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Wren giggles, tapping her pen against her desk. “I’ll draw up some plans, and we can set up the room. When can you start? Can you be here tomorrow to draw up some proper plans if I get someone in?”
“Uh, yeah, of course.”
I glance down at Arianna, now sleeping soundly, and move to lay her gently in her bassinet. If I start an actual job tomorrow, I really need to go home and organize my life.
Crap. Merch will never let me. Fucking hell. I turn back to Wren, eyeing her shrewdly. I’ve been pumping Lisa for information this week and taking in everything I can while hanging around the clubhouse, waiting for her and Palmer to stop fucking.
I’m almost completely sure Wren’s husband outranks Merch. Lisa mentioned that he was theLieutenantand in charge of the enforcers – which is what Merch is. I know who I need to drive me home.
“I need a lift to Pinedale,” I blurt out. Wren glances over at me, her eyebrows shooting up.
“Why?”
“If I’m going to work here, I should probably move to San Remo. I need to go home and pack.”
Wren nods, standing and grabbing her purse. She leaves her daughter sleeping soundly, hammering on Lisa’s door and telling Palmer to fuck off. He grumbles but does, winking at me as he goes. Wren asks Lisa to watch Arianna.
Lisa nods, watching me follow Wren, a question in her eye. I hold my hand up to my ear like a phone, telling her I will let her know what is happening.
Wren doesn’t ask many questions as she drives me to Pinedale, though her eyes dart across the SUV, eyeing me every so often.
“You need backup?” she asks, pulling into the driveway. I peer out the windshield, up at the looming house.
“No. I got this.” My hand lands on the door handle, and I hesitate, grimacing. “If I don’t show up tomorrow, come get me?”
Wren glances over in surprise, but I see understanding in her eyes. She nods, waving as I slide out of the SUV, watching her drive away.
I square my shoulders and walk into the house, taking a deep breath. Mom walks out of the kitchen, her eyes widening, bugging out of her head as she spots me.
“Michelle! Where the hell have you been, you stupid girl!”
Fuck, she’s absolutely livid.
“San Remo.”
It’s the wrong thing to say because she erupts.
“San Remo? What the hell were you doing there? Who was the guy on the motorcycle you ditched your date with Alex with?Howcould you have walked out on that date? Alextoldpeople you left him in the middle of dinner on the back of a motorcycle. Do you have any idea how dangerous bikers are? They’re criminals, Michelle! Are you that stupid? I thought you wouldn’t be completely clueless with an economics degree, but apparently, I was wrong. We need to do damage control….”
Blah, blah, blah. Mom follows me up the stairs, still droning on, bitching me out. I can’t tell if she was genuinely worried about me for longer than a few hours or if she’s just upset people know I consort withcriminals.
“Iknewyou seeing Annalisa Arquette was a bad idea. She’s clearly fallen in with the wrong crowd, and now she’s led you astray….”
Oh, god. She’s still going. Ignoring her, I cross to my closet, pulling out the clothes I think I’ll need. Mom is still bitching about Lisa, barely noticing what I’m doing. I amass everything I think I will want or need, leaving most of myMichelle attirein the closet.
I pack a few of the dresses, my stomach twisting at the memory of how Merch looks at me when I’mMichelle. I grab my shower things and a suitcase, starting to dump everything in.
As soon as the suitcase appears, I’m on borrowed time, quickly shoveling everything in while Mom loses her shit.
“What are you doing?” she snaps, exasperated and confused.
“Packing?”
“But why?”
“Because I’m moving out.”
She chokes, clutching at her throat. “No, you’re not. Where are you going to go?”
