Boss On Notice. Janet Lee Nye

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СКАЧАТЬ voice dropped and wavered with the tears she didn’t want to shed. “If Abuelito was still alive, I’d ask him. You know you’re the brother of my heart, Josh. There’s no one else.”

      “Of course,” he said. He looked around the room and for a second, everything felt strange, unfamiliar. Wait, what was happening here? He shook his head and brought his attention back to the phone.

      He wasn’t sure why the request had hit him like it had. It was no secret that neither he nor Sadie had any real family. They were both products of the foster-care system and had been turned out on the streets at eighteen. Sadie’s half brother had found her and she was slowly building a relationship with him. But Josh was her brother of choice. Just as he thought of her as his sister. His big sister. His fingers played over the keys of his laptop and a file opened.

      “Are you sure?”

      “Yes. I’m sure.” He forced a laugh. “It’s just so grown-up. Real. Family stuff. Things we thought we’d never have.”

      “I know,” she whispered. “It’s a good thing, little brother. Our family is growing. Getting stronger. And you’ll always be my brother. Always.”

      His throat closed painfully. “Always.”

      After he ended the call, he opened the file. His little sister. The one he’d lost. She’d been adopted away from him. At two, she was young enough, cute enough and not as scarred by their ordeal as he was. The file was pathetically small. Lists of reunification websites. His own notes. Names of social workers he’d spoken to over the years. Random bits of memory. The memories of a five-year-old.

      Her name was Kim. He’d called her Kimmie. Her birthday was in the summer. Her hair was dark and curly, same as his. But he couldn’t remember what color her eyes were. Strange the things he could remember, the things that he couldn’t. Memory was the strangest thing ever, the way certain things would just be there, for no reason, and other things he couldn’t find in his head no matter how hard he searched for them. She had called him “Yoss.” He remembered that.

      He clicked open another file and stared at the artist’s sketch. He looked at the picture of his memory of his sister and tried to remember. Really remember. Was this truly how she looked? Or was it just some phantom his mind had created over the years? He closed the files. Put his hand to his chin and rubbed, trying to sort it all out.

      He opened a browser on his laptop and pulled up his post on the adoption-reunion website. Nothing. Same as the last three years. Next, he scanned through the new posts hoping to find anything that might give him some hope. Nothing.

      He leaned back in the chair. Spun his phone around in a circle. He had a new idea, one that had just occurred to him. Spying? Investigating. Who did he know who did that? Mmm-hmm. That was the thing. He did have an ally in this search, didn’t he? Do it. Before you talk yourself out of it. A moment later, he was pacing around the small kitchen and scrolling through contact numbers.

      “Wyatt Anderson.”

      Resisting the urge to claim an accidental butt dial, Josh leaned against the counter. “Hey, it’s Josh. I’ve got a question for you.”

      “All right.”

      Wyatt sounded surprised. Probably because he was used to dealing with Sadie, who never asked anyone for anything. And if Josh was being honest with himself, he didn’t, either. He had to force the words out.

      “I have a younger sister. We went into foster care together. She was adopted and I never saw her again. Can you help me find her?”

      It hurt worse than he thought it would. Saying it out loud. Sadie knew. But Sadie was different. She understood. He paced around the kitchen, unable to stand still. His heart rate picked up but there was a light feeling filling his chest. It took him a moment to figure it out. He was excited. Hopeful. Things he hadn’t felt in quite a while.

      “Wow. Okay. Just hold on. Let me grab a pen. All right,” Wyatt said. “Tell me everything you know. Adoptions are hard because family court records are sealed but I can check it out. See what I can come up with.”

      “Thank you. I really appreciate it. Whatever your normal rate is...”

      “Shut up, Josh. You’re family. Now tell me everything you remember.”

      After going over the details he knew, he tried to return to what he was supposed to be doing. Cleaning Crew work. Now that he had DeShawn, he could start to move forward. Get the two new guys trained. More clients. Then more guys. He worked out a schedule for the coming week and as he did, he heard a thump and a wail through the thin walls of the duplex. Ian must have wiped out.

      He heard Mickie’s voice. Not the words but the smooth, lilting tones of comfort. It was a nice sound. He regretted the job thing. She was clearly in a bad spot. No job, no car and a baby. But he admired her grit. She wasn’t complaining or whining. She was just moving forward, doing the best she could.

      Wait. The laundry thing.

      Mickie had Ian in her arms when she opened the door. He clung to her neck and waist like a little barnacle. “Sorry, did his crying bother you?”

      “What? No. I mean I heard it but that’s not why I came over. Is he okay?”

      “Tried to climb the kitchen counter and learned a lesson in gravitational pull. What’s up?”

      She shifted the baby on her hip and he peeked at Josh. He pointed to his forehead. It was sporting a red spot. “Owie.”

      “I see that. You’ll be okay. You’re a tough guy.”

      “Tuh?”

      Josh flexed his arm, making the bicep pop. “Strong.”

      “Stong?”

      Josh laughed and looked to Mickie, who was looking at his arm with unmistakable appreciation. A warm flood of desire washed through him, cooled by a dart of fear. No way, dude, she’s got a kid. “Yeah, I was distracted this morning but I meant to tell you that I’ve got a washer-dryer set up over at my place. You’re welcome to use it. Save you some time and money.”

      Her gaze met his. Gone was the soft appraisal. Now he was looking at a woman with a chip on her shoulder. She looked like Sadie did when you offered to help her with anything. Like it was the greatest of insults.

      “Thank you for the offer,” she said. “But we’ve imposed on you enough.”

      “You haven’t imposed at all. Listen, I’ve been here. I’ve been on my own since I was eighteen. No family. It’s hard. So, if you want to use the washer, let me know. That’s all I’m saying.”

      And why was he even bothering? Obviously she didn’t want his help. Obviously he was insulting her. He lifted a hand to wave at the baby. “See you around, little man.”

      “Wait.”

      He turned back. Her cheeks were stained with pink and her expression held a sad mix of hurt pride and desperate need.

      “Thank you,” she said.

      He dipped his head. “You’re welcome.”

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