Naughty Princess

10

Jace doesn't respond at first; Addison thinks her message might have been impolite, but she can't change it now. It's later in the evening, 5:30. After calming Grace down, they went for a walk around the streets, walking in small side alleys with wet blossoms drooping over tall fences.

The worry is creeping up her throat; she can tell Grace is trying to distract her, but the time keeps ticking by, and it's seeming more and more likely she will have to book a hotel, and then try the homeless hostels when her money runs out. Her stomach turns; every way she looks at it, she will be on the street for at least a week until she finds a job, and that's with her sparse resume as well.

'That's good with me. How about I meet you at Grace's? We can properly talk it over. I know you don't have much time. - J. Slate.'

Addison frowns a little, but that's an involuntary reaction. The relief is like a drug; it instantly makes the day brighter. Turning to where Grace sits beside her, she shows her the text. They're back in the car, nowhere else to go unless they want to go to a movie or get something to eat. Addison watches her face; Grace squeezes her eyes shut and mouths something, her shoulders loosening. Addison smiles a bit because, yes, at least now she wouldn't be on the street. Thank you, Grace's mother.

Her suitcases and bags were in the garage, so for the 40 minutes it took Jace to drive over, they waited with the radio on. This seemed like a goodbye, but Addison didn't feel like talking, and Grace was letting her steer the mood. The same songs played over and over; every station's jockey sounded the same. It was like a little game, counting how many times a song played and which jockey sounded like a different one. Grace was on her phone, probably playing her cat cafe game, but Addison left hers. She was tired; the jockeys laughed, and for some reason, it irked her.

Everything about Jace was sleek and metallic.

When he finally pulled up, she could tell it was him almost instantly. A black BMW, tinted windows that barely looked legal. When he wound the window down, she could see in the mirror that he was wearing a different suit. They sat like this for a minute, both in their cars. Grace was still and watching Addison, who didn't know how to move or breathe suddenly. Jace Slate, a guy who could probably buy the moon (maybe that was an exaggeration, but if anyone did it, it would be Slate), was waiting for her.

The maid position flashed in her mind, so did a maid's dress. She flushed and unbuckled her seat, turning to give Grace a kiss on the cheek. They would talk soon, she hoped. Maybe they could fix this, and it would be a funny story to look back on.

Jace was parked along the curb behind Grace's car, so the walk was quick, a bit too quick in Addison's opinion. She walked to the passenger side, feeling a bit shaky on her legs. The BMW was lovely, not a speck of dirt on its black sheen. She opened the door and looked inside at Jace. He smiled; it was tired but it made him look boyish, like his age, which for some reason made her more nervous. She sat down on the cream leather seat and closed the door. The car smelled of vanilla and was warm. She looked at him and then down at her hands, face reddening.

Damn Jace Slate for helping her.