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Also - what in the world is he doing with that large house for himself?
Or maybe his agent or someone just rented it for him.
It doesn’t matter.
I carry my empty bowls to the sink and make the executive decision to take a quick ride over to the gym. Not to see Cutter Buckley in person. No. What I can do is put the check on his windshield? Like a parking ticket, right under one of the wiper blades.
For some reason this really makes sense.
I set the wheels in motion when I go upstairs to Saxon’s room to tell him I have to run to work really quick. That I trust him to be home alone, which makes his eyes light up with excitement. He knows he won’t exactly be home alone.
My next stop is over the railing on the porch and I knock on Maryanne’s door.
She answers with a pair of binoculars around her neck and a smile on her face.
“Everything okay, Piper?”
“Yes,” I say. “But I have to run over to work for something. I’ll be a minute there. I told Saxon he can stay here…”
“Of course,” Maryanne says. “Want me to come over?”
“I trust him.”
“Okay. Perfect. Tell you what. I’m just brewing up a pot of coffee so I’ll sit on the porch and relax. My routine anyway. I’ll be close but he’ll still have some distance to enjoy himself.”
“Thank you for the help.”
“So what happened over there? Hackers get into the system or something? I keep seeing things about that. Amazing, huh? Scary stuff. Makes you want to keep your money in a mattress.”
“Need to have money to hide,” I blurt out.
Maryanne laughs. “You know something I saw, Piper? There’s a conspiracy out there that birds are robots. Can you believe that?”
“Honestly, I can believe anything right now,” I say. “Not saying it’s true, but… I have to go. I’ll be back in a few. Thank you again.”
I hurry off the porch before Maryanne can continue to speak.
Believe me, the entire time I’m telling myself this is kind of a stupid idea. It’s weird. It’s almost clingy.
But my focus is the same.
All I want to do is pay Cutter back.
I’m not the kind of woman looking for a savior with a fat wallet. No thanks.
I’d prefer a man with a fat cock… but that’s a whole other set of thoughts and needs.
I swallow hard and tell myself to calm down and relax.
All I’m going to do is drive to the gym, look for Cutter’s obnoxiously huge SUV, put the check somewhere on the vehicle, and then leave.
Oh, and if he’s ballsy enough to not cash the check, looking to be a hero, I’ll one up him on that too. If the check isn’t cashed in… two weeks… I’ll do a stop payment and then take that amount of money and donate it.
In other words - no man is buying me a car battery.
Don’t need it. Don’t want it.
A voice in the back of my head wants to know about the fat cock though.
