Page 73 of Saving Savannah


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Three sharp knocks became a rapid pounding. The voice out in the hallway grew more frantic.

“MOM! OPEN THE DOOR!”

“RELAX SIMON!” the woman said loudly, and the pounding stopped. “It’s okay. Just… give me a moment.”

If there was disdain in her eyes the first time I’d encountered her, it had blossomed into full-blown hatred now. Those eyes stayed fixated on me, even as she rose and made her way over to a small desk. She produced a key from an inside pocket, and opened the lowest drawer. Slowly, carefully, she counted out a stack of bills, then slid the

m my way.

“Four hundred dollars,” she sneered. “Are you happy? You win.”

“There’s nothing to be happy about,” I told her. “And there was never a prize to be won. If anything, this makes us even.”

“Whatever,” the woman spat. “Just… get out.”

“No,” I said coldly. “Not just yet.”

The woman stared daggers back at me, her earrings flashing gold in the dim light. But she blinked in surprise as I slid the money back in her direction.

“Take it,” I said.

Her eyebrows crossed. “What?”

“Keep the money,” I shrugged. “I never wanted it to begin with.”

“Then why did you—”

“Because now I win,” I stared back at her. “Actually, we both do. You learned a valuable lesson. And I get good karma.”

The woman tilted her head at me. “And that lesson would be?”

“Not every newcomer is a greedy asshole out to steal your business,” I told her. “Let go of the ‘locals rule’ bullshit, and be more accepting.”

I nodded to Zane, and he opened the door. Together we strode out, pushing straight past her bewildered son. We walked right through the living room, where everyone was still waiting. They all stopped talking at once, glancing up at us expectantly.

“Oh she’s good,” I smiled, jerking a thumb back down the hallway. “Real good.”

Silence. Dead silence.

“The best,” Zane chimed in, with a wink.

I grabbed the front door and pulled it open, letting the crisp fall air fill my lungs. It tasted so much better now. Almost sweet.

“Did you say something about grabbing a bite to eat?”

Zane chuckled. “Yeah. Sort of.”

“Well then let’s go,” I chided, pulling him down the driveway. “Your girl is famished.”

We walked, hand in hand, swinging our arms all the way to the sidewalk. I felt deliriously happy. Relieved.

And for the first time, totally, utterly clear.

“Is that what you are?” Zane asked, out of the blue.

“Hmm?”

“My girl.”

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