Doin' a Dime by Vale, Lynn (learn to read activity book .txt) 📕

I found myself being awkward, annoying, and overbearing.

People did not like me in real life.

Something in which I had been told multiple times today.

“Sure.” She grinned. “Go ahead.”

When I reached forward and did just that, I think she was surprised.

Did she think that I was kidding?

But the only thing to come off when I reached for her eyelashes was a bit of mascara and one tiny hair.

I looked down at it on my calloused finger, made a wish, and blew it off.

When I opened my eyes again, she was walking away, sipping her coffee as she did.

My eyes took in the rest of her as she swayed her hips to and fro.

She was short. Well, not really short. More of a regular-sized woman, if I had to admit. But she was short compared to my six-foot-four.

She looked over her shoulder, and the movement caused her highlighted brown hair to slip over her shoulder and fall in a wave down her back. It almost reached mid-shoulder. Not super long, but not short, either.

She grinned at me, and I was struck again by her eyes.

Her eyes were the most gorgeous shade of brown I’d ever seen—like my favorite type of chocolate—and they were covered by the longest eyelashes that I’d ever had the chance to pull.

Weird.

I was so weird.

Normal people didn’t have these thoughts, right?

I grinned at her, and she grinned back.

She didn’t realize it, but she was about to be seeing me again.

I immediately went home, hacked into the public library, and then went even further to not only find the computer she was working on, but her name, date of birth, and any and all relevant information that would be needed for what I had in mind.

I was deep in the middle of looking into her when my phone rang.

I absently reached for it and picked it up, placing it against my ear.

“Hello?” I mumbled distractedly.

“I can’t believe you didn’t call me the moment that you got out of that courtroom,” my mother groaned. “Well, what happened?”

“I was given a plea deal,” I answered. “Ten years in prison with the possibility of parole at four.”

Her gasp made me roll my eyes.

“You have to go to prison, and you didn’t think that was information that I needed to hear?” she shrieked.

Okay, so I might should have called her.

But what difference did it make if she knew or not?

I would still have to go!

“I thought I’d tell you over dinner before I had to leave,” I admitted.

The less time that I had to deal with my family, the better.

They were all overprotective assholes who thought they knew better than me.

And honestly, maybe that was the case. Maybe they did know better than I did.

I didn’t know.

But I was allowed to make my own damn mistakes.

Which, apparently, they didn’t understand.

Would never understand.

“You thought you’d tell me over dinner…” She started saying something more, but I’d gotten into the good stuff about the girl. “Was this on the night that you were supposed to turn yourself into jail?”

I blinked, pulling myself out of the girl’s life long enough to respond to my mother’s question.

“Yes,” I said. “I go six months from now. That was the stipulation that I made with the prosecutor and the district attorney that I met with today. That I have enough time to get my affairs in order.”

She started talking some more about how unfair it was—it was—and I went back to looking into the girl.

I liked what I saw.

She wasn’t behind on her bills. She was up to date on her shots. She volunteered at an animal shelter. She went to school full-time and was always home according to her security camera feeds.

She did have a problem with her aunt, though. That I could tell very easily as I looked through her financials.

Twice a month, her aunt wired very large lump sums—fifty grand a pop—into two separate accounts. One that was in town and on the up and up, and another that was off shore, protected.

Well… it would be protected if she hadn’t had me looking into her.

Now, the idea of her taking money out of that account irked me.

Who was she? Was she a good person?

I wasn’t sure that she was.

Based on the attorney information I was able to pull up thirty minutes later, seems ol’ batshit crazy aunt would be kicked to the curb soon. If the girl—Wyett Alara Villin—had anything to say about it.

Well, I had something to say about it.

But first, I had a few things to do.

She would be perfect.

Thinking quickly, I went through everything, and composed an online ad just for her.

I’d post it to the ad sites around social media—but only she would be the one to see it.

Other applicants need not reply. I was only wanting one.

Live-in property & pet caretaker needed. Four-year minimum. Background check required. Generous compensation. Marriage of convenience required.

My eyes scanned the ad that I’d placed in the document.

Then searched for any hidden errors but found none.

This would work.

I knew it would.

I’d carefully selected one candidate. I’d narrowed it down from four to one.

I knew, without a doubt, it would work. I just had to set this up where it would be a perfect solution for her. Therefore, I was waiting for her to turn twenty-five when I knew she was going to take steps against her aunt.

“Listen, Mom,” I said. “I have to go. I have some things to do. Talk to you later. Bye.”

CHAPTER 1

What’s the most expensive thing you’ve ever broken. If you say condom, you’re going to hell.

-Wyett’s secret thoughts

WYETT

“You are seriously the most selfish little bitch I’ve ever met,” my aunt Stella sneered. “I gave you a roof over your head. I gave you food and care when you needed it most. I gave you a life, Wyett.”

“You sent me to boarding school on my dead parents’ dime,” I countered. “That doesn’t fucking count.”

“Language,” she hissed.

My brows rose. “So, you’re allowed to say ‘bitch’ but I’m not allowed to say