Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 63638 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63638 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
The nausea never eased up, and I’d say Sergei’s offer somehow made it worse. All I want is to sit on my couch with some trashy television on in the background and forget what a strange day it was.
My phone buzzes in my lap, and I groan, not ready for my sliver of peace to shatter. But when I see Mom flash across the screen, I don’t hesitate to answer.
“Hey, Mama,” I answer, trying to infuse some cheer into my voice.
“Hi, sweetheart,” she says with a sigh, and immediately I know something’s wrong. “Do you have a minute?”
“Of course. What’s going on?”
“It’s the roof,” she finally says after a long pause. “Your dad and I were up there this afternoon, patching the leak by the attic vent again. But there are more cracks now. The water’s starting to come through to the ceiling in the hallway.”
I sit up straighter, anxiety curling tight in my gut. “Is it bad?” I ask, imagining their roof caving in on them.
“It’s getting worse. We’ve been trying to manage it, but between the animals finding their way in and the mold smell in the upstairs bedrooms…” she trails off with another sigh. “It’s just going to cost a lot of money that we don’t have.”
I close my eyes and rest my forehead against my knuckles. I don’t even have to ask how much. A roof replacement is expensive. Probably tens of thousands of dollars. I know they don’t have that kind of savings tucked away.
“I just don’t know how we’re going to afford it,” she says softly, more to herself than me.
My heart breaks a little at the tremble in her voice. My mom is the strongest woman I know, but the last few years have knocked her down. It’s been hard to see how much she and my dad have had to struggle when they’re so close to retirement.
“Don’t stress,” I say, swallowing hard. “We’ll figure it out.”
“We already took out a loan for the plumbing last year,” she says absently. “Anyway, I’m sorry to dump this on you. You’ve got enough on your plate right now.”
She has no idea just how much I do have on my plate right now. But I know she called me about this because she didn’t know who else to talk to. She’s scared.
I glance down at my stomach. I’m scared too, and when the time is right, I’ll have to tell her everything. Then Sergei’s voice drifts back into my head. “You’ll have your own room, full run of the house, anything you need.”
And two million dollars. More money than I could ever know what to do with. An offer that sounds way too good, so there must be something sinister behind it. And yet, I’m not really in a position to turn it down.
“I’ve got it,” I say suddenly, cutting off my mom’s worried ramble.
There’s a beat of silence.
”What?”
“The roof. I’ll cover it. Don’t worry about the cost.”
“Nicole—” she starts, her voice distressed.
“I’m serious,” I cut her off, my mind now completely made up. “I’ll get you the money by next week. Get the repairs scheduled.”
She’s silent for a long moment, and then she says very softly, “Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” I say, even though my hands are trembling. “I’ve got it covered.”
We say our goodnights, and I hang up. The moment the line goes dead, I stare down at my phone, heart thudding hard in my chest. Am I really about to do this? I turn the TV off and don’t give myself a chance to overthink it. I scroll to Sergei’s number and hit call before I can lose my nerve.
He answers on the second ring. “Nicole.” He sounds utterly at ease.
So he did keep my number.
“Hey,” I breathe. “Is now a bad time?”
“No,” he replies quickly. “Not at all. Have you thought more about my offer?”
“Yes,” I answer breathlessly.
There’s a charged silence on the line.
“Yes?” he asks, and I realize my yes can be misinterpreted.
“When can I start?” I ask, casting out all doubt.
“I can make arrangements whenever you’re ready,” he says, confidence threading through every syllable. “We can get it all done by the end of the week if you can be ready that quickly.”
“Okay,” I squeak, gripping the edge of the couch cushion, curling my fingers into the fabric.
“I’m glad you said yes,” he murmurs, igniting a heat inside of me.
That same dizzy swirl that sparked the first night we texted surges through me now. I nod, even though he can’t see me. As soon as the call ends, I sit there staring at the dark TV screen, my reflection staring back, wide-eyed and unsure. I’ve just agreed to move into a stranger’s home. A very rich, very intense, very enigmatic stranger, who also happens to be the father of my secret child.