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“Well, good morning, Mr. Walters,” he said. “It’s me, Chief Tomlin with the Ohio Police Department.”
“I know who you are.”
“Well, I apologize for calling you at this hour, and I wish I were calling with better news, but I’ll just get straight to it,” he said. “Your father was booked for criminal recklessness at a casino last night, again. Should I expect that you’ll be sending us another check to prevent us from putting this on his record?”
I sighed. “Yes.”
“Will you be able to send a separate check for your mother? She’s in for public urination.”
“What? How is that even possible?”
“She followed us out of the casino as we arrested your father and peed on the trunk of one of my squad cars, sir.”
Jesus Christ...“Yes.”
“Okay. I’ll let them go scot-free as long as you send the payment by three o’clock this afternoon. Let’s go with five thousand dollars for each this time.”
“Thank you.” I ended the call and shook my head. I knew better than to expect a “Thank you for helping us again, son,” or “Sorry we did this. We’ll try to do better,” message from them when they were released. Those words weren’t in their vocabularies, and I wished I was ruthless enough to let them sit behind bars for more than a day at a time.
I’d once thought they would change when I started to make millions since they always complained about never having enough money, but that only made them worse.
No matter how much money I gave them, they squandered it on casino floors, wealth building scams, and expensive, yet worthless items they eventually pawned. They couldn’t live honest lives if they tried, and I’d given up on ever establishing a normal relationship. I simply helped them out whenever they were in trouble, sent them vouchers for free counseling (they never showed up), and asked the local authorities to call me before pressing any charges against them.
It was getting to the point that I wished that they would commit a felony that no check of mine could cover.
Needing some fresh air, I got out of bed and left my room—heading for my terrace. I was halfway there when I spotted Hayley blatantly breaking rule number one.
Dressed in a tight pink tank top and a blue pair of my boxers that she clearly stole from my side of the house, she was sitting on my counter and stirring a cup of coffee. Next to her, were trays of baked cinnamon rolls, muffins, and what appeared to be flat cakes frosted in the likeness of Scrabble pieces.
“I think we need to add another rule to the list,” I said, stepping closer. “What the hell is all this?”
“Sorry.” She looked up at me. “I couldn’t sleep.”
“Would you like me to take you back to the Four Seasons? Maybe your first week there was just a fluke, and you’ll sleep better now.”
“No.” She rolled her eyes and set down her cup. “Would you mind staying out here with me for a minute?”
“Would you mind putting on a goddamn jacket?”
She smiled and slid off the counter. “Fine.” She walked right past me, to my side of the house, and pulled one of my suit jackets from the closet. She put it on, fastening the lone button, and returned to her place on my counter. “Better?”
Worse.“Sure.” I picked up one of the cinnamon rolls and tried not to stare at her mouth. “Is this what you normally do when you can’t sleep?”
She nodded. “It’s this or sleepwalk, apparently.”
“Are your nightmares still about your mom being sentenced to prison?”
“For the most part,” she said. “I’m shocked you remember that.”
“I don’t.” I ate two more of the cinnamon rolls. “How long exactly do you need me to stay out here?”
“Until I feel like going back to my room.”
“And when will that be?”
She shrugged. “Maybe in two hours or so.”
I don’t think so. “In that case, let me help you speed that up.” I walked over and grabbed her hands, pulling her off the counter and tossing her over my shoulder. I carried her into the living room and tossed her onto the couch.
