8. Sabrina

One week. I made it one whole week at Grady International. If I could do that, I could keep the job forever. Excelling in my studies was one thing. Answering calls and fielding meetings for Chase, Russell, and Garrett is entirely different. Exhaustion slowed my steps as I walked into my apartment on Friday afternoon.

Keith bounced by my side, his brown eyes alight with his usual mischief. “Guess what I get to do. I get to make a volcano for science class.”

“Really?” I don’t have to feign curiosity or enthusiasm, not for Keith. “At school?”

“At home.” He throws his arms out straight and jumps up and down, forgetting for a minute that lately he’s been trying to act more grown-up than any eight-year-old should. “Then I get to film it and send it to my science teacher.”

“You’re going to make a volcano at home?”

He rolled his eyes and grabbed my hand. “Not a real one. Mr. Michaels emailed you the instructions. He says we should make it in the backyard.”

Relief rushed through me. Not that I’d mind destroying the kitchen with Keith, but calling the housekeeper to clean up the mess wasn’t an option anymore.

Keith zoomed into the apartment, his voice carrying back to me. “I’ll start gathering the ingredients. Mr. Michaels made one in class, so I remember what to do.”

“Don’t start it yet.” I checked my watch. “We have to go see Grandpa for dinner.”

“I’m just getting it ready.” A crash sounded from the kitchen, followed by Keith’s “I’m okay.”

I kicked off my heels and rubbed my sore feet, grateful I could get away with flats for dinner tonight. Dad couldn’t care less about what I wore to the dinner table, but my stepmother Bailey took issue with anything I did. I figured I might as well be comfortable while I dealt with her.

What would Chase think of all this? The question startled me upright, and I planted my shoulders against the wall to keep from toppling over. Chase would hate Bailey. I knew that instinctually, and he’d proven me right yesterday when he blew off a woman acting just like my stepmother during a business meeting. Afterward, he’d told me to blacklist her from the company’s contacts because he “didn’t deal with self-righteous gold diggers.” Warmth bloomed in my chest. They’d all been great this week. Garrett had returned after the meeting and given me the recording after checking that I was feeling better. He’d misinterpreted my unease and I never corrected him. I wasn’t going to tell him the truth about it anyway, so I was grateful he never pushed the issue.

I’d expected annoyance from Chase, but he merely went about his business with the occasional heated glance my way. Those looks went straight to my core. I still wanted him. I didn’t think I’d ever stop reminiscing about our one night together. Garrett invaded my dreams now, too. The two men woke me night after night with hot, desperate need pulsing between my thighs.

“Mom, can I use this?” Keith stumbled out of the kitchen holding one of my sheet pans for baking cookies.

“Sure. Knock yourself out. Just … not literally.”

He frowned at me briefly before spinning and darting to the back door where a broad expanse of green lawn stretched between us and the main house.

The sight of it caused my stomach to churn. I dreaded the upcoming hours trapped with Bailey.

I’d never be anything but a nuisance to her, but tonight I hoped to at least impress my father when I told him I had a job. A job that I’d gotten on my own merit, without any help from the Adams last name or money. This was mine. All mine. God, it felt good to have something completely my own. Dad and Bailey couldn’t take this away from me.

Unless they found out who I worked for.

I followed Keith into the backyard and sank into the nearest Adirondack chair. Thick cushions wrapped around me. “What do we do first?”

Keith sat back on his heels and braced his palms on his knees. The tight, pensive expression reminded me of Dad, and I moved to his side, careful to tuck my skirt around my knees as I sat.

“What is it?” I smoothed his dark hair back from his face.

A hint of a smile slipped free and he bolted to his feet. “Baking soda. We need lots of baking soda. I want it to shoot up to here.” He held out his hand by his waist. “Can we make it do that? Mr. Michaels’s bubbled and oozed. I want ours to really blow up.”

I couldn’t deny him this one thing, even if it took me researching all weekend to get the right combination of ingredients. “Heck yeah we can do that.”

“Thanks, Mom.” He flung his warm arms around my neck and squeezed. “I’m going to change for dinner.” He squeezed again, then raced into the house.

I’d gotten a lot of things wrong in my life, but Keith was not one of them. He was the one thing I’d gotten right. I wasn’t a perfect mother. Bailey made sure I knew that. But I’d raised him the best I knew how, given him the best education I could, and I kept him away from his toxic grandmother and cousins. He had a chance to turn into a decent man.

Thirty minutes later, Keith and I walked hand in hand up the seven concrete steps leading to the front door. He pressed the button for the bell and we waited.

Keith fidgeted when three minutes turned into four. Then five.

“Ring it again.” If she didn’t answer in two minutes, we were walking in. Bailey might have rules about everything, every action I took inside this house, but she was not keeping me from the one night of the month that Dad made sure to sit at the dinner table with his family.

The door opened before the second set of bells finished. Bailey stood there in a charcoal dress that ended at her knees, her hair twisted up in a bun, and a nasty scowl on what used to be a pretty face. “You’re late.”

“You didn’t answer the door.” I breezed past her, Keith close to my side. My low heels clicked in the tomb-like foyer until I crossed into the dining room where Dad sat at the head of the table. My half-siblings crowded together on one side, the four of them watching my every move. I stared them down until Keith and I were seated side by side opposite them.

Dad looked up from his phone and a light smile lifted one cheek. “Sabrina. Keith.”

It wasn’t much, but damn if I wouldn’t take the acknowledgment like it was an Olympic gold medal.

Bailey cleared her throat and slid into her seat beside Dad. “Now that we’re all here.” She looked pointedly at me. “Robert has something to say.”

Robert, the oldest of Bailey’s children, sat straighter and adjusted his tie. “I’ve started working with Dad. I’m training to join him as CEO.”

Dad made a grunting noise but didn’t dispute the claim. Robert’s announcement stole most of the wind from me. I ground my teeth as annoyance surged and heat prickled my scalp.

Bailey clapped and bounced in her chair. “Isn’t that exciting? The first son will be taking over for his father.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” Dad set his phone aside and pinned Bailey with a serious look. “I agreed to let the boy work in the office, filing papers and shit. He’s not even in the upper floors yet, Bailey. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

The self-righteous smirk dropped from her face and was replaced with one of saccharine falsity. “We’ll talk about that later.” She patted his arm.

I knew how that conversation would go. Dad had always deferred to Bailey when it came to the kids. He’d give in eventually, the same way he had with all her other ideas through the years. If she ever got a real say so in the company, Dad would be bankrupt in a year.

“I have some news.” Robert had stolen my thunder, but I wasn’t about to let another month pass without telling him.

“Oh?” Bailey eyed me up and down. “Are you pregnant again?”

Keith stiffened by my side. He was young, but he had a warrior’s heart, and he recognized the threat in Bailey’s voice.

“I have a job.” My heart stuttered in my chest. What was I going to say if Dad asked where?

I shouldn’t have worried. No sooner did Dad’s mouth open, hopefully to congratulate me, than Bailey drowned him out with a long squeal. “That’s wonderful. Isn’t that wonderful, Leon?” She held his arm with both hands, gripping it so tight her fake nails dented his skin. “We’ve been talking for months about turning the apartment into a studio for my painting. It’s the only place that gets the right lighting.”

What the actual fuck? My apartment gets zero lighting. There’s one bay window in the living room, and it faces north, where a long line of trees cut off any light that dares filter our way.

“What are you talking about?”

“You moving out, of course. Now that you have a job, you can find your own place to live.” Bailey’s vicious smile held an edge I’d never seen before. She dared me to challenge her on this.

I shot a look toward Dad. Surely he’d step in this time. Surely he didn’t mean to let Bailey kick me and Keith out on the street.

Dad scrolled on his phone, his attention riveted on whatever he saw there. His brows furrowed, and he tugged his arm free of Bailey’s grip.

Robert and his siblings watched the conversation with the kind of rapt attention vultures gave fallen prey. They were waiting for me to roll over and die so they could swoop in and feed off my carcass. The hell with them. “I’m not moving out.”

Bailey could try and force me to move out, but I’d be damned if I was going to let her get away with this. I wanted independence, but not like this. I couldn’t afford a decent place yet. I’d checked on a few, and the deposit alone was a whole paycheck, and that was before I paid for Keith’s school, food, and other necessities that Bailey had talked Dad into refusing to pay over the years.

I didn’t blame him. Keith was my son, and I wanted to be the one footing the bill for his care. Not like this, though.

“Dad?” My voice sounded small and insecure. I cleared my throat and tried again. “The apartment is a terrible choice for Bailey’s studio.” The woman didn’t even paint anything that could be called art. She slapped a brush on canvas and called it a masterpiece when it resembled something Keith had brought home from kindergarten. “It takes months to find a place for rent. Especially this time of year.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’ll be fine. You have that job to take care of everything.” Bailey was enjoying this. Pure glee twisted her mouth into a broad smile that almost looked genuine, only because she knew it caused me pain.

Dad stood and brushed a hand down his stomach. He hadn’t even picked up his fork. “I have to go back to the office.”

“Take Robert with you.” Bailey motioned for Robert to stand.

Tall to the point of lanky, with shaggy hair that flopped strangely across his forehead, Robert had neither the demeanor nor the business sense to ever be a CEO.

“No.” Dad held up one hand in a stop motion. “Stay here with your mother.”

Keith tugged on my sleeve. “I want to go home.” He shifted in his seat, his eyes downcast as he twisted his hands in his shirt.

Poor kid. I didn’t blame him. “Sure. Let’s go.” What was the point in staying when Dad was already halfway to the door? “Come on, we’ll catch up to Grandpa.” My chair screeched when I shoved it back. I was petty enough to delight in the way Bailey flinched.

Taking Keith’s hand, we walked behind Dad. I almost called out for him to wait up, but I knew I’d be disappointed—and Bailey would be delighted—when he ignored my plea.

Bailey caught up with us at the front door, her palm slamming it closed and holding it in place.

“What?” I could throw her aside, but it was easier to listen to her than to deal with the fallout of physically touching the venomous woman.

Her sneer reappeared, followed by a flash of glee when she laughed. “I wanted to make sure you knew that you’ve been removed from the bank accounts. Leon signed the papers this morning, and I dropped them off at the bank.” She reached out like she might pat my cheek, and I swatted her away. “It’s good you’re a working girl now. No more mooching off Daddy’s money.” Her lips puckered in an insincere pout. “You wanted your independence. Well, here it is.” She took a step back from the door.

Icy cold replaced the heat in my veins. I felt weighted down with the sudden burden of being responsible for every aspect of our lives. I refused to let Bailey see the effect her words had on me and lifted my chin. “One less string you can pull to try and unravel me.” I gripped the knob and yanked the door open. Weak sunlight washed over me. Keith tore free of the gloom and ran with the wild abandon I used to feel. The sight eased the ache in my heart. “You should go see your doctor. You have a new wrinkle.” I pointed at the center of her forehead. “I think they call that the bitch line. It’s incurable. Not even Botox can make that go away.”

She slapped a hand to her forehead with a gasp, and I left feeling victorious. It was petty as shit, and I laughed all the way home.

It wasn’t until I closed the door behind me that the reality of it all crashed into me. What was I going to do about a new place to stay? Fuck. Should I fight Bailey on this or leave it alone and move out?