“Oh, my! Thank you, dear. We’ll just put it in the offering for this week.” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. She was stressed about the phone call.
I took a seat.
Her eyes narrowed. “Was there something else?”
“How bad is it?” I asked.
“I don’t know what you’re—”
“The damage to their house,” I interrupted. “How bad?”
She still didn’t answer. I looked at her nameplate and smiled. “Stella, you can tell me.”
“Bad,” she blurted. “The poor pastor can’t afford to fix it, especially not after flying to the Philippines for mission work and Pris is talking nonsense about using her college fund. And the house is not even livable! They can’t live in a house with smoke damage! Why the entire basement is destroyed, never mind the electrical! They need to re-wire the entire house!” She burst into tears again, then apologized as she blew her nose into a tissue.
“No insurance?”
“They have flood insurance.” She sniffled. “Not fire insurance.”
“Damn Seaside,” I muttered.
She glared.
“Sorry, er, it slipped.”
“I don’t know how they’ll manage, though they always do. Well, Seaside is a good community. Our only hope is that people help out, but with the economy the way it is…” She shook her head. “That girl deserves to go to college. She’s worked so hard.”
“She will,” I vowed. “I promise.”
I stood and held out my hand. “This stays between us?”
Stella eyed my hand then shook it. “Of course, young man.”
“Good.” I smiled. “Thank you, love.”
I could have sworn she melted into her chair as she gave me a giggling wave.
Storming out of the room, I pulled out my cell and dialed Peter’s number.
He answered on the third ring.
“What?”
“I need help.”
“Shit. Are you in trouble?”
“I’m in Seaside, what the hell kind of trouble do you think I could get into? Humping a whale?”
“Jaymeson, I don’t have time for this. I—“
“Look, I just need one of your assistants to look up the best electrician in Seaside, a good carpenter, and homeowner’s insurance that covers everything.”
“Are you buying a house?” His voice was stunned.
“No.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m saving one.”
I hung up and got into my car. Pris didn’t have to know it was me — nobody did — to them it would be the community. I knew how much she hated charity, but this way she could go to school. And at least when I left Seaside, I’d be leaving a part of myself behind.
Not that that wasn’t my reality already. Because I was pretty sure Pris already owned a piece of my black heart, and damn if I wanted to take it back.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Priscilla
Smith was late.
Which meant I was pacing in the condo, wearing clothes I wasn’t totally sure looked good.
Fashion hadn’t always been my thing. I mean, I dressed fine, but Alyssa’s style was a bit louder than mine.
With a huff, I pulled out my phone and clicked on the conversation that had been going on between me and Jamie all day.
Me: Can you tell me if I look okay?
I attached a selfie and waited.
Jamie Hudson: Go change.
Me: That bad?
Jamie Hudson: No. That good. I don’t want him ripping your clothes off like some bad sex scene in a movie. Don’t you own a sweater?
Me: They aren’t my clothes. They’re my cousin Alyssa’s. She has a different style than I do.
Jamie Hudson: Hmm, put us on video chat.
I panicked. I mean, we’d never chatted before. I wasn’t sure it was such a good idea.
Jamie Hudson: Stop over analyzing, I want you to take me into your closet.
Me: This feels weird.
Jamie Hudson: Video chat. Now.
I turned on the video chat but couldn’t really see him, the room was dark, he was wearing a baseball cap, a hoody, and nerdy glasses that made him look like a teenager.
“Okay,” I said out loud, feeling like an idiot. “Can you hear me?”
“Loud and clear.” He chuckled, his voice was smooth, really clear, almost too perfect, like he was taking special care with each word.
“So here’s the closet.”
“Does she own a mall?” He laughed. “Okay, take me to the right.”
Giggling, I faced the phone to the right where her sweaters were located. “I vote the loose necked striped hoody with leggings, boots, warm socks, and a hat.”
“So you want me to be completely covered from head to toe?”
“That’s the idea,” he said. “What? Did you want my help or not?”
“Yes,” I grumbled, reaching for the clothes.
“Okay.” He drew out the ay. “Now set me down, go change and show me again.”
Rolling my eyes, I set the phone down. “Give me a few minutes.”
I ran into the bathroom, quickly changed, and rolled my eyes knowing that he was right about the outfit. The one I’d had one earlier was a low cut tank top with skinny jeans.
Picking up the phone, I faced it toward me and did a one-up of my outfit. “This better?”
“Hmm, I don’t know, I may have to look again.”
Laughing, I pointed at the phone. “No more! It would be improper.”