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“Not really. I stay cold all the time like Mom.”
“Well, we’re going to at least find you a cute little short-sleeved shirt in your dresser that you can put on. Maybe something that shows off your assets a bit.”
I blinked. “I don’t have those like you do, Hannah.”
“Oh, come on. I’d kill for your legs.”
“And I’d kill for your curves.”
She rolled her eyes. “Come on. We don’t have that loser distracting you and making you feel weird anymore. So let’s find you an outfit for tonight.”
I pointed to my laptop. “I really should be--”
Hannah took my hand. “No. I won’t let you go another semester without making a friend.”
“You’re my friend.”
“Someone other than me. Dani, you can’t go an entire college career and not make any friends. That isn’t healthy. College is enjoyed with people. Yes, studies are important, but so are connections. I’m sure even your parents would back that up.”
Actually, they already had.
“Fine, okay. We’ll do this. Under one condition.”
Hannah smiled. “Name it.”
I pointed at her. “No. Makeup.”
She sighed. “Not even lip gloss?”
“Nope.”
“Or a bit of mascara?”
“Nope.”
“Or some blush!?”
“Not a bit of it.”
She rolled her eyes. “Fine. But that means I get more liberties with your outfit. And jewelry. Come on. Let’s get you dolled up for the evening.”
6
Max
I sat at the wrought iron gate of the sprawling property and sighed. I hated coming to this place. It always forecast terrible, awful things to come. The spic-and-span white house always threw people off. Good people lived in white houses. But the blood red shutters told a much different story. It boasted of the blood on the hands of the man that lived here. It boasted of the lives this man had taken when he was the president of our crew. Dread filled my gut. It always did just before I pressed the red button on the intercom. The kind of red that matched the shutters, complemented the wrought iron gates, and always reminded me of exactly whose presence I was about to be graced with.
But, every single time, I pressed that button.
Because we needed jobs, and we needed to get paid.
“Yes?”
“It’s Max. Let me up.”
“Of course, sir. Right away.”
The Australian accent filled my ears as the intercom turned off. And when the wrought iron gates started moving in front of me, I revved my engine, letting Ashton know I was coming. I sped up the driveway, taking in the smell of the apple trees that lined the concrete pathway on either side. It was the only refreshing thing about this property. Picking a sweet, fresh apple off one of those
