Chapter 14 Megumi
She gestured vaguely. “It doesn’t matter what he mentioned so much as what you want and what’s best for you and your brother. I think it would be best for him to meet you, let his family meet you, and see who you are.” She lifted her head and turned toward the camera. “I think it would be best for you to do that when you’re ready, on your home turf, and say what you feel you need to and get… whatever you can out of it.”
“Mom—“
She held up her hand. “I know your heart, Lydia.” She shook her head and laughed. “I’ve known for a very long time you’ve inherited a lot from the Bakers… you’ve inherited a lot from his family, too.” Her lips twitched. “I think you’re in a place to be able to accept that and gain some closure about your dad in a healthy way if you run into him. The island is pretty big, I imagine it’s unlikely, but I didn’t want you to be caught off guard if you do.”
Lydia nodded. “Thank you for the warning.”
She nodded stiffly. “I know it’s about time for you to start getting ready for your shift. Don’t let it ruin your mood.”
“I won’t. I love you both.”
“We love you, too,” they said before disconnecting.
She looked down into the box for a moment and breathed. She was grateful that she wouldn’t be caught off guard, but now she knew, and it was very likely she’d spend a lot of her time on campus looking around every pillar, worried about when he might pop up.
Great.
Not that she needed something else to worry about, but… a small traitorous part of her wondered if she could benefit from it.
After all, wouldn’t he be happy about her choice of boyfriend? She pulled away from that thought so fast her thoughts burned like rubber screeching against asphalt.
What the fuck was she thinking?
Why the fuck should she care what he thought of Ken?
She’d thought she’d beat that particular impulse out of her the days she started going by ‘Lydia Baker.’
Trudging up to the fourth floor, she focused on the whoosh and sigh of air through her nose. It would be fine. Everything would be fine.
He wouldn’t even recognize her.
It wasn’t like he had any photos of her.
Did he?
“Don’t even go there,” she whispered to herself.
That path only led to heartbreak and more fury, whether the photos existed or not.
When her mom had called him for help with Quillan’s lawyer fees, and he’d refused, she and Quillan had made a pact to make Lydia and Quillan Baker their official names as soon as they could.
He was dead to her.
Dead.
Dead.
Fucking dead, that racist, selfish, son of a bitch?
If her loss of job hadn’t been enough reason not to ration her food for a few days, her own self-loathing would do the job. Good thing her manager was probably going to start cracking down on the free food they got to take home after shifts.
She grimaced. A nagging little voice told her that punishing herself over this wasn’t healthy, but fuck it, she couldn’t make herself hear the words.
She had to focus on the next hour of her life: shower, change, maybe have a snack, and get to the Bar in time for her shift.
Shuffling the box to one arm, she keyed in the code and walked in.
“I’m—“
Megumi’s high, breathy moan cut her off. “Yeah! Right there!”
Lydia grimaced. As great as it was having cheap rent, living with Megumi, there were downsides like her need to fuck her boy toys in the damn living room. Could this constitute sexual harassment? Probably, but she wasn’t in a position to complain and lose her cheap housing.
What the hell was it with rich people and having sex where other people could hear them? Tension twisted between her shoulder blades. Her shift at the Bar was going to be hell with her manager working tonight and the Centurions still riding the high of the Cup. She did not need this shit.
She hauled the box onto her left shoulder and walked in, closing the door and shielding her eyes as she made a beeline for her bedroom. The steady slapping of skin on skin and the creaking of the couch were drowned out by Megumi’s pornstar noises and her partner’s low groans.
Luckily, she made it to her room before they started talking. The dirty talk was the worst and totally fake. Poor guy probably didn’t care that she was faking it. Her face heated as she thought back to Dorian and his two guests. Whoever had been getting railed in the kitchen hadn’t been faking it.
Megumi and her lover carried on as Lydia grabbed her things for a quick shower. She unpacked her shiny new heat styling tool and shuffled down the hallway to the bathroom with her things.
She showered and rinsed her hair of sweat, gel, and co-washed it to keep the frizz down. After using the last of her anti-frizz heat protectant, she turned on the styling base and connected the wet/dry attachment. After a few tries to figure out the angle, speed, and heat needed, she did a single pass on a lock of her tamest hair.
Her jaw dropped when it fell in a perfectly straight, dry lock over her shoulder. She didn’t even want to know how expensive this thing was. She was going to keep it forever.
As soon as she got her hair dry, she decided to be a little fancy and try for curls. They came out big and bouncy the way she wanted, and she sent a photo to her mom and grandpa with a string of hearts before gathering all of her stuff and heading back to her room. After packing everything away neatly, and dropping her empty product bottles in her trash can, she set the box in the closet.
Grabbing her tennis shoes for the Bar, she hesitated at the door, listening for more of those sounds. There was a soft, moaning sound, but the couch wasn’t creaking. Maybe they were just making out?
Perfect.
She grabbed her wallet, her messenger bag, and her apron before heading out, shielding her eyes. She was almost through the living room before she heard a familiar voice call her name.
“Lydia?”
She stopped, blinked, and blinked again before schooling her expression into a neutral slate as she turned her head. Ken sat on the couch, shirt pushed up towards his chest, and leaned back. Megumi’s head between his legs, moaning as she bobbed her head. Ken’s sharp, high cheekbones were fully flushed. His eyes were a bit dazed, but he didn’t look drunk. His hair was a mess of bone-straight strands sticking out in every direction.
She looked between him and Megumi on her knees, catching her eye as she pulled up, releasing his cock with a pop.