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“I have a feeling he’ll be far more thorough than we are.”
“Are you mad?”
“No, honey, we’re not mad. We love you, and we’re concerned. We just don’t want you to get hurt. And please don’t be mad at Jason for coming to us. He did the right thing, even if you don’t think so.”
I sigh. “I know. He told me he had to. I get it. I just hated the idea of you guys knowing.”
“But the important thing is, you didn’t cut yourself. The next time she tells you to hurt yourself, or you feel the need, tell someone. Either your dad or me, or Jason. Can you do that?”
“Yes.”
She kisses the side of my head. “I’m going to work now. Will you be okay at home today? I’m sure Jason will keep you company.”
I hug my mom, grateful that she’s not more upset at me. “I’ll be fine. I promise.”
Chapter 13
Jason Miller
A few minutes before eight, I head to Layla’s room and knock on the door. It opens right away this time—that’s definitely an improvement. She’s wearing jeans and a long-sleeve T-shirt with a UChicago logo on it. I caught her in the process of brushing her teeth.
“Almost ready,” she mumbles.
Layla motions for me to come inside, and then she retreats to the bathroom to finish getting ready. I walk through her bedroom, just nosing around and stop to scan the titles of the books on one of her huge bookcases. Lots of familiar pop culture favorites—Hunger Games,Twilight, Divergent,Game of Thrones, Fifty Shades of Grey—whoa—are mixed in with classics by Jane Austen, Charlotte Brontë, and Jules Verne. There must be hundreds of books on these shelves. And then there’s an entire bookcase of nothing but romance novels. I pull one off the shelf and roll my eyes at the image of a bare-chested man on the cover.
“Do you like to read?” she asks as she comes out of the bathroom.
Her hair is freshly brushed and pulled back into a ponytail, making her look even younger than her twenty-one years. When she smiles at me, my chest tightens. She’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. As soon as the thought enters my head, I squash it. She’s myclient. That’s all she can ever be to me, and thinking of her in any other way is pointless.
I mentally shake myself and focus on her question. “Yeah. I read sci-fi and military thrillers. As a kid, I devoured books by Jules Verne and Edgar Rice Burroughs. I wanted to travel to the center of the earth and find living, breathing dinosaurs.”
She reaches for a book on one of the shelves and holds it out to me—Journey to the Center of the Earth. “This is one of my favorites. Have you seen the movie version starring Brendan Fraser?” Her smile makes my breath catch.
“No, I haven’t.”
Her eyes widen in surprise. “Oh, my god, it’s so good. We have to watch it sometime. He’s also inThe Mummy? Have you seen that one?” Her excitement is infectious.
“Sounds like we’re in for a movie night.”
Layla’s face lights up like I just promised her the moon, and suddenly I want to make it my life’s mission to give this girl plenty of reasons to smile. She’s such a surprise. She has more money than she could possibly know what to do with. She could have literally anything she wanted, and she gets excited because I agree to watch a movie with her.
“Sounds like a date,” she says. And then her eyes widen in embarrassed shock. “I didn’t mean adatedate. You know what I mean—just friends watching a movie. That kind of date.”
I try not to smile at how flustered she is. “I know what you mean, and yeah, I’m looking forward to it. All right, it’s getting late. Are you ready to go down to breakfast?”
We head downstairs, and when we walk into the kitchen, there’s plenty of activity going on. André is at the stove, as usual, and Claire is at the island counter kneading dough. Margaret’s eating breakfast at the big kitchen table.
“Good morning, Layla,” Margaret says with a smile. She nods to me. “Jason. I hope you both slept well. Help yourselves to breakfast.” She points toward the buffet table, which holds several stainless-steel warming trays. “André made his famous French crepes this morning. They’re delicious served with whipped cream and fresh sliced strawberries.”
There’s a huge spread of food and beverages available this morning including crepes, scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, fresh fruit, orange juice, coffee, and hot water for tea.
Layla walks over to the buffet, picks up a plate, and starts helping herself.
I grab a plate for myself. One of the perks of living in a five-star home is that I get to eat like a king. André’s cooking is a far cry above the frozen breakfast sandwiches and cold cereal that I’m used to.
When we sit down to eat, André and Claire join us.
While Layla inputs the estimated grams of carbs she’s eating into her device, I check her current reading.
