Free Tidal by Emily Snow Page A

them
    because Kevin represented his son—and
    yet I felt like the walls were closing in
    around me. I felt trapped.
    “When are you planning to start your
    community service?” Office Stewart
    questioned.
    I grimaced. I should have known that
    one was coming. Swallowing back the
    lump in my throat, I croaked, “I’m not
    sure. What am I supposed to be doing,
    exactly?”
    “You’ll be working at Harmony
    House,” she said. Then she gave me the
    name and number of the person who’d be
    supervising me. “So, I’ll see you Friday
    morning, at 9:30?” she confirmed.
    “I’ll be there,” I said slowly, thinking
    of how embarrassing it would be to have
    my bodyguard take me to probation
    because I didn’t have a license. It could
    be worse, I reminded myself. Like asking
    Miller to escort me to the gynecologist or
    making him wait for me while I hooked up
    with someone in a hotel. I’d never been
    one for random hookups but I had friends,
    like Jessica, who had no problem having
    sex with a new guy every weekend while
    her bodyguard waited in the car or outside
    her hotel door.
    I looked down at my phone, wincing
    when I saw the time. It was 8:58 a.m. and
    I was supposed to meet Cooper in two
    minutes. I shot him a message letting him
    know I was running late then I sent Miller
    one telling him I’d be ready to go in five
    minutes. I changed quickly—today in a
    modest two piece that had been delivered
    with my things yesterday. Somehow, it
    managed to hide the telltale scar and
    accentuate my boobs at the same time.
    One of my hands was working on the
    button of my tiny yellow shorts and the
    other was cramming my face with a whole
    wheat waffle that tasted like overcooked
    cardboard as I ran outside to where Miller
    was waiting by the Kia. He shook his
    head, grinning and got into the driver’s
    side. My phone vibrated in my pocket and
    I held my waffle between my teeth to
    check it.
    Cooper had messaged me back.
    9:08 a.m. : You know that James
    Dickson won’t be so lenient when you
    stay out too late partying, right?
    I didn’t want to care what he thought I
    spent my spare time doing, but I found
    myself hesitating before getting inside the
    car to text him back. Thanks for the heads
    up, smartass. If my body wasn’t so tired
    from your “basics” I’d probably have
    gotten up on time.
    I slid the phone back into my pocket.
    The look on my face must have said it all
    because when I dropped down next to
    Miller, he cocked a dark eyebrow and
    scratched the back of his buzz cut. “You
    look like you just told someone off,” he
    said, as he began to drive.
    “Oh, I did.”
    “Let me guess, Billabong?” he asked,
    chuckling. When I shot him a look, he
    cringed and said in a serious tone, “Sorry,
    I keep forgetting that you decide whether I
    have a job or not. You’re just not what I . .
    .”
    “Expected?” I asked. My phone
    buzzed against my thigh again, and I felt
    my heart jump.
    “You can say that,” Miller said.
    “I’m actually quite charming,” I said.
    Then, I gave him a grin that was forced but
    sincere. “And you don’t have to worry
    about getting fired. As long as you don’t
    try to sell my dirty panties to Sleaze
    Police , we’re good.”
    “Gross.”
    “It’s happened before,” I said as I
    fished my phone out. It was still buzzing
    from incoming text messages. “You
    wouldn’t believe what some of these
    dickwads will pay for.” I didn’t add that
    the panty incident had happened to Jessica
    and that she’d been sleeping with the
    bodyguard who did the deed.
    I was more interested in Cooper’s
    newest responses.
    9:15 a.m. : So you’re saying you
    spent the night in bed with sore muscles,
    thinking about me?
    9:16 a.m. : I’ve got to say Wills, I’m pretty turned on.
    I rolled my eyes, ready to let him have
    it, but then another text came in. This one
    was from a familiar, old contact whose
    photo popped up when I clicked on the
    message. Strawberry blonde