Yup, I know I’m in trouble 🙁
I am still playing with Kenzie and Roger’s Chronicle, was still playing with it in fact up to a few minutes ago when I realized what time it was. I didn’t want to leave you waiting again so I selected something that I hope you will enjoy.
An Anger Management Novel
So, she was a smart ass, he thought as he waited for her to stop staring down at the cheap planner on her lap. As Conner watched her, he couldn’t help but wonder if that planner was her pride and joy. When she lovingly caressed the imitation leather with her fingertips he realized that this was the saddest fucking thing that he’d ever seen in his life.
“Do you need a moment or can we get back to work?” he asked when it looked like she was going to break out a sniffle and reminisce about better days.
She cleared her throat and looked up. “What would you suggest, Mr. O’Malley?” she asked, slipping back into her minion role.
“That you join the twenty-first century,” he suggested, as he held his hand out.
When she only sat there, frowning at his hand, he wiggled his fingers in demand. “Your phone.”
“It’s upstairs,” she answered with that same robotic smile that he was starting to find deeply disturbing.
“What is it doing upstairs?” he demanded even as he pushed away from his desk and headed towards the stairs.
“I don’t use my phone while I’m working.”
“That’s real fucking helpful,” he said evenly as he took the stairs two at a time.
“Mr. O’Malley?” she called hesitantly when he reached the landing.
Since he never made a habit of explaining himself, he ignored her and headed for her room. In three long strides, he was in her room and heading for the nightstand where he found-
“What the hell is this?” he asked in confusion as he picked up what he prayed was a joke and looked it over.
“My phone,” she said, sounding embarrassed as she should be.
“It’s a flip phone,” he said, turning the ancient relic over in his hands as he tried to make sense out of what he was seeing.
Could this thing even send texts? he wondered as he flipped it open to find a tiny screen. This thing had to be fifteen years old, he thought absently as he started hitting buttons, curious to see what it could do. In a few seconds, he discovered that it wasn’t much. It could make calls, text, receive emails, and surf the web…sort of.
“Could I have my phone back?”
“No,” Conner said, fascinated that anyone in this day and age could get by with a phone like this.
As he searched through her phone, making note that they were only three contacts, a small collection of emails and even fewer texts he couldn’t help but wonder how much memory something like this had. His calculator probably had more memory than this thing, which would explain why she didn’t have much on the phone. Then again, he amended a few seconds later, maybe there was a reason for that.
“Is this your personal phone?” he asked, because he liked to have his suspicions confirmed.
“It’s my only phone,” she said calmly, but he detected a slight hesitation in her voice, one that was very telling.
He glanced up from her phone to take in the cheap skirt suit that she wore, noting that while it was obviously clean, it didn’t fit her. He quickly took in the rest of her belongings, two small bags that she’d probably picked up at a yard sale or a thrift store neatly placed by the door. He didn’t have to look in the bathroom to know that she probably only had the basics, hairbrush, nail clippers, toothpaste, etc.
In a few minutes, he knew everything that he needed to know about the small woman that was sharing his sentence with him. She was a neat, no nonsense kind of woman, and most importantly, she was desperate. She wasn’t going to cause him any problems, but just to make sure…
He looked down at her phone again, noting that the only contacts were the DA’s office that had hired her on his behalf, a number for a pizza place, and her landlord. There were no emergency contacts or anyone listed as, “Mom.” That made him curious.
“Are you an orphan?” he asked, moving onto her emails.
“No,” Kylie answered after a slight hesitation.
This was even more depressing than her contact list. Having seen more than enough, he closed the phone and tossed it on the bed. When he looked back down at the cute little thing doing her best not to look embarrassed, he realized something very important.
She needed him a hell of a lot more than he needed her.
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