AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“What? Did you replace her engine?” How long have I been asleep? I thought it would take him a week or more to get her running again. Did I pull a Rumpelstiltskin and sleep the week through?
“Well, no.” Chris clears his throat forcefully. “I was told not to—”
“What? By who?” I sit up straight in bed, my pajama top is skewed and my boob is hanging out. I fight the material to cover me as it should, taking my rising anger out on the tank top.
“Your fiancé… uh, Jason?” The mechanic’s voice seems tainted with something distasteful.
“My what?” I yell, coming to my feet. “Jason doesn’t have anything to do with my decisions for Kiley or anything else for that matter! How dare he! That son of a—”
“I’m sorry.” Chris yells over my tirade. “I’m so sorry. He spoke like he was the man in charge. I should have known better. You would have told me if he had any authority over this matter. He just sounded…”
I could hear Chris panting. He is as worked up as I am.
“I-I’m sorry, too. Chris. This just caught me off guard. Jason and I split up and he—”
“No, it’s alright. I get it. I have an ex who gets into my business when I least expect it, too.”
I close my mouth. Once again, my mechanic understands without me explaining too much about it. “Thank you. So, you’ll keep looking for an engine for Kiley.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He sounds more like his ol’ self. Jason must have put him through the ringer when he told Chris not to fix my car. I shake my head. I’ve got to do something about Jason! This is getting ridiculous. But how can I convince Jason to move on.
If Kate doesn’t want the money, maybe I should give it to Jason for his seed money. Perhaps then he’ll go back to Denver and leave me alone. Where was he staying? I lift my phone and stare at the screen. Anger still roils in my gut. I want so badly to jump down his throat for even thinking about discussing Kiley with my mechanic. What was he thinking? That he knows better than I about Kiley’s usefulness? Or was he just forcing my hand to give him what he wants for starting that business? He knows how precious Kiley is to me.
I text him, “Can we meet for coffee?”
My phone tells me the message is delivered. I stare at it, waiting to see that he reads it. Is he even awake? Chris woke meup to tell me about Kiley. When did Jason talk to him? Surely it was this morning.
“Ok.” Jason finally texts back. “Your place or mine?”
Oh God! He thinks I’m inviting him over to my house! Wait, this gives me pause. Maybe I should invite him here. That way I can chew him out for interfering in my affairs without people witnessing me losing my cool. Hmm… I take a moment to think this idea through.
Hesitantly, I text, “Mine.”
“When?”
Oh for goodness sakes, I punch my screen’s keypad harder than is necessary. “As soon as.”
He sends an emoji smiley face. My lips protrude into a pursed frown. Just thinking about one-on-one time with him makes my stomach feel like I ate too-greasy-chili with angry jalapeños for breakfast. I go to my bathroom and pop two tums. Quickly, I dress and tame my hair into a ponytail. I have no idea where he’s staying or how long it will take him to get here, so I feel rushed to be ready. Which isn’t helping the greasy, burning sensation in my belly. Acid reflux gnaws at the back of my throat. I head to the kitchen for toast to go with my coffee. I need something in my stomach besides antacids.
Sipping my coffee while waiting on the toast, I stare out the window that allows me to see my driveway down below. As I suspected, Jason wasn’t far away and arrives in little time. Just as he pulls in, I notice the Gladiator pull in next door. Blaze was out all night, again. Was he back on his case to find the underground games? The thought causes the content of my stomach to churn. Did I narrowly miss my neighbor raiding the game I attended the other night? I feel nauseous.
Jason hops out of his expensive little Audi and trots up the stairs. I hope climbing those stairs suck all the air out of his lungs like it does me. Then my eyes shift to Blaze’s drive. He hasnot put his truck in his garage. Instead, he leans against it in his driveway, watching Jason ascend my long stairs. I step out on my front deck and wave at Blaze. “Morning.”
Will my casual, friendly gesture assure him that Jason is here at my request and not of his own accord?
Blaze unfolds his hands from where he had tucked them under his arms and gives me a little acknowledgement to my greeting. His knitted brow and pinched lips make him look concerned, or angry. Maybe both. I had told Blaze I did not want Jason anywhere near me, while we were changing out my locks and installing the surveillance cameras. To have Jason show up this morning, would look like I had changed my mind.
I shake my head. Why am I so worried about what Blaze thinks? It’s none of his business if I invite Jason over for a rendezvous or a send off. Blaze needs to stop poking his nose in my business. I smile at him, again trying to convey all is well over here, and turn my attention to Jason ascending the last set of steps. He has slowed down and leans on the rail as he walks. A cruel smile waxes my lips. It gives me great pleasure to see Jason suffer while approaching my front door. I open the door before he reaches the deck, and stand back for him to enter.
“Can I get you a cup of coffee, or water, oxygen maybe?” I lower my head, to hide my smile.
“Coffee,” he pants.
I jerk a nod and move to the counter where I already have another mug sitting out. It’s wrong, I know, but I am really enjoying Jason’s discomfort. I hand him the mug from across the kitchen bar and gesture for him to take a seat on one of the stools. He does. I remain standing.
“What will it take to get you to go home?” I start right at the heart of the matter.
His eyes widen over the rim of the coffee mug. He swallows as if the liquid has shards of glass in it. “Aw, Sweet Cakes, don’t be like that.”
