Georgina, we're leaving."
The woman stood up as Georgina followed me out of the room. "Just so you know, Mr. Kline. She's not welcome here anymore. Good girl finding a foster home for an insolent girl like her."
"Good luck becoming a better human," I told her. "Doesn't take a genius to work out you need some help in that department."
Georgina gathered her things and followed me into the car silently clutching her battered suitcase of meager possessions. I vowed to make things better for her then and there, but for the time being, she'd have to spend the night in the penthouse.
"Are you okay?" I asked on the drive back, and she nodded, staring out of the window. "Where did that woman hit you?"
"On my arm," she muttered.
"Does it hurt?" She just shrugged. "You can stay with me tonight. Then we'll work on finding you a foster home as soon as possible. You have an aunt, right?"
"She has four other kids," Georgina admitted. "She probably doesn't want me around."
I thought of writing a woman a hefty check. Surely that would change her mind.
"Thank you for letting me stay with you," Georgina said in a small voice as we pulled up in front of the building. "I appreciate it, and you didn't have to."
"Of course I did," I cut in smoothly. "Now come on, let me show you to your room."
She stared in wonder at her surroundings as I took her up with the elevator. I gave her one of the kids guest rooms in the apartment, and she seemed delighted to be staying there, sending pangs of guilt through my mind. I wanted her to stay forever, but I could never be a foster parent. It would be too heartbreaking for me.
"I'll see you in the morning and we can talk about a more permanent solution," I told her, and she nodded, not meeting my eye. I lingered in the doorframe. "Are you hungry?"
She looked up, swallowing. "They didn't let me have dinner tonight because I misbehaved."
"Come on," I motioned for her to follow me, doing my best to ignore the rage I felt at how they'd treated her at that orphanage. "I'll make you my famous carbonara."
She giggled. "It's past midnight..."
"Doesn't matter, if you're hungry, you're hungry."
I led her into the kitchen and she sat on one of my bar stools while I made the food.
"You didn't decorate for Christmas," she said, glancing around the room.
"I was too sad," I admitted. "Christmas reminds me of... that woman I told you about."
She nodded, looking wiser than her eleven years. "Maybe you will have more Christmases with her."
"With your help, I just might." I presented her with a plate laden with pasta. "And voila. Bon appetit!"
She dug in with gusto, and I made a plate for myself too, digging into the meal. I liked having Georgina around. It made me feel less alone.
But I knew this wasn't a permanent solution. The girl deserved a real family, not a bachelor like me. I vowed to call her aunt the next day and figure out a place for her to stay. I owed that to her, at least.
Chapter 19
Amicia
The year was coming to an end. It had been almost a week since I'd left Grayson's apartment in tears. I'd waited until he fell asleep before sneaking out, leaving my gift for him under the Christmas tree we'd decorated together. Every day since then, I'd regretted my decision.
With a heavy sigh, I opened the doors to the theater. An all-too-familiar sight awaited me—dozens of girls vying for a single role, one that would likely slip through my fingers just as all the others had. But I was determined this time.
A year ago, Grayson Kline surprised me by keeping true to his promise. He paid for my time spent with him, and the money arrived in my bank account a few days after Christmas. At first, I wanted nothing to do with it. I marked it in my head as dirty money and refused to touch it.
For two months, the money remained untouched in my bank account. But after another failed audition and being close to thrown out of my newly rented apartment, I told myself I earned that money fair and square.
I used it to pay for a few months’ rent in advance and some dance classes, which I excelled in. The money stayed in my account and I only took out the bare minimum needed to pay for my dance instructor.
Soon enough, I had