Frowning as she stared at the business card in her hand, Grace meandered backstage to gather the rest of her things and head home with Jimmy, her co-star and roommate.

“What’s with the face, hon?” he asked, sitting at his dressing table as she passed by.

“I just had the weirdest conversation,” she muttered. “I’m not sure what to think of it.”

Jimmy brushed his long black hair from his face and braided it behind him. “Care to share with the class or do you want me to play psychic?” he teased with pursed lips. “Graceland, I’m talking to you.”

She glared at him and shoved the card back in her pocket. “I hate that name.”

“It’s your name, hon. Just using it so you don’t forget.”

Grace rolled her eyes and gathered up her makeup and brushes to put in her tote. Of all the dads she had to get stuck with, she had one with a hard-on for Elvis Presley, and what did he do? He named his only kid after the man’s home.

“If I ever see my dad again, I’m going to deck him on principle,” she muttered, cramming the last of her things in her tote. “What do you want for dinner tonight? I’m buying.”

Jimmy’s blue eyes darkened. “Like hell you are. I saw your mom at the apartment yesterday.”

Grace shrugged. “It’s fine, you bought last time. Besides, we’re getting our last checks tonight…Why are you glaring like that?”

“Terrance is withholding our last check,” Jimmy snapped. “Said it has something to do with—Grace, wait! You know what he’s like!”

“Yeah, and he should know what I’m like,” she spat, storming through the backstage area to the small office for directors. Terrance, the man currently running their tiny company, was on the phone, cackling loudly with someone when she barged into the room. “Terrance, why the hell aren’t you paying us?”

“I’m on the phone, Grace. Can’t you see that?” he asked tightly.

She glared at his arrogant face, reached forward, yanked the phone from him, and told the person on the other end Terrance would call them back. As she clicked it off, Terrance’s face turned three shades of red.

“Do you even know who that was?” he raged.

“No, and I don’t care. Why aren’t you paying your actors?” she demanded. “This is the second time in three weeks, Terrance. I need my money.”

“You will get paid when I get paid,” he told her. “And since I haven’t been yet, you’ll have to wait in line. Besides, it’s not like you got rave reviews for this damn play.”

“That’s not my fault,” she argued. “I don’t pick the plays.”

He laughed mockingly. “No? But you sure as hell could attempt to act better.”

Grace fumed, ready to rip him a new one when Jimmy rushed in behind her. “It’s fine, Terrance, just don’t keep us waiting like last time,” Jimmy warned. “Come on, Grace, let’s go.”

She wanted to argue more, but Jimmy was twice her size and picked her up, turned her around, and gently shoved her towards the dressing room. He told her to keep it together until they got back to their place, then she could let loose and curse all she wanted, but he knew as well as she did she still needed Terrance.

The ride home in Jimmy’s beat-up old Toyota was silent. She hadn’t been sure she’d go to the meeting tomorrow morning with Chase, but since Terrance was withholding their pay again, she might not have another choice. She needed the money desperately and soon.

“So,” Jimmy asked after they walked inside their tiny, one-bedroom apartment and dumped his bag on the floor. “Pizza or Chinese food?”

“How about both?” she mumbled, plopping down on the couch that served as Jimmy’s bed.

“If you don’t care about your shape anymore, then both it is,” he said with a laugh and pulled out his cell to order. “You going to tell me about that guy?”

She said she would once he ordered food. While she waited, she flipped Chase Valentine’s business card over and over in her fingers, playing out what her part would be this weekend. A fiancée. She’d been a fiancée plenty of times in plays. Wives, too, but this was real life and not the stage. If she messed up, screwed up a line, an action, it wouldn’t be in front of a paying audience but in front of one man and whomever he was trying to convince.

Jimmy sat on the opposite end of the couch, picking her legs up to lay in his lap, and chuckled. “What’s with the long face?”

Grace, one arm flung over her head, groaned as she held out the business card to him. “I may have found a solution to Mom’s problems.”

“Chase Valentine, the third, of C.V. Tectonics? This is the guy you met with?”

“Yeah, why?”

“He’s the billionaire Theodore hired to do the restoration project of the theater district,” he told her with a whistle. “Damn, if he batted for the same team, I’d be all over him. Why did he want to meet with you?”

Grace sat up. “Billionaire, with a b?”

“Last I checked.”

“Damn,” she grumbled and let her head fall back against the couch arm. “Should’ve asked for more money.”

Jimmy asked her again what she was talking about, so she told him exactly what Chase Valentine was asking her to do for him. As she explained, the whole idea seemed ridiculous, even the amount of money he offered to pay her for it. Twenty thousand for a weekend. She was lucky if she brought in that much in a year, and he was going to hand her a check for only three days?

“You said yes, right?” Jimmy asked. “I mean, that would be more than enough to take care of the loan. Grace, you’d actually be free of all this shit.”

“Until the next time Mom screws up,” she sighed. “I don’t know about this.”

Jimmy threw her feet off his lap so hard she nearly rolled off the couch. “You listen to me, girlie, you’re going to take this man’s offer because you’re running out of options,” he told her, angrier than she’d ever seen him before. “You will pay off your mom’s damn debt and you will kick her to the curb—for good. I’m not going to watch you get dragged down with her. Not again.”

Grace shifted so she sat with her feet curled up under herself. He made everything sound so simple. Take the money and run with it. Get out of the city and find a life somewhere else. But real life wasn’t that easy, and this wasn’t a play. This was her life, and somewhere along the way, she had forgotten her part in it.

Jimmy patted her leg, and a few minutes later, a knock sounded at the door. Their food had arrived, but the last thing Grace wanted to do was eat. She booted up the old Xbox they’d managed to keep running all these years, put in their favorite co-op shooting game, and settled in for a night of blowing things apart.

In the morning, she’d go talk to this Valentine guy and maybe, just maybe, suck it up and take the money before he changed his mind.

* * *

Grace spent half the morning trying to find something decent to wear. She wanted to go wearing jeans and a t-shirt, but Jimmy threw a fit and made her change into the only dress she owned that still looked decent with her one pair of heels. The dress hugged her curves and pushed her boobs up –the black was slimming– and the red shoes popped and gave her a few extra inches. She’d complained, but Jimmy handed her purse to her and shoved her out the door before she could change.

Now, she sat outside Mister Bigwig’s office, waiting to see him.

Her leg shook as she smoothed down her dress again and again, knowing she didn’t look anything like the high class women walking around this office. She wasn’t sure if they were actually staring or if it was her imagination in overdrive, but sitting there was driving her crazy. Two women wearing clothes she knew she’d never be able to afford with leather pumps and perfectly applied makeup saw her multiple ear piercings and single nose piercing, and raised their brows, whispering to each other.

“Yeah? It’s not high school ladies,” she muttered loud enough for them to hear. “Want to see my tattoo? Bet that’d give you a few gray hairs.”

“Is that right? And what might it do to me?” a deep masculine voice she recognized said behind her. “Where’s your tattoo?”

Slowly, Grace stood and cleared her throat, turning to find Chase leaning in the doorway to his office. His suit was tailored to fit his body perfectly, nearly seven feet of it, and his hair hung loose to his shoulders. On most guys, she would’ve thought it looked terrible, but on him, it caused butterflies to flit around her stomach. The muscles flexing under his suit jacket made it even harder to keep herself from drooling, but the way those green eyes settled solidly on hers almost caused her to trip over her feet.

“Show me yours, and I’ll show you mine,” she said with a shy smile. I doubt you have any, she thought, trying to get her focus back on track. You can check him out later. Just get through this first.

“Hmm, perhaps another time when my employees won’t have heart attacks over them. Please, come into my office,” he said and stepped aside so she could pass him.

Grace sauntered past his body, trying to ignore the heat she felt, and strode into his massive office. “Holy crap,” she whispered and stopped to stare at the space. “You work here? And why didn’t you tell me you were the guy in charge of all the theater restoration stuff last night?”

He tugged at something around his neck and walked behind his desk to sit down. “Didn’t seem important. Please, have a seat.”

She nodded, but her eyes couldn’t stop looking out the floor to ceiling windows behind him. The view of Seattle was spectacular, and she could see all the way out to the bay. When she turned in the other direction, she could just make out Mt. Rainier in the distance and smiled at the sight. She’d lived in the city all her life but she’d never gone. Always too busy working her ass off to make it by.

“Grace? Did you hear me?”

Her face warming, she turned to find Chase watching her with a raised brow, his fingers tapping on his desk. “No, sorry, I was admiring the view.”

“Yes, it’s quite stunning. My grandfather wanted to see the best parts of his home when he built this company,” Chase grinned. “That old man always got what he wanted, and so did my father.”

“And you?” she asked. “I’m sure you’ve always managed to get your way.”

His face closed off quickly, and he straightened in his seat. “Yes, well, that’s a discussion for another time. I would like to go over the terms for our arrangement.” He shuffled some papers on his desk, and when his gaze lingered on hers a moment longer than necessary, Grace readjusted her legs, unable to look away. “Right, the contract.”

“Contract,” she repeated and tucked her curls behind her ears. What is wrong with you? Get it together! He’s just a very attractive man and you haven’t been laid ever! She kicked herself mentally. There was no reason for Chase to know that tidbit of information. She was only acting as his fiancée. She wasn’t actually going to be her.

Chase split the papers and gave half for her to look over. “Basically, I will send my limo for you Friday afternoon to take us to the docks, from where we’ll leave on a weekend cruise with my parents and close friends and family on my father’s yacht,” he explained. “Your part is to be my fiancée. There’s information in there for you to know on the off-chance you’re cornered and bombarded with questions.”

She nodded, flipping through the pages. “Just like memorizing backstory for a play.”

“Precisely. It’s a two-night cruise, then we’re back on dry land, and that’s it,” he finished quietly. “Really, you’re going to be there to convince my parents that I’m engaged again so they don’t harass me about it.”

Grace glanced at him. “Engaged again? What happened to the real fiancée?”

His face closed down even more, and he tugged at the coin between his fingers. “Nothing you need to worry about. It didn’t work out, and that’s the end of it.”

His tone changed so drastically, Grace went on the offensive and slammed the papers down. “Look, if I’m going to play the future Mrs. Valentine, I need to know about your past, Chase. What happens if they ask about her?”

“They won’t.”

“You don’t know that. It’s bad enough you’re lying to these people, but if they catch me in a lie, what do you think will happen?” What had this woman done to him? She wanted to keep pushing, but he suddenly stood from his desk and paced to the windows. “Chase?”

His shoulders sagged, but he didn’t face her. “There are some things you don’t need to know about me, just like I don’t need to know everything about your life. It’s only two nights, Grace, nothing more. After that, we’ll never see each other again, and I don’t feel the need to tell my life’s story to a complete stranger.”

Grace cracked her knuckles nervously and cursed her stupidity for pushing. She needed the money, and that was the end of it. “You’re right, I’m sorry. Won’t bring it up again.”

“Thank you. Now, all your expenses will be paid,” he continued, all business once again.

“Perfect, that sounds perfect,” she murmured quietly, knowing exactly what her bank account currently looked like. Depleted. She wasn’t even sure she had fifty bucks in there because Terrance hadn’t yet paid her for the last few shows.

It didn’t help that the money from the previous check had been sent to the loan shark her mom owed. Grace knew it was only a matter of time before her problems came crashing down around her, burying her alive. They weren’t even her mistakes, but she was paying for them over and over. It would never go away. Even when a man was willing to hand her a chunk of cash, she still doubted there was light at the end of the tunnel.

No matter. Like Chase said, he didn’t need to know everything about her, so from here on out, she’d put on a bright smile and act as if her life wasn’t fraying as she desperately tried to keep it together.

“I know it’s early, but would you like to have lunch with me?” Chase asked, dragging her from her thoughts.

“Lunch? It’s barely ten in the morning,” she said.

“Yes, well, I skipped breakfast. You can sign the papers while we eat,” he said as he walked to his door. “It will give us a chance to get to know what we need to about each other.”

Just not too much, she thought and stepped past him. Lunch with a billionaire who was going to pretend to be her fiancée. This was going to get complicated quickly, and Grace wasn’t sure she was in the right state of mind to handle it.

* * *

Last night, Chase thought he knew what he’d be getting into and what Grace would be like, but the second he spotted her in that clingy black dress and red heels, his sanity slipped. Too many emotions to figure out passed over her face every time she glanced his way, and he wondered if he was even seeing the real Grace Summers in his office. Part of him sensed she was the woman with the sharp tongue, snapping at his employees. He’d seen the looks they gave her when they noticed her various piercings and commended her for shutting them up. Most of the people in this office were stiff, white-collared, and brought in by his father, who believed in tradition above all else.

Grace was anything but that.

He escorted her from his office, down to the lobby, and out the main doors where Dexter had parked the limo. “Good morning, sir,” he said brightly as he opened the back door for Chase and Grace.

“Thank you, Dexter,” he replied and let Grace slide in first. “The usual for lunch, I think.”

“Of course, sir. And who, may I ask, is the lady friend?”

“Just business, Dexter, promise you.” He sat down and settled in his seat, stretching out his long legs before him and grinning at Grace, who was staring wide-eyed at the leather and wood paneled interior of the limo. “Have you never been in a limo before?”

She shook her head and a sheepish smile came over her face. “Ah… no, not exactly.”

“Well then, please, relax and enjoy yourself,” he smirked as his cell rang. “I have to take this.” He frowned at the ID, but she waved his worry away. “This better be good, my friend.”

“When isn’t it with me?” Frankie asked, pretending to be overly offended before diving right into business.

Chase did his best to pay attention, but his focus was torn between the conversation and watching the woman in the back of his limo. She’d kicked off her heels and tucked her feet up beneath her on the seat, something no other woman ever felt comfortable enough to do. She cracked her knuckles, every single finger, before laying her hands in her lap. He wanted to say she was nervous, but he couldn’t tell what was fake and what was real.

The arousal rushing through his body… that was real enough, though, and he shifted, trying to hide any sign of it from showing. During the play, it had been hard not imagining her showing him some of those yoga poses close up, and with her in the limo, wearing a dress showing him every delicious curve, he wondered if he’d gotten himself in way over his head.

“Valentine? You listening to me, man?”

Chase grunted and told Frankie to stop calling him that. Grace shot him a curious look but didn’t speak. “I heard you, but you’re still not saying you’ll have it all in time.”

“Waiting on one last thing, and then we’ll know for sure. How was the play last night?”

“Quite beneficial,” he informed him, letting his imagination wander with images of Grace in his bed.

“How so? Thought you hated plays. Wait, did you get laid last night?”

Chase promised he’d fill him in later and hung up before Frankie could dig any further. He tucked his cell away, and a moment later, Dexter parked the limo outside the local café he frequented almost every day to escape the humdrum of the office.

“Uh, Chase, I don’t think they’re open yet,” Grace said, confused as she slipped her shoes back on with a grimace, and they stepped out onto the sidewalk.

He smirked at her, noticing her hatred of heels, and wondered how she’d get through a high class society party on a yacht all weekend. “They’ll open up for me, don’t worry,” he assured her, and an annoyed look flared in her eyes for a second before it disappeared.

He told Dexter to wait as a man exited the small café. He asked Chase if he were here for a very early lunch, Chase nodded, and he led them inside to a small corner table, away from the windows and door. Grace didn’t look at him as she glanced over the menu and chewed her bottom lip.

“Are you alright?” he asked as the silence stretched on.

“Yes, just wondering what you’ll need to know about me for this weekend.”

The words sounded sincere, but she bit her tongue between her teeth and he knew she was lying. No matter. If she didn’t want to tell him, that was just fine. This was business, nothing else, certainly not a real date.

“Your full name would be a good start, I think,” he told her. “What’s your middle name?”

Her hands tightened on her menu. “Do you really need to know that?”

“Oh, come on, it can’t be any worse than having Valentine as your last name.”

“I’ll bet you it is,” she smirked, that sly grin creeping back onto her face so his gut twisted and hands itched to cup her face so he could kiss her thoroughly. Her lips parted and the smile fell, her cheeks reddening under the intensity of his gaze.

He leaned back and rested his palms flat on the table. “So? What is it?” he asked, the words rough on his tongue.

She mumbled, but he didn’t catch it and asked her to repeat. “I said, Graceland Presley Summers.”

Chase tugged at his ear and swallowed the laugh he wanted to let loose as she buried her face behind her menu. “I’m sorry, but who gave you that name?” he asked, a chuckle escaping his mouth despite his best efforts.

“A drunk dad with an Elvis obsession,” she said tightly. “Done laughing over there, Loki?”

“Loki?” he asked to clarify. “Where did that come from?”

She nodded at his coin. “Well, there’s that, and then you look like a freaking viking,” she said, half laughing.

He tucked the coin beneath his shirt, wondering what else she might have picked up on so easily. “Get that from my dad’s side,” he told her. “They’re all tall like me.”

“And muscular,” she added, and he smirked when her cheeks flushed. “Yeah, so maybe we should order and change the subject from names to something else?”

Chase settled his tall frame back in his chair and perused the menu, pleased she found him attractive. His ego inflated as it always did around women when they flirted with him, but it was never the flirting he had issues with. The idea of going further and letting someone in, however, always tied him up in knots and had him stumbling over his feet like a nervous twit from high school, until all that was left was anger at himself for being such a fool.

They ordered. After the food was delivered to their table, Graceland—he inwardly smiled thinking of her full name—ate as if she hadn’t eaten all morning and maybe the night before. When she caught him watching, she quickly pushed her empty plate aside, avoiding his gaze. She told him her birthday and a little more about her acting career, and he filled her in on the family business. There wasn’t time for her to know all the ins and outs, but he provided enough to give her something to chat about if asked outright. When he brought up his latest project, she beamed and leaned closer.

“I’m excited for that, by the way. Getting to perform in an updated and renovated theater,” she said in a rush, clasping her hands. “Might feel like I’m actually getting somewhere with my life.”

“I watched you last night. You were damn good,” he reminded her. “Why do you stay here?”

All the blazing excitement in her eyes faded in a shot, and she sat back in her chair, fiddling with her napkin. “I think that falls under the category of parts of our lives we don’t talk about.”

Chase wanted to push as she had pushed him earlier. Clearly, she wanted to move up and out of the small theater district, and he already knew she wasn’t used to his lifestyle. Her clothes were faded and older, her makeup simple, and her only jewelry were the silver studs in her ears and nose. Between those few small details and how she asked very quickly last night how much he’d pay her, Chase wondered what type of financial situation she was in.

She’d risk spending a weekend with a man she never met before for twenty thousand dollars. That told him a lot about her financial situation.

“You like Seattle that much?” he asked, fishing for answers.

Her hand tightened around the napkin, and she wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Sure, love it here. Nowhere better than Seattle,” she quipped. “Anything else I need to know about you, Valentine?”

“Don’t ever call me Valentine,” he ordered with a shake of his head. “I hate being called that.”

“Fine, Loki it is,” she shot back and sipped her iced tea.

Chase wasn’t sure what to think of the woman who changed so rapidly from one mood to the other across the table. Which one was the real Graceland? He pulled out the contract again and signed before sliding it across the table to her. He told her he’d have a copy made up by Friday when he saw her again and that she should only pack toiletries.

“I need clothes, Loki,” she said, confused.

“I know, but you’re going to be around people like me all weekend—like the women from my office,” he informed her and pulled out his wallet. “Consider this a bonus.” After he counted out a thousand in hundreds, he handed her the bills, but Graceland didn’t take it. “Grace, its fine. This is part of the job.”

Slowly, she reached out and took the money. “You want me to go shopping?”

“Yes, why? Don’t tell me you’re the one woman in the world who doesn’t like to spend her fiancé’s money,” he teased.

“No, I just… thanks,” she finished lamely and tucked it away in her purse. “I don’t even know where to go to find clothes like that.”

“Clothes, jewelry, maybe a purse or two,” he said. “Dexter will drive you, don’t worry. I have to get back to the office, but he’ll be yours for the rest of the afternoon.”

A smile crossed her lips as they stood to walk to the café door. “Thank you, Chase, really, for the job this weekend,” she told him. “It’s going to be added to my résumé, that’s for damn sure.”

“I don’t think you realize how much you’re helping me,” he told her. “Go ahead with Dexter. I’ll take a cab back to the office.”

Dexter stepped around to the back and opened the door for her. Chase told him to take the lady shopping and ensure she had a good afternoon of it before returning her to her apartment that evening. He stepped back onto the sidewalk and saw Graceland’s excited face before he said he would see her again soon.

“Oh, wait,” he called and asked her for her cell. She handed it over, and he punched in his personal number. “In case you have any more questions.”

“Right, questions about acting like your fiancée,” she said and fluttered her hand by her face. “My, what a lucky woman I am to be hitched to Loki.”

Dexter closed the door and told Chase she was in good hands before he pulled away from the curb. Chase stayed behind, watching until the limo disappeared around a turn. His chest tight, he shoved his hands deep in his pockets and blew out a harsh breath. When his feet finally moved, he repeated to himself over and over again this was a business deal, nothing more. He didn’t need to worry about it going any further, but that woman twisted him up inside. Annoyed him one second and filled him with curiosity the next.

And her body. He couldn’t get over the way her hips swayed when she moved, how her ass looked so touchable when she wore heels. He had, of course, mentioned very briefly there was no need for her to do anything physical with him, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t try to get her in his bed. Spending a night in each other’s arms would make the cruise more enjoyable for him, at least, and he knew the way all the other women acted with him in bed. She would have a good time of it, too. Maybe then, it’d get this lust for her out of his system and he could move on.

Come Friday, he’d be focused on ensuring his parents believed his story and seeing how many yoga positions Graceland could teach him in two nights.

* * *

Grace dropped the bags on the floor of the apartment and giggled as Jimmy asked her where the hell she’d been and how many stores she just robbed.

“Damn, look at these dresses,” he said, pulling out a long red one with slits up the sides and a dip in the back. “This is butter. Where did you get all of this?”

“Bonus for taking the job,” she said, shoving a bag with matching jewelry towards him.

“You sure he’s not gay?” Jimmy asked longingly.

“Not as far as I can tell,” Grace said when someone pounded on their front door.

She froze, her hand shaking. Jimmy shook his head and they waited, but the person knocked louder and yelled, a booted foot bashing against the bottom of the door. It shuddered in the frame, and Jimmy stalked to it, yelling to hang on a second. His hand wrapped around the baseball bat nearby, and he told Grace to stay out of sight and shove the bags away with her. She did so quickly, her blood running cold, and once all was tucked away, Jimmy opened the door.

“Jimmy, my boy, I knew someone was home,” an all too familiar voice called out, and Grace bit her lip on a cry of panic.

“Mickey. What do you want?” Jimmy asked tightly.

“What I always want when I stop by. Where is she?”

“Not home, so get lost.”

Grace held her breath and waited for Mickey to leave, but Jimmy cursed and the other man’s booted feet stomped into the apartment. She pressed herself further into the bedroom, but it was too late to close the door without him seeing.

“Now, Jimmy, you know how much I hate when you lie to me,” Mickey crooned. “I know she’s here. Saw her come home.”

“You have guys watching our place?” Jimmy accused angrily.

“When I think someone’s not going to pay up, yes, I do,” Mickey snapped, all pleasantness gone. “Grace! Where’s my lovely girl at? Come out and talk to me. I won’t bite, at least not yet.”

The last thing she wanted to do was step out there to face him, but she didn’t want Jimmy to take a hit for her again. Taking a shuddering breath to steady her nerves, she stepped out of the bedroom and glared as fiercely as she could at the loan shark.

“Mickey, you could just call, you know,” she snapped.

He leered as he sauntered over and wrapped her in a tight hug until she could barely breathe. “Grace, my favorite client.”

“I’m not your client! Get off of me,” she yelled and shoved herself back. Jimmy moved to her side, the bat in hand just in case. “You’re here because of my mom, not me.”

“Yeah, well, I’d rather deal with you. At least you’re not drunk when we talk.”

Not anymore, she thought, craving a shot in that moment. These days, she settled for wine, only two glasses at most. “I don’t have the money. My boss didn’t pay me.”

“Well, dollface, that’s not my problem. You said you’d have money this week, and you’re already behind again,” Mickey told her. “I’ve been patient with you, but my patience is wearing thin.”

Grace took a step away from the murderous glint in his eyes. “Just wait, alright? I’ll have the money by Monday. Please, just wait until then.”

Mickey shoved his jacket aside, flashing the revolver tucked in his belt. Grace gulped, silently praying he’d listen. “Proof that you’ll have it? I don’t believe your word anymore.”

She hurried to her purse and pulled out the unsigned contract stating the amount. Mickey perused it quickly, nodding when he saw the amount, but when he flipped it back and read the whole front, his gaze darkened and his eyes did a slow look at her body.

“Well, now, I didn’t think you were the kind of gal who turned into an escort.”

“I’m not,” she said heatedly. “There’s no sex involved.”

“And this Chase Valentine knows that, does he?”

“Of course he does,” she said, even though, in the back of her mind, the thought of having sex with Chase didn’t sound unpleasant.

Mickey nodded, but the look on his face said he didn’t believe her. “If you change your mind on that, let me know. We could always use a beauty like you in other aspects of the family business.” He handed the contract back. “Fine then, I’ll expect my payment by Monday. The full twenty thousand. It’ll cover almost all the debt.”

Jimmy cursed, and Grace’s heart sank. “It should cover all of it and then some.”

“You should talk to your mother more,” Mickey said and winked. “I’ll be seeing you both.”

He walked out, and Jimmy locked the door quickly before he set down the baseball bat. Grace hadn’t moved and clutched the contract in her hands like a life preserver. It wasn’t going to save her life. It wasn’t going to get her out of this shitty life she was in because of her mom. What had the woman done now? They’d been close to paying off her gambling debt, and she was building it right back up again.

“I’m never going to get away from him,” she whispered as the reality sunk in.

But Jimmy shook his head and moved to the desk. “No, I’m writing you a check for everything I have to at least get him off your back. It’s not a lot, but you know even twenty thousand won’t be enough.”

“No, that’s all you have,” she argued and rushed to stop him. “I’ll figure something out, Jimmy. I just need time, and this payout will hold him off for a while.”

Jimmy glared but set his checkbook down. “Fine, but you call your mom and you tell her you’re done, Grace. I mean it this time. She’s going to get you killed.”

Grace pictured the revolver in Mickey’s belt and gulped. At least she’d get away for the weekend, and by the time she came back, she’d have a plan to get rid of Mickey and her mom’s problems for good.

After Jimmy went to bed, Grace picked up her cell and did something she usually never did: called her mom to ask what the hell was going on with the loan. When she finally answered, slurring her words, Grace let her have it.

“Mom, what the hell are you doing to me?” she snapped, pacing around her bedroom. “Mickey was just here again demanding more money! What did you do?”

“That’s how you speak to your mother?!” she yelled, and Grace heard a man’s voice in the background. Her voice sweetened. “I never get to talk to you anymore, sweetie.”

Grace pinched the bridge of her nose and scrunched her eyes shut on the headache forming. “Do not call me sweetie. You’re going to get me killed! That bastard wants over twenty thousand, Mom. Why do you keep borrowing money from him?”

“I’m not,” she insisted hotly. “It’s the same debt. I just can’t get the cash together. Only about forty thousand now.”

“The same debt… Mom, it’s been months! Forty thousand?!” she shrieked when the number clicked. “Mom! It was down to fifteen! How the hell did it get so high again? Stop gambling it away, for God’s sake!”

“I had to help out a few friends.”

Grace bit her tongue on the stream of curses she wanted to throw at the woman who, sadly, had given birth to her. “Mom, I’m only going to ask you this once. Please do not ruin my life the way Dad did yours. Please, I’m begging you, help me get all this shit paid off so we can both get on with our lives,” she pleaded quietly with her mom. “Please, I can’t keep doing this for you.”

Her mom sighed heavily, and for a second, Grace thought she’d finally gotten through to her. But her mom said she was a grown woman and didn’t need her daughter telling her what to do. There was a loud click and Grace yelled, chucking her cell at her bed.

If she couldn’t make this weekend work and get the twenty thousand, and if her mom couldn’t get her shit together, it wouldn’t matter how hard Grace worked. She’d never get out of this life. She’d never be able to make something of herself.