Knife & Flesh (The Night Horde SoCal Book 4) by Susan Fanetti Read Free Book Online Page B

Lucie’s clothes, though time constraints had her designing from scratch less and scouring thrift shops more for clothes she could remake. She could buy an outdated sack of a dress for four dollars and, with a couple of dollars’ worth of supplies, turn it into a fashion-forward party dress that would have cost hundreds at a boutique shop.
     
    Thrift shops were Juliana’s vice—and her saving grace. She had a home she was proud of and a fashionista wardrobe for herself and her daughter because she knew how to shop thrift, and because she knew how to turn a plain bolt of cloth into something beautiful.
     
    They’d made their meals and frozen what could be frozen. They’d chosen Lucie’s outfits for the week. And they were almost done with her own. Next was bath time, story time, and bed. Once Lucie was down, she could do her homework—no, wait. Summer session had ended last week. She had no homework until the fall session started up at the end of August.
     
    That should have been a relief—a rare few hours on Sunday that were just her own. But on this Sunday, Juliana would have welcomed the work that would keep her mind focused. She didn’t want the luxury of an unoccupied mind, because she didn’t want to think about Trick.
     
    She was right. She knew she was. A safe, stable life for herself and her daughter. She’d been working toward that for years. She couldn’t sabotage that.
     
    But she’d hurt him, and that hurt her. It shouldn’t, though; they barely knew each other.
     
    “Mami!”
     
    Juliana had been staring at the outfits arranged on her bed, her mind elsewhere. Shaking that off, she said, “Sorry, Lulu. What’s up?”
     
    “These for Friday.” Her daughter held up a pair of cognac sandals. She always picked those shoes to go with the dress they’d picked for Friday.
     
    “Those look great with the blue. Good choice!” Juliana refocused on her daughter and their routine. She’d have hours later to tear herself up over Trick.
     
     
    ~oOo~
     
     
    Half-past noon on Wednesday, Juliana went into the lunchroom at Shepard & Grohl and got her lunch from the refrigerator. Though it was the lunch hour, the room was empty; there weren’t many in the office who did more than run into this room to refresh their coffee throughout the day or to snag a doughnut or bagel in the morning. There was a food court on the first floor of the building, and most people ate down there.
     
    But Juliana ate here almost every day. She earned a decent income for a paralegal, but she was paying for college without student loans, and she was paying for a good preschool for Lucie and a decent babysitter on her school nights. And she was saving as much as she could—a college fund for Lucie, a mortgage fund for them both, a retirement fund for herself.
     
    Trying to be responsible, trying to make the right choices. Trying to be sure she could take care of herself and her little girl.
     
    So she shopped thrift and made their clothes; she cooked in bulk and packed their lunches. She drove a ten-year-old car.
     
    While she sat alone in the lunchroom, eating her reheated tamales, drinking a glass of ice water, and scanning the internet on her phone, her boss, Emily Garcia, leaned around the side of the open door.
     
    “Are the Dubrovs coming in this afternoon? They were on my calendar for one, and now they’re not.”
     
    Juliana shook her head, letting that be her answer while she finished chewing and swallowing. There was only one administrative assistant for the three attorneys in their division, so Emily expected Juliana to keep her calendar as well as do her case prep. “No, sorry. Mr. Dubrov called and cancelled while you were in the partners’ meeting.”
     
    “Did he reschedule? Their court date is Monday, and I’m in court the rest of this week.”
     
    “I reminded him of that. But he was calling himself, not his son, so understanding each other was tough.”
     
    Emily huffed. “Dammit, you