Borrowed Souls (Soul Charmer #1)(58)
Her phone had rung an hour earlier. Yesterday had been her day off. Today was not, and she’d totally forgotten. “Shit, Lou, I’m sorry,” she’d answered.
“I thought you might be dead.”
“Dead? I already have a melodramatic mother. Give me a bit more credit.” She tried to tease. Easier than accepting the fact she might be about to lose her job.
“You come in on your day off, and now you’re missing work. You’re never late. What’s been up with you lately? Everything okay?” Lou’s words were truly devoid of judgment.
Callie glanced at the clock above the stove. Ninety minutes was more than late. “I’m really sorry. It’s just—” How was she supposed to finish that sentence? Lying to Louisa would wrap Callie in a fresh layer of guilt, and she could barely breathe through her shame swaddling as it was.
“Just life, honey. Don’t I know it.” Lou knew too much. “Your mama causing problems?”
“When isn’t she? I can’t believe I did this, though. Do you need me to fill in tonight?” Derek might be able to cover for her with the Charmer.
“No. We’re full up. You’re all right, though?” The question was benign, but the motherly underpinnings struck hard.
Callie had focused on the towel rack in lieu of the mirror while brushing her teeth earlier that morning. Whatever it took to ignore the faint bags under her eyes. That darkness hadn’t been borne in the throes of soul magic abuse. She didn’t get it from the emotional battery of gathering vagrant souls from temporary hosts or the hot-cold spectrum her skin had endured the last few days. No, her dark circles were earned the old-fashioned way. “Yeah, Lou. Just tired.”
Her boss was quiet for long enough that Callie had to confirm the call hadn’t dropped. Louisa’s words came slowly, but clearly. “I know that brother of yours is a problem. If you need a few days to sort it out, take them. I’m not going to give your job away.”
“Thanks.” Callie wasn’t sure she could accept. Her bank account wouldn’t appreciate the decision.
Lou understood screwed up families and the myriad ways they could destroy your life, but the olive branch only extended so far. “Don’t thank me yet. If you ditch on me again, though, I can’t keep you. Favorite or not.”
“Right.” Well, shit. The way Ford and the Charmer were running her, she needed the time. She could take it and ration the food she had in the pantry, or she could promise to show and risk failing and losing her actual source of income long term. “Can I take a few days? When I’m back, I’ll be my normal self.” God, she hoped she wasn’t lying.
An hour had passed and Louisa’s offer continued to feel surreal. Bosses being cool about employees not showing was a myth. Unless you were in a ditch, they weren’t supposed to tolerate such things. But somehow she’d earned that kind of trust, and now as she continued sweating out last night’s alcohol, she had to find a way to keep from fucking it up.
Breakfast would have been a good distraction, if she knew what to make. Lou made those decisions at work. At home it was on her, and she had a naked man in the other room to consider. Was Derek a breakfast eater? Would he expect the big, manly, eggs-and-meat meal she couldn’t provide? Her empty stomach gurgled a warning, a roiling notice of eat or puke. Decision time.
Turned out the Frosted Flakes came in a box that big for a reason.
Derek lumbered into the kitchen a little after ten. Despite the extra sleep, he didn’t look all that much more rested than she did. He did, however, look far better in low-slung jeans. A break on the bedhead was warranted.
“You got anything to eat?” The rasp of his voice was the deepest she’d ever heard it.
Callie gestured to the big box of sugary corn flakes she’d left on the counter. Her bowl was already rinsed and in the sink.
“Frosted Flakes, huh?” The corners of his mouth began to curl and his eyes danced with mischief. Perhaps last night hadn’t ruined everything.
“Best option in the house.” With her shrug she let go of the shame of not providing more for him. He’d gotten laid like a pro and she was making him smile the next morning. What more did a man really need?
He nodded. “It’s common knowledge they’re grrrreat.” His Tony the Tiger impression was spot on.
Her laugh chimed throughout the small space. When was the last time her laugh hadn’t been weighted with sarcasm or wrought from her gut without glee? As far as reasons for missing work went, Derek wasn’t a bad choice. “Bowls are in the cupboard next to the fridge, and spoons in the drawer directly below.”
His broad back worked, flexing and releasing fluidly, as he set about helping himself to the best cereal she had. An echo of the heat that had ensnared her before flickered in her abdomen, but she let it smolder. She wanted to believe there was a real connection between them, but she wasn’t going to risk botching that potential by leaping at him. He viewed her as strong, and regardless of her position on the matter, she wasn’t going to showcase weakness now. Putting her desire above keeping her brother alive would be pretty weak by anyone’s standards.
Derek leaned against her counter, cradling the bowl of cereal to his chest and ladling bites to his mouth. He was at home here. Pride flashed through her, making the fine hairs on the back of her neck rise. Her phone made a muffled honking noise as it vibrated against the countertop. Spell broken, she glanced at the screen, and then readjusted her gaze to the ceiling, trying to be patient. It didn’t work.