Selling Her Virginity. BWWM

Chapter 5

Two days later, 

Sunday, 

3 February, 2019.

12:12㏘.



BROOKE CLAYTON. 

    I entered the house, dropping my keys as I was trying to remove the lace of my shoe. I might be a big sinner, but it doesn't mean I don't worship my God. I didn't have cab fare and surely don't know my way this way big ass street so I went to the church in the neighborhood and people were giving me weird stares but were really nice and surprised that I leave in the ole big ass house at end of the street. It's clear this guy had and has no pact with his neighbors which is really bad. Where I come from, good or bad neighbors were family, cause at a time their help is all you gonna need despite how filthy rich you are. 

    Ever since pool episode me and Morgan understood each other, not a pact just plain ole understanding. We hadn't said more than a few words to one another, other than morning. 

   Tomorrow is my first day of my second year, and I can't tell if I'm happy or nervous about it. I just can't decipher my feelings, but I know one thing it won't get better. I went into the kitchen, just looking for something to nibble on. 

   “I was looking for you.  I stuck my head from the fridge to see Morgan calmly resting his body by the door. I have business partners coming over. Think you could make yourself disappear?”. 

   I banged the fridge door. “You know they are more nicer ways to say go away. But I'm not going  anywhere, if I don't see a whole lot of Benjamin Franklin”. 

  He closed his eyes sighing. “How old are you?”.

   “Twenty, twenty one by October. Why are you asking?”.

  “How can a nineteen year old woman, be so f*****g money conscious?”. 

   “OK. Back. Off. Daddy”. I said sarcastically. “You know nothing bout me, so zero rights to judge me”.

   He walked away not able to say anything more, as my phone started to chime, my heart sped up seeing it was Natasha. 

  “Brooke, her voice not calm at all. You need to get here fast!”. 

   I ran upstairs, changing into Jean and tee shirt with a sneakers.  I ran back downstairs tumbling on Morgan at the foot of the stairs.  He fell on top of me and my eyes we're watering thinking of the worst case scenario. I pushed him off me getting up and running out the door to the gate. 

   I was just running having no idea how I was going to get to the place, when I felt someone push me out of the road as a car tyre was screeching. I looked up to see Morgan on me again. 

  “What's your problem?. I screamed getting up. You don't want me in the house but you keep being on me”..

  He stood up clearly angry.  “Me?. In case your contacts fell out, I just saved your life”. 

  I nodded. Walking past him as his hand caught my shoulders again. “If this is about what I said inside. I'm sorry”.

  “It's okay, I just have to go”. I said snaking out of his grip. 

   My phone started to ring again, showing Natasha. I turned around taking the call. “No need to worry, we've calmed him down”. 

   “Nat. My voice cracked as I was trying so hard not to cry. “Thank you so much”. 

  A stray tear slid down my face as she ended the call. I cleaned my cheek still thinking of how to get there when I felt a figure towering me. 

   “Are you okay?”. I turned around nodding, walking past him, heading for the house. 

  No one is going to see me cry!. 

●●●



MORGAN MILTON. 

      I was thinking about how to handle the meeting and was going to my study upstairs when she tumbled me down, I expected her to go off. Her soft eyes wounded as she pushed me off running outside. I thought she was angry at my attitude and was running after her to say sorry and she could stay, that I was going to have the meeting someplace else when I saw she was in the middle of the road. 

  For a minute whatever call she got definitely made her cry, she thought she was hiding her tears but I saw what I saw. I followed her back to the house, she entered without saying anything going up the stairs to her room. I wanted to say something but her door being banged was all I heard. 

   “Rodriguez, get me Intel on Brooke Marie Clayton”. I said to my PI over the phone, my hand ran over my hair as I thought about what I'm about to get my self into.

   I called my PA next, postponing the meeting. Then my mind wandered back to Brooke, I know I'm not suppose to, I should just leave her and let her keep her secrets, but something is pulling me to know more. I mean girls her age are all about i********: and Snapchat. But this particular Twenty year old is all about money, getting extra jobs, it's all about being paid for her. And I find myself wanting to know her reason for this. 

   My phone chimed, revealing Rodriguez. “Go!”. I commanded. 

  “Brooke Marie Clayton, born October 16 1998, to an unknown parents. Her only leaving relative, her adopted grandfather, a seventy year old stage four dementia patient”. I rubbed my eyes feeling her pain. “Boss you there?”.

   “Yeah. Go on”. 

  “First got into medicine at seventeen but had to drop out and use her tuition fees for a open heart surgery for herself. Been working odd jobs to pay for her grandpa's treatment and for her school. Boss, with an IQ like hers, I'm wondering why she's not in Harvard”. 

   “Is that all?”. I meant the question like any known relationship. 

   Rodriguez chuckled. “No boss, no recorded or known boyfriend. But according to my source, she's feisty and a smart mouth”. 

  At least I've seen that last part for my self. “Thanks man, I'll see to you”. I ended the call getting out of my drawing space and into my calm sweet, pool house, finally understanding her money consciousness and really feeling bad for misjudging her intentions when her priorities were clearly a big burden for her little shoulders. 

  Maybe going a little soft on her, wouldn't hurt. Would it?!. 

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