lked in that night. He was sitting languidly on the sofa, dressed in blue white-washed jeans and a black

ed with heat at his intense stare and I was angry at myself for responding that way to a man who’d treated m

ow stronger towards me. I was curious to find out, but one part of me–the par

e living room, and I could tell by the expression he didn’t bother to conceal t

is face. It put my panties in a twist that he was this handsome–blonde hair spilling over the side of his forehead, skin properly tan

worse for wear because of the earlier rush, but he didn’t have to make it look like I didn’t care

t the insults, payback for the ones I’d hurled at him. But then, I didn't know who he wa

riefly at her before my gaze flickered again, lingering for a little too

llow. Break them, and you might not live to see another day. One of them is that anytime I’m speaking, don

like punctuality. I take it as the next be

e of his voice, my l

stay inside this magnificent space? Everything in the living room gleamed with gold, except for the marble floor and the roof was glass like in a new

urine from nearby was the first thing that hit my nose. Rumpling my face like someone about to cry, I dropped my bag

n evident in her tone. She obvi

e back at home. How was I going to survive here? Magdalene nodded and left me to

walls were square and boring and there was nothing to hold on to apart from an old clock which hung

ed by Dominique. His voice carried across the wind to me, deep and soft and like the

ying up the porch steps. I reached the living room, panting like a dog e

Tacos? Haven’t heard that before. Was it the name of a local dish? And

don

for me,” he snapped, jolting me out from my thoughts. I shuffled my feet in the direct

start. There was no way in hell I could prepare tacos when I didn’t have any idea of the dish, or the ingredients used in preparing it. Sighing, I c

angry and physically lashed out at

dn't hear me because minutes passed by and he didn't reply, his gaze still on the magazine. Even

re you don’t want that.” His gaze levelled on mine as he said the last part and I

hoice. I returned

h a recipe–his forehead creased as he considered the taste. This was the moment of truth. I’d put in my best, I could only hope that Do

, sh

____

INI

ht into his silly idea of his daughter working for me to repay the money he owed me. How fucked up was that? Years ago when Mr. Shane and I had gone into business, I never thought things would go so a

daughter was going to suffer for it. She’d pay for the sins of her father with every sweat and

hat had stayed the longest–that his daughter had begun packing her bags and she’d be ready whenever

es for them to arrive and I counted every minute of every hour in my mind, staring at the huge grandfather clock on the wall.

ny, barely grazing five feet five inches, and her dirty black hair was braided down her waist. She wore a sleeveless floral gown with se

s apartment and I’d been furious by how carelessly she talked, hurling insults here and there. It was hard to believe she was the same person, her face meek like a day old baby. Fuck tha

e and at the moment, I didn’t need that negativity. The past was in the past and it had toughe