"Sometimes trust blinds us so much that we can't see the truth"
-
After being dragged to some boring dinner meeting, Scarlet meets Jackson Vanderbilt. From leaving dinner early to being kicked out her apartment, Jackson was by Scarlet's side. What...
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I stare at Jackson as he stood in the doorway of the house I grew up in. He had a large suitcase in his hand.
"What're you doing here?" I ask in a quiet voice. I held myself back from shutting the door on him.
"You thought you'd just put me to the side until Monday?" he chuckles in a low voice, "Not a chance, Beautiful."
Before I can say anything, my mother walks towards the door, "Who's at the door?" Mom looks at Jackson and smiles.
My mother pulls him in for a huge hug as if she has known him for years. Jackson's hug is just as enthusiastic as my mother's. This is- what is happening.
"It's so great to meet you, Mrs. Thompson," Jackson says, flashing a smile.
"Please, call me Ella," My mother corrects, "Come on in, you've gotten all wet."
So have I - in a different way of course.
I shake my head to clear the thoughts of the devil on my shoulder.
Jackson and I follow my mother into the kitchen. Jackson sits at the breakfast bar. I don't think watching my mother interrogate Jackson is really on my watchlist right now, so I walk to the pantry to look for something to eat.
Shuffling through the pantry, I can hear my mother asking Jackson questions, but I'm too distraught to make sense of what she's asking. How the fuck did Jackson even find this address.
The only good thing my mother has are Twizzlers. I take out a strip and sit next to Jackson.
"Jackson, where are you staying?" My mother interrogates.
"I was going to find some hotel around here," he answers.
My mother's face drops and she immediately says, "Nonsense. We have a guest room or you can sleep in Scarlet's room."
"Are you sure? I wouldn't want to intrude?" Jackson asks, acting like a gentleman.
"Of course you can stay," Mom smiles, "Scarlet, why don't you go show Jackson your room and the guest room."
No way in hell. He's probably going to try to punish me while we're alone, "I was going to start cutting the salad."
"I can do that. Go show him his room," she pushes.
Sighing, I walk upstairs as Jackson follows me. I don't turn to look at him. I hope Jackson's stair climbing skills are better than his reading skills.
I don't bother going to my room instead I go right to the guest room. Even back at Jackson's house we sleep in separate rooms - except for my first time with him.
