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#Chapter 8 - The Contract

Evie How am I supposed to focus when he just looked at me like I should be pitied? I am not going to accept his pity. Not now. Not ever. “I know that I can’t ever make up for what I did,” he says after a few minutes of silence, twirling a fancy fountain pen between his fingers. “But hopefully, this at least helps.” “Hopefully what helps,” I mutter quietly, flipping to the next page of the contract lazily. He quietly sets down the pen on the surface of the table. “This,” he answers. “Becoming your client. I heard that you were struggling and wanted to try and help you out.” Once again, he is pitying me. “I was doing fine,” I grumble. “I didn’t need you to save me like some maiden in distress. This isn’t a fairytale and you aren’t some knight in shining armor.” “I know you don’t want my help, Evie,” he chuckles. “But between this and your waitressing, I thought you could use the helping hand. I laugh bitterly. “I know you can’t,” I tease. “You barely have to work f

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