Their Paid Girl

Their Paid Girl - Part 25

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          The next day I was out the door before Esther could do so much as think of waking up. I had a busy day planned with a lot to do, and if I was honest, a small part of me wanted to see two very special boys.

          One of them was an angel in a wheelchair.

          The other one had nothing even remotely angelic about him, which made no sense of the longing I felt to just catch a glimpse of that pair of electric blue eyes.

          Shaking my head at myself, I shouldered my heavy bag and pursed my lips as I manoeuvred through the hallways. It seemed like my attempts at talking myself out of liking Adam had been in vain – his face, no longer Jaime’s – had been the first one on my mind this morning.

          How very, very sad.

          Stubbornly directing my thoughts away from images of sculpted bodies and landscaped faces, I forced myself to think about my plans for the day. First of all, I had my shift at the bar. The campus newspaper had also approached me with a proposition for a spot as the sports columnist for them – apparently my article had taken a new angle on the football team, much to the delight of many males on campus who were envious of Adam. I was going to decline; nearly getting myself killed by Adam once was enough for me.

          I dropped by the newspaper office first.

          “Hey, Jeff,” I said easily.

          Jeff, who was the editor of The Beacon and the individual responsible for putting my picture underneath my article, looked up at the sound of my voice.

          I crossed my arms as I leaned against the doorway of the paper’s cluttered office. It was a truly awful mess in there; I had no idea how they managed to get anything done in it.

          “Shawna!” Jeff grinned, tossing aside the slinky he’d been playing with, and taking his feet off his desk to get up and hug me. He flipped his carefully smoothed hair out of his eyes. “Here for your first assignment?”

          I shook my head, smiling. “Nope. I’ve decided I’d rather live, after all.”

          Jeff gave a dramatic sigh. “You know, I’ve heard that the delectable Adam isn’t all that opposed to keeping you alive, either.”

          I raised an eyebrow. “Delectable Adam?” I repeated.

          Jeff wiggled his eyebrows in return. “Mmmm,” he murmured happily.

          “Whoa, easy there, big boy,” I laughed. “Last I checked, Adam doesn’t bend that way.”

          Jeff didn’t let that faze him; he professionally flipped his hair out of his eyes again before giving me a serious look. “Time will tell,” he said loftily.

          “Well then,” he announced, “Since you’re of no use to me, be gone!” he ordered, pointing at the door and grinning. “I’m busy.”

          I gave a pointed look at his abandoned slinky. “Yes, I can really tell.”

          “You and your sarcasm,” Jeff sighed enviously. “It’s no wonder that you and Delicious get along as well as the rumours report.”

          I frowned, my body already halfway out of the door. “And who might this Delicious be?” I inquired apprehensively. And why on God’s green earth was I involved in the campus rumour mill? That was a bad place to be, if you wanted to be unnoticed.