Page 44 of Every Step She Takes
As Karla walked over, my legs froze. I stood there, knees trembling.
Karla gave me this job. She treated me like a valued employee, not seasonal student help. And now I’d been photographed in a hot tub with her client, the man whose children she’d entrusted to my care.
“Lucy,” she said, her expression unreadable. She nodded curtly and waved for me to follow her. When I caught up, she held out a bag.
“Clothing,” she said, “and a few things I could grab from your room.”
“M-my clothing?”
She lifted a hand as headlights appeared. A wave, and the black SUV approached.
“Lucy?” a voice called.
Jamison stood on the front porch, still wearing his swim trunks, a towel draped over his thin shoulders.
“Lucy?” he called again.
“Hey, Jamie,” I said, forcing calm into my voice. “Is it time for bed? I just need to talk to Karla for a second. I’ll be right–”
Karla cut me short. “Let me get your dad, Jamie. I need to speak to Lucy.”
“Is something wrong?” His gaze flickered to me. He knew the answer. Jamison read emotions as naturally as I read sheet music.
“Nothing that has anything to do with you,” I said. “Just a little thing Karla and I need to talk about.”
She was already on her phone saying, “I think your son would like you to tuck him in, Colt.”
Her voice was pleasant, and she managed a rare smile for Jamison, but whatever Colt said made that smile vanish as she turned away, voice lowering.
“That is not as important as your son,” she hissed. “Get insidenow.”
She hung up and took a moment before turning back to us. “Your dad is coming, Jamie, and I’m just going to steal Lucy away for a chat, okay?”
Jamison nodded, but his worried eyes stayed fixed on me as he backed into the house and shut the door.
When Karla caught me staring at the closed door, she put her hand to my back in an awkward pat.
“He’ll be fine,” she said. “Isabella will look after him.”
I did not miss her wording. She might have ordered Colt to tuck in his son, but ultimately, the role of responsible parent fell to Isabella.
Isabella…
“I-I need to talk to…” I began.
I needed to confess to Isabella. To explain. To beg forgiveness. But if Karla could fix this, as Colt promised, then Isabella never needed to know about the kiss.
I imagined going back into that house, waking up and acting as if nothing had happened. Shame and guilt washed over me. I wanted to come clean. That was best for me. Best for Isabella, though?
No. Unburdening my sins was for confession, and that is what I would do. Confess to a priest. Confess to my mother. Confess to Nylah. I had to respect Isabella enough to keep this from her and make sure it never happened again. I’d learned this lesson as surely as if it’d been branded on my skin.
Karla steered me to the waiting car. We climbed in, and she gave the driver instructions. Then she flicked off the intercom and called his name, watching to be sure he couldn’t hear it. A nod of satisfaction, and as the car pulled from the curb, she turned to me.
“I have someone on this already,” she said. “It will be handled, but if there is anything you can tell me about the man who took the picture, that will help. We need to offer him more than the tabloids will.”
“I-I didn’t even know it was a man. I just saw camera flashes, and then Colt took off.”
She nodded. “All right. Then I need to ask you some uncomfortable questions.”
