TROUBLE 2 Read Online Free Page A
Author: Kristina Weaver
getting into. Trust me,” he murmurs, kissing the top of my head. “Now stop fighting with me, and let’s talk about Josey.”
He leads me into the kitchen, where a pizza box and bottle of cola stand waiting. When I have a slice and a glass, we move to the breakfast bar and sit, turning to face each other.
“Gregory.”
“Greg,” he insists for the millionth time, glaring at me.
“Greg, I can’t afford her, and we both know it. I’ve called the agency, and they’ll send someone less…costly…over tomorrow for me to interview.”
I’d have to work two jobs and sell an organ to keep up with rent and groceries and the qualified Josey Barnes.
“I hired her when you looked so impressed,” he says, and I feel myself going icy.
“Look—”
“Don’t argue. We both know Chrissie can’t mind her all the time, and I don’t want to have to drive you home every night. Once in a while I’d like for us to fall asleep together.”
Me too, but that’s not in the cards. Besides, I’m vain, and I don’t think I’m ready for Gregory to see my morning face just yet.
“Gregory.”
“Greg! Goddammit, stop trying to put so much distance between us. We’re together, deal with it and move on already. And the goddamned helper stays!”
I rear back, shocked that he is taking such a small thing so seriously, so…personally. Gregory is usually an easy-going guy. You’d assume that since he’s so controlling and domineering he’s got a stick shoved up his ass or something, but that is far from the truth.
He’s easy to be around, when I’m not focusing so much on my guilt and the wrongness of something that feels too right. Some nights we eat and watch television, cuddled up on the sofa, before he even touches me suggestively.
One time he’d been so comfortable I’d been forced to make the first move.
“Greg, look…”
“I mean, why can’t you just let us be happy together?” he asks softly, in a voice so unlike him I feel guilty for starting this argument. “We’re good together, Han, and you know it. We enjoy the same things, we both work hard — and well together — and we’re both in love with your nana. Just give this enough of a chance that I’m not yelling at you half the time. Please.”
He says the words, and my immediate response is to fling his engagement in his face. But that is so old news already, and I can only use it so many times before even I know it’s old.
The truth is that I do want to give in and let go and just be happy for however long we have together. He’s getting married, when, I do not know, but when that happens I know what we have will be over.
I’ll likely never see him again or get to look into his eyes, touch him, kiss his lips as he strokes my hair. It’s wrong, I know it, but as I look at him and feel the pain of the coming loss, I make up my mind to let go and take whatever it is I can while he’s still mine.
“I want to,” I admit, closing my eyes on a sigh.
“Good. That’s good,” he says, and I hear his relief. “It’ll be great, Han, you’ll see. We can spend more time together—”
“Greg, I can’t leave her alone with the helper all the time. She’s old. She’ll want me around too.”
“Yeah, I know that. We’ll bring her and Josey out to the house with us on weekends.”
And now I see exactly what his angle is. He wants me to accept Josey without a fight because, I’d bet my toes, he intends to pay for her, and he knows I’m not going to like it.
I mean, it’s one thing to be a man’s mistress and still be independent. It’s another thing entirely when he’s paying for more than dinner and the odd lunch.
This is a milestone, a point of no return in the screwed up ‘relationship’ we have, and I know that crossing that line is a one-way street with no return option.
“You can pay for it if, and only if, you swear you’ll hand Amber back her bakery,” I say.
It’s a hard bargain, and I know it. I’ve spoken to
He leads me into the kitchen, where a pizza box and bottle of cola stand waiting. When I have a slice and a glass, we move to the breakfast bar and sit, turning to face each other.
“Gregory.”
“Greg,” he insists for the millionth time, glaring at me.
“Greg, I can’t afford her, and we both know it. I’ve called the agency, and they’ll send someone less…costly…over tomorrow for me to interview.”
I’d have to work two jobs and sell an organ to keep up with rent and groceries and the qualified Josey Barnes.
“I hired her when you looked so impressed,” he says, and I feel myself going icy.
“Look—”
“Don’t argue. We both know Chrissie can’t mind her all the time, and I don’t want to have to drive you home every night. Once in a while I’d like for us to fall asleep together.”
Me too, but that’s not in the cards. Besides, I’m vain, and I don’t think I’m ready for Gregory to see my morning face just yet.
“Gregory.”
“Greg! Goddammit, stop trying to put so much distance between us. We’re together, deal with it and move on already. And the goddamned helper stays!”
I rear back, shocked that he is taking such a small thing so seriously, so…personally. Gregory is usually an easy-going guy. You’d assume that since he’s so controlling and domineering he’s got a stick shoved up his ass or something, but that is far from the truth.
He’s easy to be around, when I’m not focusing so much on my guilt and the wrongness of something that feels too right. Some nights we eat and watch television, cuddled up on the sofa, before he even touches me suggestively.
One time he’d been so comfortable I’d been forced to make the first move.
“Greg, look…”
“I mean, why can’t you just let us be happy together?” he asks softly, in a voice so unlike him I feel guilty for starting this argument. “We’re good together, Han, and you know it. We enjoy the same things, we both work hard — and well together — and we’re both in love with your nana. Just give this enough of a chance that I’m not yelling at you half the time. Please.”
He says the words, and my immediate response is to fling his engagement in his face. But that is so old news already, and I can only use it so many times before even I know it’s old.
The truth is that I do want to give in and let go and just be happy for however long we have together. He’s getting married, when, I do not know, but when that happens I know what we have will be over.
I’ll likely never see him again or get to look into his eyes, touch him, kiss his lips as he strokes my hair. It’s wrong, I know it, but as I look at him and feel the pain of the coming loss, I make up my mind to let go and take whatever it is I can while he’s still mine.
“I want to,” I admit, closing my eyes on a sigh.
“Good. That’s good,” he says, and I hear his relief. “It’ll be great, Han, you’ll see. We can spend more time together—”
“Greg, I can’t leave her alone with the helper all the time. She’s old. She’ll want me around too.”
“Yeah, I know that. We’ll bring her and Josey out to the house with us on weekends.”
And now I see exactly what his angle is. He wants me to accept Josey without a fight because, I’d bet my toes, he intends to pay for her, and he knows I’m not going to like it.
I mean, it’s one thing to be a man’s mistress and still be independent. It’s another thing entirely when he’s paying for more than dinner and the odd lunch.
This is a milestone, a point of no return in the screwed up ‘relationship’ we have, and I know that crossing that line is a one-way street with no return option.
“You can pay for it if, and only if, you swear you’ll hand Amber back her bakery,” I say.
It’s a hard bargain, and I know it. I’ve spoken to