The Mercenary Next Door (Rogues and Rescuers #2) - Lucy Leroux Page 0,58

what it takes to run in those circles, even when you’re just visiting.”

She gave him a languid smile. “I still feel stupid. My mother always said to keep something tucked away for emergencies. I did try, but I don’t think she ever factored in the cost of living in Los Angeles.”

“Your stepmom, right? Your birth mother died when you were little.”

Laila’s thick lashes fluttered. “How did you know that?”

“I listened.”

The little line between her brows deepened. “We never talked about her. About them.”

Mason hesitated, wondering if he should explain…and eventually said ‘fuck it’. He wasn’t going to hide how he felt about her. Not anymore.

“I meant I listened when you were on the phone. Sometimes it was in the hall, but, more often, it was in the laundry room. You talked there a lot—I’m assuming it had better reception than your shoebox of a studio.”

“You’re right,” she said slowly. The confusion didn’t clear. “But why were you listening?”

Mason took a deep breath. Stop. You’re pushing too hard… If he wasn’t careful, she was going to pack her bags in the morning and decide to crash at Rosamie’s. He knew her. She’d sleep on the floor if she had to.

But this was Laila. She deserved the unvarnished truth.

Mason took a deep breath, trying to dance on a fine line. “You think I didn’t see you when we lived in the same building. But I did. I saw you. I watched you all the time—I just waited for when you weren’t looking.”

“Sure you did.” Laila wrapped her arms around her knees. It was obvious she didn’t believe a word he was saying.

He decided to prove it. “Your mom has memory problems, right?” he supplied, hoping he wasn’t making a mistake.

Laila stilled. Wordlessly, she nodded.

“Is she in some kind of home?”

Her mouth dropped open. “Yes. In Chicago…she has early-onset Alzheimer’s.”

Fuck. He hadn’t known the diagnosis was that bad.

Mason inched closer. “That’s rough. It must be even worse having to work yourself through school because all your dad’s money goes to her care.”

Laila gave herself a little shake. “All right, I know I didn’t talk about that in the laundry room.”

“No, that time you were at work in the break room of Gardullo’s,” he said. “I used to swing by to check on you after you moved. I thought you weren’t there, so I decided to do some actual shopping. Turns out, you were in the break room. I was going to say hi, but I caught you in the middle of a phone call. You were upset, and I didn’t want to intrude. I think you were talking to your stepmom’s family. Someone was complaining about the amount they had to pay for the care facility because your dad’s insurance doesn’t pay for the whole thing.”

The woman had been talking so loudly he could hear almost everything she had said on her end.

“No, most of it, but not all,” Laila replied. “Paula, that’s my stepmom’s sister, contributes the rest…but at least she does it. I’m grateful for that, even if she does complain about it sometimes, especially when the insurance company payment is late.”

“They don’t pay it directly?”

“It is supposed to be an electronic transfer every month, but you’d be surprised how often it’s late. Paula makes me call them when it is. She has two kids, and she can’t spend hours on the phone haranguing them.”

And you’re a student working your way through school on your own. But she expects you to do it?

“I miss hearing you sing in the shower,” he told her.

There was amusement in her eyes. “I don’t sing in the shower.”

“You used to,” he said quietly. “I think the vent from your bathroom connects up to my bedroom. If I were quiet, I could hear you. I especially liked you doing En Vogue.”

Laila’s lips twitched, but she caught herself, her hand fluttering up to her mouth. Smiling must hurt.

Mason reached up to touch her chin, just under her split lip. He hated to change the tenor of the conversation, but there were things he needed to know.

“Tell me why this happened.”

“I’m not sure.” Her hand fell to her side. “I told you Joseph hadn’t been around much, but when I tried to call him on it—on him not coming home—he would say he got caught up in frat business. Not always, though. Sometimes, he tried to convince me that he had come home. I am a sound sleeper, so he convinced me that I hadn’t heard him once