To Sir by Rachell Nichole Read Free Book Online Page A

him.
    “Fine, but we’ll do this my way.” He had the sudden urge to lay down the law. Call it the Alpha Male Syndrome, or his overbearing, control-freak, Dominant personality, but he had to have some reassurance that she wasn’t going to run off every time she didn’t like his answers or told him she wanted something she couldn’t handle. He wasn’t going to be painted the devil if she got scared.
    “Jeez, you’re bossy.” Her prissy tone made him smile. She had no idea. But God, he’d love to show her just how bossy he could be. His blood heated with the thought.
    “Do we have a deal or not, Ms. Clark?”
    “Yes,” she hissed.
    “Good. Meet me tomorrow at 5403 Cherry Circle.”
    “Why not at the club?” He might have imagined it, but he swore he heard a distinct note of disappointment in her voice. “I mean, wouldn’t it be easier there?”
    She was going to fight him every step of the way. And he could tell he was going to enjoy it. “The club’s still not back up and running yet. It’s better if we meet somewhere else, anyway. Someplace that won’t make you so…uncomfortable. Neutral territory, so to speak.”
    “Where are we meeting, then?”
    She couldn’t take anything on faith, could she? “My house.”
    “Neutral territory my rear,” she muttered. There were several things he wouldn’t mind doing to her rear, but being neutral about it wasn’t one of them.
    “It’s there or nowhere, Clark.”
    “What happened to the club?”
    It must be the writer thing—this rampant curiosity she had. Or maybe it was a lack of filter that prevented her from stopping whatever she thought from popping out of that heart-shaped mouth of hers.
    “Well, for some people, it’s all about the Benjamins. Nothing that won’t be cleared up in a few days.” He wasn’t lying to her, exactly. But he didn’t want to go into the details of the legal and financial issues they were having. He was going to fix it, damn it, even if it killed him.
    “And what’s it all about for you?”
    Every question she asked probed deeper into his life, poked a little closer to old wounds, and he didn’t know if he could keep dodging her.
    “That is a question for tomorrow. Four o’clock. Sleep well with your burgeoning tree, Ms. Clark.” He placed the phone back in its cradle barely long enough for it to ring again. He picked it up, half expecting it to be Ms. Clark, canceling their rendezvous. “Yes?” he said.
    “Chase?”
    “Yes.” He couldn’t identify the voice on the other end of the line. The day had made him weary, and all he wanted to do was sleep. But he knew he couldn’t.
    “Hey, baby brother. It’s Giselle.”
    His heart stopped. “What’s wrong?”
    His eldest sister never called him. Not with good news, anyway. “Everything’s okay. Well, um, I mean. Oh, shit. Family’s fine. Mom’s doing well.” Her voice trailed off. Wasn’t like Giselle to dance around the issue. As the oldest, she’d pretty much blazed ahead, no matter what was in front of her, since they were kids. He’d admired her for it in the past, but sometimes she forged a difficult path without thinking and landed herself headfirst into hot water that he’d had to help fish her out of.
    “Yeah, I know,” he said. “I talked to her this morning. She told me she was feeling better already. They’re releasing her from the hospital tomorrow.” It had almost fucking killed him to stay here while his mother had surgery last week, but there wasn’t anything he could have done for her at home. The rest of his family was closer, and they would take good care of her, or so they’d assured him when he’d said he would be driving home for a couple weeks. Giselle had flat-out told him not to come. “So what gives?”
    “They’re sending her into a rehabilitation clinic, not home.”
    “Yeah, I know. Giselle, cut the crap and tell me what gives, would ya?” He couldn’t handle the suspense any longer.
    “Well, it’s… Oh,