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And now her grandmother’s medical bills would increase; she would need physical therapy to fully regain her walking stature.
“Damn,” Jillian swore, covering her face with her hands as she fought not to feel so overwhelmed by it all.
She’d chosen love, but love didn’t pay the bills.
She picked up her phone and opened the text she’d received from Gunther Red, the award-winning musician, asking if she was available to chef for a two-week cruise around the Greek Isles. The money was great, the locale and freedom ideal, but his love of cocaine and pleading to see if she tasted as good as she looked had kept her from accepting.
Her thumb floated above the phone as she eyed the text and seriously considered dancing with—or rather avoiding—the devil for two weeks. Any hope his wife would help keep him from being handsy went out the window when the woman had made her advances for a threesome.
Jillian dropped the phone and ran both hands through her curls before gripping the soft hair in her fists.
Bzzzzzz. Bzzzzzz. Bzzzzzz.
She looked at her phone at the incoming text. Cole. She swiped to open it.
My Heart: I have a headache.
“Awww,” she said as she picked up her phone to text him back.
Do you have a pain pill?
Bzzzzzz. Bzzzzzz. Bzzzzzz.
My Heart: Wrong head...
She laughed. The exchange reminded her of their no-strings sexual adventures when they would’ve been tearing each other’s clothes off within an hour.
“What’s so funny?”
Jillian set her phone down and looked up at her mother passing by her to wash her hands at the sink. “Nothing,” she said. “Why are you up?”
Nora opened the fridge. “Your daddy got thirsty,” she said, reaching in to pull out a bottle of water. “And why are you up? It’s after one.”
“Looking for a job,” she admitted.
Nora looked at her as she eased the water bottle into the pocket of her fluffy, bright yellow robe. “You’ll find something,” she assured her. “You want me to take a look at your résumé?”
Jillian nodded. “Yeah, maybe so, Mom. Thank you. I’ll email it to you.”
“Good,” Nora said, wrinkling her nose at her daughter affectionately before walking away.
Jillian picked up her phone, looking at both invites on her phone. One from the man she loved. The other from a man who seriously needed therapy and or drug rehab.
“Jillian.”
She looked over her shoulder, surprised to find her mother standing in the archway. “Yeah?”
“What’s going on with you and Warren?” Nora asked, coming back to take a seat at the table.
“Me and Warren?” Jillian balked, a frown on her face.
“Yes.”
The women eyed each other.
“Nothing. Just friendship. I’m with Cole, remember?” she said, reaching over to playfully tug her mother’s thumb.
Nora eyed her. Studied her.
