Estranged • h.s.

11

CECILY

"All I said was that you shouldn't enjoy pissing him off as much as you do."

I roll my eyes at Zayn, my feet resting on the edge of his desk. "Don't be such a baby, it's funny."

"He isn't going to think it's funny."

I turn my hands over, palms facing upward as I look at him with a 'that's the whole point' look. He shakes his head, continuing to type incessantly on his huge calculator. Nine times out of ten, he doesn't look like a man who runs an entire multi-million dollar company, but when he's doing payroll? Yeah, no question.

I plop my feet down, each of them slamming to the floor while I lean over Zayn's desk and steal a a few grapes from it. He says nothing but looks at me side-eyed with a small smirk.

When I first got back to Zayn, I refused to eat for a few days. He had to literally shove food down my throat, in the most loving way possible. The first thing I willingly took was a bowl of grapes he offered me, because even when healing from the worst experience of your life, who can say no to them? Superior fruit.

I pop one in my mouth, watching him work away on the total for my paycheck. The old man loves to do his own math but at least he still directly deposits the money. He started doing this when he paid me completely under the table for my safety, but now I don't really give a shit if Jackson finds me. I'm hoping he has the balls to do so.

With a couple of final smacks onto the calculator, he sighs with content, giving me a smile.

"How'd I do, boss?"

"$7, 384.47. How'd you do in cash tips?"

I shrug my shoulders, putting the grape in my mouth into my cheek to talk. "About five grand."

"Not bad for a week, E."

I huff out a laugh. Not bad at all. Zayn pulls in at least a hundred grand a month just from the club, and considering I pull in on average thirty percent of that? I've never been this rich in my life. A substantial amount of it goes right to Kate, for her and my nephew. But that's really all I have to worry about. Zayn lets me live basically for free and I don't have a car.

"It'll be in tomorrow morning, probably by the time you're off work."

I give him a thumbs up, chewing my final grape before standing to my feet. I'm still dressed in my show rehearsal clothes, the cropped shirt and shorts certainly not cutting it since the club will be open in less than an hour.

"Don't forget to put him to work," I say, turning around with an evil look in my eye before waving goodbye. The club is full of people running around, getting ready for another night of havoc. Bartenders rush past me with crates of dishes from the back, others stocking the bars already. I head back to my dressing room, a shower the only thing on my mind. Well, that and the pure satisfaction I'm gonna get later when Harry has to work with Liam by himself for watch and clean up.

I nearly skip with joy to my room, passing by a few familiar faces with a smile.

The only thing that could ruin this is somehow missing the look on Harry's face when he has to drive with Liam later tonight all by himself. I've tasked Liam with taking the long way and putting in absolutely zero work.

I slip into my room, throwing my phone on the table to my right while blindly shutting the door. I kick off my tennis shoes but immediately feel my spine stiffen as I sense someone else in the room. I make no sudden move, continuing to lean down to pull my socks off but grabbing a throwing star off the bottom shelf of the table.