Mess Me Up Read online

  Tomorrow—or later today—I’d have to contact my lawyer and get some papers drawn up to make sure that this was all done legally. It wouldn’t surprise me one bit if Tara tried to come back and shake me down for more cash by making it out like I was the one in the wrong and not her.

  “Daddy?”

  I looked down at my son.

  “Yeah?” I asked, trying to drag my thoughts off of Tara and the awful person that she was.

  “Mommy usually calls the cleaning lady to come clean up after me when we are at her house. Can we call her? I like her.” Matias said suddenly.

  I blinked. “You like her?”

  “Yes. Her name is Isadora.” He paused. “She brings me cookies. And she makes sure that they’re the kind that’ll still taste good in two or three days because that’s how long it usually takes for me to get hungry again.”

  I felt my heart warm at that.

  “You didn’t make a mess…but I’ll call her if you want me to. I’m sure she can just do a general cleaning.” I hesitated.

  I was all for doing anything that made my boy smile, so if he wanted Isadora here, I’d find a way to make that happen.

  “Are you going to work tomorrow?” he questioned.

  I closed my eyes and thought about my job.

  I’d taken a position at the prison as a guard. Not because I needed to work, but because I was fuckin’ bored.

  I’d originally planned on hiring on at the police station, but with Matias being so sick, I needed something with more flexible hours.

  “Not tomorrow,” I told him. “But I’m supposed to go back to work on Thursday. I’ll have to see about finding someone to cover that shift.”

  Matias didn’t ask why.

  And that feeling in my chest grew.

  He knew that Tara wasn’t coming back. I didn’t know how he knew, but he did.

  “Don’t quit.”

  I looked down at my boy who still had the phone blasting away, but his eyes trained solely on me.

  “I don’t know that I have a choice,” I admitted. “Without…” Tara. “Someone needs to watch you, and…”

  “We’ll figure it out,” he said solemnly. “We always do, don’t we, Daddy?”

  Yeah, we fuckin’ did.

  I moved until my head was resting on a new package of toilet paper, the length of my body spread out along the tub, my feet next to the toilet. “I love you, Ty-Ty.”

  Matias’ eyes took me in, and finally, he smiled. “I love you, too.”

  ***

  Dear Rome,

  I can see how your life would be complicated. What I don’t see is how you waste what you’ve been given.

  In my previous letter, I was in no way saying that you led a glamorous life, I was just saying that you’ve definitely got possibilities that I’ll never have.

  I have a boring job, one that doesn’t require a college education, or really require any skill at all to do.

  It was never my intention to belittle your life, and I’m sorry if it came across that way.

  I’m also sorry to hear about the paparazzi and your ex. Neither one sounds good.

  One day I hope you find your happy.

  From,

  RP’s Biggest Fan

  Chapter 2

  A Southern goodbye is saying goodbye twenty times and exchanging four hugs as you slowly inch your way toward your car.

  -Izzy’s secret thoughts

  Isadora

  “Hey there, Isadora Rosalynn Solis.”

  I looked over at my brother and raised an eyebrow at him.

  “What do you want?” I asked carefully.

  Oscar grinned. “I have a last minute clean for you. It’s the football player’s house.”

  I felt my heart jump into my throat.

  “What?” I asked, feeling my stomach drop.

  “The football player’s house. The one that you love.”

  I flipped him off. “Fuck you.”

  I didn’t love the football player. I loved the football player’s house. Big difference.

  When our family had moved to Bear Bottom from El Paso, one of the places that had been on the listings sheet had been the house that the football player now owned. It was a mini-mansion, and while it was something that we definitely noticed and even walked through, it was also something that we could never have dreamed of affording.

  But that didn’t stop me from admiring it.

  “I usually clean her house on Wednesday, but she hasn’t called yet.” I paused, a scary roll of fear pouring through my gut. “Did she call?”

  Oscar shook his head. “No, Rome Pierce called and gave me the address. He’s the dad, correct?”

  I nodded.

  “Then maybe they just moved the boy to his house?” he offered.

  I doubted it. The mother of that cute little boy was a real witch. There was no way that she’d have allowed the football player to move the little boy there.

  Unless she was getting something out of it…

  “What time do they want me there?” I asked carefully.

  Oscar checked his watch. “In twenty minutes.”

  I looked up at the ceiling. “Oscar…”

  “What?” he asked, sounding annoyed with my tone of voice.

  “You can’t just spring a cleaning job on me in twenty minutes.” I paused. “I’m still in my running clothes for God’s sake.”

  Oscar shrugged. “Since you’re already sweaty, who cares?”

  He had a point, but still.

  “When did the call come in?” I paused. “And why me?”

  Oscar gave me that ‘are you stupid?’ look. “The call came in this morning before I was here.” Which meant fucking seven in the morning at least, and it was now ten. “And they asked for you.”

  Everyone asked for me.

  I didn’t know why.

  When my parents had started this cleaning business years ago, they’d had multiple people on staff. They had started their first cleaning service in El Paso and all of the children were expected to help. Once we were old enough to get to the jobs on our own, we were officially ‘hired’ and forced to work with them for ‘real.’

  And from that day forward, I started to get requests.

  I didn’t know if it was because I was nicer than everyone else because I had to try so hard to be personable, or because I just got the job done faster because my co-workers cleaned just as well as I did.

  Whatever the reason, I was the employee requested most often, and I was always freakin’ tired from all the extra work I was being forced to do.

  “I wouldn’t have run this morning if I had known that I was supposed to work,” I told him. “Not to mention now I don’t have time to go change if I want to make my four o’clock appointment with Abuela’s knitting group. It’s unprofessional.”

  Oscar shrugged. “Who gives a shit.”

  I didn’t bother to try and convince him or change his mind. My brother was a stubborn little shit and always had been.

  I could argue with him until I was blue in the face, and it still wouldn’t change a thing.

  I learned that the hard way.

  “If you hurry, you can stop by your favorite store and get yourself a cup of water.” Oscar shooed me with his hand.

  My favorite store being Sonic, and it wasn’t a cup of water that I got there—it was a lemon slush.

  My brother didn’t know me well at all.

  Or maybe he did, but he just didn’t care enough to get my interests right.

  Whatever the reason, I didn’t have time to waste.

  That little boy had a special place in my heart, and I wouldn’t pass up a chance to see him.

  Looking at my watch, I realized that I’d have just enough time to stop and get some of Abuela’s cookies if I left right then and skipped going to Sonic.

  Which was exactly what I did.

  Thirty-one minutes later, I
arrived at the mansion that I loved and tried not to drool.

  The place was so beautiful. It looked almost haunted with its Victorian design.

  Huge pillars held up an even taller front porch. Stately trees shaded the house from view until you were standing almost directly in line with the driveway—which I did upon occasion because I thought it was so beautiful. Honestly, it reminded me of the Adam’s Family house. I almost expected Lurch to answer the door with a “You rang?” the moment I pressed the doorbell.

  I waited on jittery feet, hoping that I wasn’t dressed too badly.

  Honestly, it was just black workout pants from Victoria’s Secret, black tennis shoes, black socks, and a plain black racerback tank.

  There really was nothing wrong with it…unless I was going to the football player’s home.

  Then I would rather have been wearing long sleeves, jeans, and combat boots with my hair braided in a plait down my back.

  Instead, I looked like I was a cheerful, approachable person—which I most assuredly was not.

  I, Isadora Solis, was not a people person. At least when it came to sexy football players that made my stomach feel like it had a hive of bees residing in it.

  And as I’d found out, this particular football player did that more than most.

  I’d seen him for the first time in person at the gas station when he’d been filling up his motorcycle.

  At first, I didn’t get a good glimpse of him. He’d been hidden by the gas pumps, and what I could see of him, which was the top of his head, wasn’t anything all that great.

  His head had been shaved, and I couldn’t even make out the color of his hair because it’d been so short, although it appeared to be dark.

  I’d gone about my business, going inside to find something to eat. It’d been when I made my way to the candy section when I saw him, again.

  His back had been partially to me, and that was when I’d seen his leather vest.

  He was in a motorcycle club.

  The top rocker had read Bear Bottom Guardians.

  Then there was the psychotic looking bear just like the ones I’d seen on the other Bear Bottom Guardian members’ backs. I’d heard that the cuts had changed recently, and the bear that now was centered on it was drawn by one of the members.

  The bottom rocker said Bear Bottom, Texas.

  All in all, that hadn’t been what had made him so intimidating though.

  It’d been his eyes.

  They were an almost translucent blue that made my heart race.

  The color of a wolf’s eyes.

  And, as I stood on his porch, I mentally prepared myself for the power of that gaze. Which was why I’d managed to stifle my gasp when he answered the door…shirtless.

  “Sorry,” he said. “I thought you were a friend. Come in.”

  I blinked. “I’m with Pixie Dust Cleaning Services.”

  He smiled then, showing off a row of perfectly white teeth. “I know. I’ve seen you before.”

  He had?

  I smiled tightly. “Cool. Is…Is Matias here?”

  I had a bag in my hand, and I wanted to give him the cookies if he was here. If not, I’d give them to the father and hope that they got to him.

  “Yeah,” Rome Pierce, the sexiest man in Bear Bottom—or hell, maybe even the United States—said. “He’s in the living room.”

  Swallowing my fangirling—and yes, I was a freakin’ fan—I followed the shirtless hunk until we reached the living room.

  Further proof of just how beautiful and enticing Rome was that I didn’t look around the house and instead looked at him.

  God, I was such a loser.

  Not only had Rome Pierce been my favorite football player—and I didn’t even like football—he was also a really good dad. When I talked with Matias while I was cleaning his mother’s house, I always heard how much he loved his dad and what an awesome guy he was.

  It also helped his case that he said this in front of his mother, who, might I add, I disliked with every fiber of my entire being.

  Rome’s big body led the way through the massive house, through two rooms, down a hallway, to arrive at the sunniest room in the entire place. I looked around as I walked, liking the house even more from the inside.

  There was a wall of windows, and on the couch in the middle of that sunshine, was Matias.

  “Matias!” I called, seeing the little boy’s eyes open and staring at his tablet.

  Matias didn’t just play on his tablet, though. He learned. He was on ABC Mouse, and he was working on his letters and numbers. He was the only kid I knew who didn’t just get on the device to play something stupid, like Candy Crush.

  Matias looked up, and his smile brightened the room impossibly further. “Izzy! Did you bring me cookies?”

  His voice was weak, which was normal at this stage of his treatment. If my guess was right, he had a treatment a few days ago—making this the day that he was the weakest and most nauseous.

  Rome made a noise in the back of his throat. “Matias Tyler Pierce, you’re supposed to greet a visitor and ask how they are before you ask if they brought you anything.”

  Matias looked over at his father, then back at me. “Hi, Isadora. How are you? Can I have one of your cookies?”

  I snickered and looked over at the amused man standing two paces away from me. “May I?”

  I held up the bag, and Rome dropped his eyes from my face to my bag, then nodded. “Yeah.”

  I walked over to one of my favorite little boys in the world and offered him the bag. “Don’t eat all of these at once. I’m trusting you.”

  He snickered. “Mama’s not here anymore. I can have more than one now since she’s not here to pitch a fit.”

  My eyes widened, and I looked over at Rome but didn’t say a word.

  Rome wasn’t looking at me, though. He was looking at his son with a worried frown on his face.

  I patted Matias’ hand. “Well, still. I don’t want you upsetting your tummy any more than it already is, so just go slow, okay?”

  At Matias’ nod, I got up from my crouch and turned to the man. “Now, tell me what you need, and I’ll do my best to accommodate you.”

  Rome turned to me, his eyebrows high. “Tell you what I need?”

  He turned and started out of the room, but I could’ve sworn I heard him mutter, “Your pretty face making my kid smile again.”

  But surely that wasn’t what I heard.

  “I’m sorry, what?” I asked, hurrying after him.

  “I said that you can do whatever you think the place needs or what you normally do at Tara’s place. I don’t care. Honestly? He just wanted to see you. I’m not here enough to really get this place dirty. The kitchen and the living room are really the only two rooms that I use. All the other rooms, except for my bedroom upstairs and Matias’ down the hall, don’t even have furniture.” Rome waved a hand around the kitchen.

  The fact that his son wanted to see me, and that Rome had gone out of his way to call my business to get me here, had me feeling all warm and happy.

  I was sure that my smile lit up my face.

  He frowned then, something catching his attention. “You okay?”

  He pointed at my hand, and I sighed. “I fell today running. Some car nearly ran me over, and I had to dodge and weave to miss getting plowed over. The man didn’t even stop…this was the result.”

  I held up my wrist that was scraped up one side and down the other. There wasn’t any visible blood anymore, but that was about all that I could say.

  Tomorrow, it’d hurt like a bitch…and I was damn sure that I’d be wearing my gloves when I used the bleach.

  “Are you sure you can work like that?” he asked, looking concerned.

  I snorted. “Uh, yeah. I can work. I’ve had worse than this before and still managed it.”

  My father had beat my ass when I was an impressionable teen because I’d refused to he
lp him clean without compensation. Then, when he was done, he’d forced me to go clean anyway.

  That day had been hell.

  The scrapes on my arm? It was nothin’.

  Rome frowned, and when he looked like he was about to ask more, I was thankful that his son called his name.

  “Coming,” Rome called, then looked at me solemnly. “If you need anything, we’ll be working on our ABCs.”

  Smiling at his words, I went to work, only minorly aware that my wrist was a little more sore than I’d first realized.

  But I stuck it out, and I had nearly finished the entire house—sans the empty rooms and the living room because there was no way in hell I’d have time to tackle all ten of them today—when I saw Rome again.

  This time, he was coming out of Matias’ room—which I had just cleaned before I started the hall bathroom—closing the door quietly behind him.

  I smiled. “Is he asleep?”

  Rome looked up and nodded, coming my way before he responded.

  “The treatments take a lot out of him. I think he sleeps more than he’s awake nowadays,” he murmured.

  I was scared to ask him if they were working or not.

  I never got up the nerve to ask Tara, either.

  I kept hoping that I’d see improvement in the little boy, but it’d been four months now that I’d been cleaning for them, and I hadn’t seen any sign that he was getting better.

  And that just sucked so bad.

  I wanted to walk in here one day to that little boy wrapping his arms around my waist and telling me that he was feeling better, instead of seeing him struggle to lift his little head off the couch.

  Then again, at least he was on the couch this time and not alone on the bathroom floor.

  I’d seen that, too.

  Too many times.

  Tara would help him there, and then she’d leave him.

  Rome? Well, I doubted he even realized how much better he cared for Matias.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” I murmured, looking at the closed door. “I’m almost done upstairs. I have the living room downstairs to go, and then I’m done—at least for today. I have another appointment this afternoon that I can’t miss, but if you want me to come back and finish all the bedrooms that I didn’t get to today, I’ll probably need to block off an entire day for you.”