt over my head and twist the fabric in my hands as I stand behind the cabinet. Nate’s voice comes closer as he speaks, and he’s standing on the other side.