A Job for a Friend

Amaya

Cleo stared at me for a long moment, and I could see the doubt in her eyes, the distrust, the anger that I had lied to her. And I knew where she was coming from. These people had let me into their lives, and how had I repaid them? By lying to them, by letting this stupid contract that I had never even signed dictate how I acted with them.

“Fine.” She rolled her eyes. “I won’t tell anyone for now. But you have some serious explaining to do, you understand?”

“I understand,” I replied. I would have said anything to her at that moment if I thought it would get her out of here.

“I’m keeping this,” she waved the contract in my face. “And I’m talking to my brother.”

“Sure, of course,” I nodded. “I’m sorry, Cleo. I’m sorry you had to find out about any of this.”

“Yeah, me too,” she replied grimly, and she paused for a moment, just staring at me, and a little sadness flickered over her face as though she was bidding farewell to the woman she’d thought she’d known when we had gone shoppin