Living Violet Read Online Free Page A

cleavage. Her hair was pulled up in a loose bun with brown tendrils framing her face.
    Though she had put on a little weight over the years, Julie Marshall was a nice-looking woman. True, I got my curly hair, flat butt, and ultra-sensitive skin from her, along with the Wolf-Man eyebrows that required waxing every week. But not even that could detract from her round, honest face and the best legs this side of the Mason-Dixon Line. All the same, if I had a kid at sixteen, I would probably look like a MILF at her age too.
    Dad was dressed casual tonight, a far cry from the corporate takeover suits he usually wore. His white button-down shirt made a bold contrast to his dark chocolate skin. The overhead light bounced off his shaved head.
    They worked in silent harmony, oblivious to my presence, even as I dropped my bag on the kitchen table. Against its original purpose, the table overflowed with coupons and unopened mail. Mom’s laptop, the only thing the woman had ever splurged on, chimed away, letting her know more unread mail waited in cyberspace.
    â€œYou can’t speak now?” Dad’s deep baritone stopped me in my tracks.
    â€œHi, Daddy.” I bent to kiss his cheek.
    â€œYou’re home late, honey,” Mom said while cutting green peppers.
    â€œMonthly book meeting. Sorry.”
    Rubbing my back, Dad asked, “Is there something wrong with your cell phone, baby girl? I’ve tried calling you all day, and all I got was your voice mail.”
    â€œI was at work,” I explained quickly. “I can’t have my phone on at work.”
    â€œUh-huh. I figured as much, so I decided to pay you a little visit.” He set down a peeled potato and reached for another. “So your mother told me you agreed to our arrangement with your car.”
    â€œYep.” The thought brought a smile to my face.
    My current car had served its purpose, but it was time to put it down. It was a 1998 Honda Civic with chipped white paint and a busted air-conditioning unit. My phobia of public transportation was the only thing that kept me from chucking it off a cliff.
    Dad frowned in thought. “I’m glad to hear that, but she didn’t say anything about you watching Kyle and Kenya.”
    My smile dropped. “Who watch what?”
    â€œYou heard me.” He seemed amused that he had just ruined my victory party.
    â€œSamara.” Mom sighed, knowing this song and dance all too well. “You’re their big sister. You need to show them some support.”
    Oh yeah, this was definitely a shakedown. I stole a glimpse at my traitorous mother before saying, “Well, now I gotta pick up more hours at work to save up for the car. I don’t think I can take the time to watch the twins.”
    Dad nodded. “You know it’s your stepmother’s and my anniversary next weekend, and it would mean so much to us if you could take the time out of your busy schedule to help us out.”
    â€œWhy can’t Nana watch them?”
    â€œNana’s in Atlanta until next Tuesday. Plus the doctor told her to take it easy after her hip surgery. She couldn’t keep up with a pair of six-year-olds.”
    â€œWell, Dad, sorry about your luck. Have you broken the news to Rhonda?”
    Dad dropped the peeler and locked eyes on me. For anyone else, that look would involve imminent death, but I was lucky to get away with a sound reprimand. Though the spankings had stopped years ago, the look in his dark eyes told me the legendary belt was about to make a comeback.
    Instead, he spoke in the calmest voice. “Samara, it would mean a great deal to me if you did this favor. I haven’t gotten a weekend off in months, and the reservations I made are nonrefundable.”
    I must have gotten that stubborn streak from him, because I managed to stand my ground.
    â€œIf you don’t help me,” he continued, “I may have to retract my end of the deal involving your