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She narrowed her eyes on me. “Or, what?”
“Or, you could just move in with me, and you never have to worry about anything ever again.”
“No,” she whispered, shaking her head and pulling her hand away. “I can’t, Cash.”
Unable to let her get away, I took her other hand and kissed the back of it. “Why not? It’s not like you’re going to be at your place much now anyway. And if you fucking think I’m going to spend very many nights away from you if you don’t move, you’re out of your mind, Dreamer.”
“It’s too soon,” she argued. “And I really want to try this on my own. I’ve been under my stepdad’s thumb for so, so long. Now that I’m not, it feels amazing. I want to get a job and fend for myself. It’s not your responsibility to take care of me.”
I entwined our fingers and leaned in to kiss her lips. “Maybe I want to take care of you.”
She smiled but shook her head. “You’re so cute when you pout like that. Please understand, babe. I need to stand on my own two feet and prove to myself I can do this. That probably doesn’t make sense to you, but this is important to me.”
She was wrong. I understood exactly where she was coming from and how she was feeling. When I moved to California with the band, I had to get a job waiting tables. It had been tough, fucking hard as hell at times, but it had also been something I needed more than anything else in the world at the time. It made getting our record deal all the more satisfying. I’d proved to myself that I could stand on my own and succeed while still going after what was important to me.
“Yeah, okay. I get it. But you’ll still be staying with me more often than not, right?”
She lifted her lips in a coy smile. “Every chance I get.”
The waiter appeared with our food and set it in front of us. Once he was gone, Amara changed the subject. “How was your grandmother?”
My fingers tightened around my fork and knife as a wave of guilt hit me square in the gut. I didn’t like thinking of Gigi when I was with Amara, didn’t want to consider what would happen if she ever found out what my grandmother had asked of me. If she knew what I was capable of, the kind of bastard I could be when the situation called for it, she wouldn’t look at me the same way.
“She’s doing better,” I told her, pushing down all the thoughts of what I’d done the day before out of my head. “Still refusing the chemo, though.”
“I’m so sorry,” she murmured. “Is there anything I can do?”
I kissed her temple. “Just having you beside me is enough, Dreamer.”
Chapter 9
Amara
A month without a single job prospect was annoying. I wasn’t pa
rticularly worried about money in general, but I was tired of sitting around on my ass doing nothing while my friends were out doing their own things or working.
Which was why I was so curious as to why Emmie Armstrong had texted me out of the blue the day before. I had no idea how she had gotten my number. Both Cash and Riley said they hadn’t given it to her, yet she’d texted my phone directly, asking me to come to her office for a “chat.”
She owned floors five through eight in a building downtown. Riley dropped me off on her way to work. It took a little time to get through the rigorous security—first, in the lobby, and then on the floor Emmie had told me was her office, but as soon as I was past the last guy, Emmie’s assistant was there to meet me.
“Hi, you must Amara,” the woman greeted with a professional smile. “I’m Rachel.”
“Hi,” I murmured, glancing around at the bustling people.
She turned, leading me toward Emmie’s office. “Can I get you something to drink? Tea, coffee, a bottled water?”
“No, thank you. I’m good. Just curious as to what Emmie would want to see me about.”
Rachel lifted a shoulder in a half shrug. “Sorry, can’t help you with that one. The boss is mysterious at times. It could be anything, really.” She stopped and lifted her brows at me. “You didn’t do anything to piss her off, did you?”
That stopped me in my tracks. Piss Emmie off? I couldn’t remember doing anything to make her mad at me. Unless… Unless she didn’t want me dating Cash.
My stomach began to toss and turn at the possibility that my relationship with one of her clients would make me her enemy. Was she going to ask me to break up with him? Because as much as she was a mentor to me and I looked up to her, I couldn’t do that. Just the thought of giving up Cash was making my heart race with panic.
Rachel touched my arm reassuringly. “Don’t worry about it. She’s in a good mood today, so whatever it is, she’s not going to eat you alive. At least, most likely not.”
Gulping, I followed her the rest of the way to Emmie’s office, where she knocked once and then opened the door for me. “Here she is,” she announced to the redhead sitting behind her huge desk.
