Reaper's Legacy (Reapers MC, #2)(73)

ME: Who? :->

KIMBER: Don’t be a dumbass. Thats Rugerss job. Did he freak?

ME: Thats the creepy part. He didn’t

KIMBER: Seriosly?

ME: No. He texted and asked me if I was ok. I said yes. He asked where I was

KIMBER: U tell him?

ME: Yes. He’d figure it out anyway

KIMBER: Huh … thats weird. After what happeed Sat night, that’s a total turn around. I expected him to come chase u down and drag you back—you know, like a cavman or something

ME: I know. I was expectign more too. Makes me nervous

KIMBER: Ha! U WANTED him to be pissed!

ME: No … maybe? Its stupid. I have a job interview tomorrow afternoon. Recpetionist at a dental clinic. Right near the school

KIMBER: Woooot wooot!!!!! Dont change the subject

ME: Hey! I need a job more than I need to talk about Ruger

KIMBER: This is about ME, babe. I need gossip. U owe me. Iwatched ur kid AND I got you drunk. Entertain me





CHAPTER TWELVE




“Sophie, I’m so sorry, but Dr. Blake is still running late. Can you stick around a little longer, or should I see if he can reschedule? I hate to pressure you, but he’s really hoping to make a decision tonight, and you’re the last interview … We’re pretty desperate.”


“No problem,” I said, smiling brightly at the flustered hygienist behind the counter. It was a big f*cking problem. Noah would be out of school in an hour and I needed to be there to pick him up. But I also needed to be able to buy food to feed him, too, and after the first three months this job came with health care and sick leave … not to mention dental. I hadn’t had my teeth checked in four years.

“Are you sure?” asked the hygienist. Her name was Katy Jordan, and for the past hour I’d been sitting in the waiting room, watching her juggle patients and the phone. Apparently their old receptionist left without giving notice because of a family emergency, the temp was a no-show, and the doctor’s assistant had gone home at ten that morning throwing up. A mother with two kids sat next to me, obviously impatient. She’d been waiting nearly forty minutes for her appointment to start and things were getting tense.

“I’ll make a quick phone call,” I told her.

“Sounds great,” she said. “Mrs. Summers? Are you ready?”

The woman beside me stood and coralled her children, herding them into the back. I stepped outside the office, which was in a lowlying, mixed-medical building. Kind of like a mini-mall for doctors, although classier, with fancy landscaping, cedar siding, and covered walkways.

I tried Elle first. No answer. I tried Kimber, too. Nothing. I called the school to see if he could go to the after-school program for a day, only to learn he needed to be formally enrolled to participate, something I’d have to do in person, at the district office.

That left me with the girls from the club or Ruger … and the girls from the club weren’t authorized to pick him up at the school. I could change that, of course. All I had to do was fill out some paperwork at the school office.

In person.

That left Ruger.

I hadn’t had any communication with him since Sunday morning, aside from that one text asking if I was okay. I punched his number and waited. The phone rang long enough, I thought I’d get voice mail. Shit … Then he answered.

“Yeah?”

He didn’t sound particularly friendly or welcoming. More like the old Ruger, the one who looked through me like I was furniture. I suppose that’s what I wanted. It didn’t feel good.

“Um, hey,” I said. “I’m really sorry to do this, but I have a favor to ask. For Noah.”

“Yeah, you always have favors to ask,” he said, his voice almost a growl. “Yet I still answer the damned phone when you call. Tryin’ to figure out why.”

“Are you working this afternoon?”

“Yup.”

“Any chance you could duck out long enough to pick up Noah at school? They keep moving back my job interview. If I have to leave, I’m probably going to lose my shot here.”

He sighed.

“Yeah, I can move things around here,” he said. “How late do you think you’ll be?”

I paused, hating every second of this.

“I don’t know,” I finally said. “At this rate, it might be toward the end of the day. I need to meet with the doctor. He had some sort of emergency earlier and now they’re running behind. He’s just trying to fit me in between patients at this point.”

“Okay, I’ll take the rest of the day off, bring him back to my place.”

“Thanks, Ruger.”

“It’s what I do,” he said, hanging up. I looked down at the phone, wondering how such a great guy could be such an * slut at the same time.

Then I pasted my “Hire me, I’m friendly and competent!” smile back on and returned to the waiting room.

By four thirty I still hadn’t done my interview. I’d pretty much given up on it, because there’d been a second emergency. A high school girl knocked out half her front teeth during soccer practice. She’d been hysterical when her coach rushed her in, bloody towels pressed to her face. The other patients watched in fascinated horror as Dr. Blake himself came out to fetch her, bustling her back into the treatment room.