Chapter 8

Chapter 8

The car pulled up to a cozy, old-school courtyard.

“My buddy’s restaurant. Decent grub,” Bowen said, hopping out and offering Aubree a hand like a true gent.

Aubree was surprisingly relaxed, thanks to Bowen keeping things laid-back.

“Thanks,” she said softly.

Alvin shot Bowen a side-eye. ‘Weren’t we hitting that fancy spot tonight?’

The place was cute, with a little garden out front that screamed charm.

The food was total win. The soup was so good Aubree grabbed a second bowl.

Funny thing-the dishes they ordered were perfect for a sensitive stomach, all warm and hearty. Pure luck? Who knew.

“Hey, Ms. Miller…” Bowen started, leaning in.

“Time for the real talk, Aubree thought.

“Just use my name,” she said with a grin.

Bowen chuckled. “Alright, Bree it is.”

That nickname hit her hard. Back at the orphanage, her sponsor, “Mr. Quinn,” sent her cash every month with a letter, always calling her Bree.

No one else ever did.

Aubree bit her lip but didn’t argue. “Sure.”

Bowen lit up when she went with it.

He said,”So, Bree, I heard you snagged a spot in Rithol Art School’s program. That’s dope! You’re into art, right? You know Alvin’s in your class, but his art grades? Straight-up rough. Got time to swing by our place on weekends to tutor him?”

Alvin’s jaw hit the floor. ‘Is he serious?’ He glared at Bowen like he’d lost his mind.

knew Alvin wasn’t bad at art-he was just lazy. Bowen

now he couldn’t believe some high

did I sign up for this?’ he

Bowen’s look shut him down. “Alvin,

smile said, “Don’t

‘Fine. Guess

was just as shocked. ‘For real? With Alvin’s family cash, they

for nothing,” Bowen added. “How’s 300 dollars

say how long the gig would run, but that’s 600 dollars a

Chapter 8

her. If she didn’t know better, she’d think Bowen knew she was broke and

leaned back, hands clasped, chill as ever. No rush, no pressure-just waiting for her

shoot it down. She was

just the money. It was

to make waves, then use Alvin’s family ties

business, that was not just money—it

with a nod, sealing the

phone. “Well, Mr. Turner, it’s late. Wanna swap numbers and

as ever.

totally sidelined, raised a hand like he was in

look. “Relax, Alvin. I’m

Uber,” Alvin muttered, backtracking

the bodyguards in the

ditching the kid to play taxi for a girl?” one

Alvin Turner’s classmate. Probably just being nice, right?” the

dad is nice to

Silence hit the car.

Turner’s way older than her. He’s not that crazy.

say Mr. Bowen

quiet. Then the first guy growled, “Man, Bowen’s

Bowen by

could stop traffic. Her

features that hit like a truck. His

in a plain tee and jeans, but on him? Straight-up model

She wasn’t bad-looking-hell, in her old life, Carmen was

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