Bliss by Kaylee Ryan Page 0,50
I do, but this was a lot.”
“Baby, my contract was for fifteen million.”
“Yes, but that has to last you. And there’s taxes and living expenses and—” I place my hand over her mouth.
“Fifteen million a year for five years.” Her eyes widen. “How did you not know that?”
“I don’t know. You never mentioned the amount, just that it was a sweet deal, and I went with it. It wasn’t my place to ask.”
“If it involves me, it is your place. Make it your business, Reese. Me… make me your business.”
“That’s… a lot of money.”
“It is. We’re going to invest and spend wisely, and we should be set for life. Especially when you add in my endorsement deals.”
“He’s kind of a big deal, Ms. Reese,” a groggy Jeff tells Reese.
“You.” She chuckles softly. “I thought you were sleeping.”
“Just resting my eyes.”
“Come here, you.” She pulls him into a hug, and I can visibly see him relax into her hold.
These kids are starved for love and affection, and my girl, she’s giving it to them in spades. I’m so damn proud of her, and I cannot only see but empathize with her frustration with the system. There is so much more she could be doing. So many more kids she could be helping.
When we make it back to the home, Reese and the other staff help guide the kids inside. I stay back with Sam and Dorothy. “I can’t thank you both enough for today. I know it was last minute and it was a long one, but it’s a day those kids will never forget.”
“Son, we were happy to be a part of it. It’s a good thing you did.” Sam nods.
“Thank you. This is for you.” I reach into my pocket and pull out the two-hundred-dollar tip I set aside for them.
“That’s not necessary. We had just as much fun as they did,” Sam tells me.
“It’s true. That little one, boy, oh boy, he reminds me of our grandson. Today was good for the soul,” Dorothy adds.
“Please, I insist. I could not have pulled this off without your services. Thank you.”
Sam shakes his head, so I reach out and slide the bills into his shirt pocket. “Be safe driving home,” I tell them, stepping off the bus. I’m halfway to the door when Reese steps out. Her purse and laptop bag slung over her shoulder.
“I’ll drive,” I tell her.
“I have to be back in the morning.”
“I know. I’ll drive you. Come on.” I hold my hand out for her and she takes it with ease.
The drive home is quiet. I have so many things on my mind, plans I’m making, wishes I’m wishing, that I’m lost in my head. When we pull into the parking lot of her building, and I turn off the truck, I glance over to see her watching me.
“What you did today, Coop, I know it was meant to be for the kids, but it meant so much to me. The fact that you listen to me when I talk, that you took action to make a memory for those twelve boys that they will never forget…. It’s a day I will never forget.”
“I didn’t do it just for them. I did it for you too. I know them being cooped up weighs heavy on your mind. I know you were worried about them not getting to experience life. It was something small I could do for you and for them.”
“It was perfect,” she says, covering a yawn.
“Come on. Let’s get you to bed,” I say as she reaches for her handle to climb out of my truck.
“I need a shower.” She yawns again as we enter her apartment.
“Me too.” Is it too much to hope she’ll ask me to join her?
“I’ll make it quick,” she says, moving down the hall.
I guess I got my answer. Making sure the door is locked, I go to my room, the one I no longer sleep in and strip down to my underwear, grabbing a clean pair to sleep in. Walking across the hall, I plug my phone in to charge and then head back to the living room to grab hers and do the same thing. All while, I’m trying to ignore the fact she’s naked and wet just behind the bathroom door. I stand outside the door, tempted to join her, but think better of it. The water shuts off, and I high tail it back to her room, so I’m not busted creeping outside the bathroom