Sparrow

Finally, after a few minutes, she hung up on the person and wiggled her finger at me. “My daughter will give you nice dress. She your size. But you no dirty it and you give back after dry clean. Comprende?”

I nodded, a little shocked and a lot relieved. I couldn’t, for the life of me, understand why she’d want to help me. Either way, I was glad Brennan would see me in something presentable and perhaps give me this job.

“Thanks, I guess.” I followed her movements as she began cleaning up after me.

“You,” she said furiously, scrubbing pans and shielding me away from helping her with her shoulder, “are little girl. He,” she continued, pointing upstairs with her chin to where the bedroom was, “a big, powerful man. You no annoying him, or he dump your ass.”

I couldn’t help but break into a laugh. “Dump your ass” was just about the funniest thing Maria had ever said to me.

I shook my head and walked to her, pouting my apology. “You’re right. And please don’t clean after me. I can do this myself.” I carefully tried to pry a dirty pan from her hand.

She rolled her eyes and elbowed me away. “Let me clean, silly girl.”

I packed up all the food that I'd made and dispatched it to the homeless shelter, via a taxi and a big tip from Connor, who refused to let me deliver it myself.

I didn’t get to meet Maria’s daughter. She left the cocktail dress for Connor to pick up in the lobby along with a pair of high heels while I was in the shower. Those, too, were exactly my size. When I walked into the bedroom, the gown was already laid out on Troy’s big bed. It was a peach-colored and sleeveless, with a sweetheart neckline and a thin gold belt.

At 7:45, I zipped it on me, added some makeup (not too much, just a little mascara and lip gloss to cover up my freckles and hours of self-pity) and rode the elevator down to the lobby.

Not to my surprise, Troy was late. I texted Lucy and Daisy while sitting in one of the creamy leather chairs, waiting for him. A sudden urge to wrap myself up in familiarity, in their friendship, gripped me. Plus, it was evident they were more than a little suspicious about my sudden disappearance from our neighborhood.

Me: Hey, girls, want to have drinks next week?

Lucy: You tell us.

Me: ?

Daisy: Stopped by your house. Your dad said something about you moving out. What’re you hiding, Birdie?

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Guess the reassuring messages I’d sent my friends hadn’t really make the impact I was hoping for.

Me: You must have misunderstood. I’m not hiding anything. Just busy. My interview is in a few minutes, btw.

Lucy: You worked at a diner and take cooking classes. Now all of a sudden, you have a job interview at Rouge Bis? One to ten, how stupid do you think we are?

Me: Mmm…5?

Me again: Kidding. Look, I can explain.

No, I couldn’t. And that was the worst part. I knew they’d find out eventually, but I didn’t want to deal.

Daisy: You better. We’ll be waiting for you @ our usual spot. Good luck with the interview.

I was about to fire Lucy and Daisy another message when I heard footfalls and my eyes shot up from my cell. I recognized his walk. It was elegant, self-assured and claimed the space he’d just entered. He wore a pale gray suit that somehow made him look even taller and broader. I stood up, smoothing my dress with my hands and looking at him like a guilty kid.

“How were the pancakes?” Brennan placed a dry, impersonal kiss on my cheek.

Like he had to. Like I was an annoying aunt. He also seemed to have forgotten (or not noticed) I’d thrown the stack of pancakes in the sink. Wow, what an attentive husband. Lucky me.

“Worth all the sugary crap in them.” I tipped my chin up defiantly, then rethought the attitude. I wanted that job. “Like my dress?”

Brennan frowned, but his expression looked more puzzled than angry. “You picked this dress yourself?” He took a step back, examining me. His frown made him no less easy on the eyes.

In fact, any expression other than his cold shark-gaze made my pulse increase. He wasn’t unattractive, and it bothered me. A lot.

“Shopping wasn’t first priority,” I admitted, making sure there was enough distance between us. Brennan was hot. Not just figuratively, he actually radiated warmth. “Maria was kind enough to call her daughter and ask if I could borrow a dress from her.”

“Her daughter?” He studied my face as we made our way out of the lobby, like he didn’t believe me.

“Yeah, her daughter. Why? Is it too peachy for your taste? Or maybe you were expecting a leather thong like my wedding gift?” I cocked an eyebrow, shivering as we exited into another cold, drizzling night.

He simply pressed his palm possessively into the small of my back and led me out to the awning-covered sidewalk. I tried to ignore the bolt of lust shooting down my belly at his touch. I wanted to move into his heat. Probably just the fact I had little to no experience with the opposite sex, I tried convincing myself. After all, I hated this man. My body, as it turned out, didn’t share the sentiment.

“You look nice,” he offered, though everything about his compliment felt like it had a hidden meaning, as per usual.

“Thank you.”

The street was buzzing with traffic and pedestrians. I recognized his car from his visit to my neighborhood. The white Maserati—a stark contrast to a mob-style black Mercedes, I didn’t fail to note—was double-parked in the middle of the one-way street in front of the building. He’d created an unapologetic traffic jam, blocking the way of a dozen vehicles behind him. People were honking and swearing, waving their fists out of their car windows despite the rain.