Page 4 of Light in Your Eyes (Romero Brothers #1)

Layla

I kiss my grandma's cheek while she's swaying back and forth in her rocking chair. "I made chicken soup for your breakfast and put it on the dining table. I’m going to catch the bus."

A smile forms on my grandma's lips. Before I can step away to go to the front door, she holds my hands in hers, stopping me. Although she can't see me because of her vision loss, she tilts her chin up to look at me.

My grandma has glaucoma, which caused the loss of her vision because of her age and diabetes. It has been happening for two years.

She sighs. "Where are you going? How about that college application? You haven't told me anything about it." Curiosity is laced in her voice.

I swallow and laugh nervously. If she could see me right now, she would probably figure out that I'm about to lie. "All set, Nana. Don't worry about it."

Guilt immediately washes over me because what I said was far from the truth. At the age of nineteen, I'm supposed to sign up for college. I probably should have been a sophomore this year. But it's not happening anytime soon.

I don't even know if I'm ever going to college. I can't afford it. We can't afford it.

But my Nana doesn't have to know. I don't want to see her crushed.

"I just have to go to the restaurant again for an extra shift this morning, but I'll be back for lunch." I squeeze her hand to assure her.

"You're still taking that part-time job?" Nana raises her brows. "I know that they pay well, but you work too hard. Now that you're going to college soon, you need more time to study—"

I kiss my grandma's cheek again, silencing her.

Every time she talks about my future, my heart sinks even lower because I know how much she dedicated her life to raising me.

"I know, Nana." My cheerful voice echoes, contrary to the turmoil in my heart. "I'm going to quit soon."

I mean what I said. I'm going to quit this job, but it's not for college. Instead of going to college, I'm going to find a new job, one that is far more rewarding, because we need more money.

Nana, however, seems satisfied with my answer. She has no clue about what is going on.

"I'm going to be late. I have to go," I chirp, letting go of her hands and rushing toward the front door .

While I'm passing the living room, my eyes widen at the sight of the billing documents still scattered on the coffee table. Nana can't read it, but—

"What's that?"

I snap my head toward the source of the voice and find my younger brother, Archer, coming down from the stairs.

Archer is 14 years old, and I love him dearly. He and Nana are the only family I still have.

I snatch the papers and abruptly shove them into my sling bag. "Just some college stuff." I grin sheepishly.

Archer yawns. "Did you get in?" he asks, still sounding sleepy.

"Absolutely," I pretend to brag, gripping the door handle.

I want to escape this conversation as soon as possible.

My brother is too young to have this burden.

He's been such a good boy. He always helps me and Nana without causing the troubles that most boys his age would.

Sometimes, he didn't spend some of the money I gave him—which is way lesser than his friends would have—just so we could buy more groceries.

I'm really grateful to have him and Nana in my life.

"Which college—" Before Archer can finish his question about the college I'm going to, I push through the door.

The summer morning breeze greets me as soon as I step out of the house. I inhale the fresh air, letting out a sigh as I walk on the sidewalk.

I lied to Nana and Archer.

I'm not going to college. I can't. And now I'm not going to the restaurant to do my part-time job. Someone is going to interview me for a new one, and I hope that luck is on my side today.

I need more money. Urgently. I haven't even paid a quarter of Nana's hospital bills.

The medical expenses for Nana's eye condition exceeded way more than what the insurance company could give us, but Nana doesn't know about that. She has stopped the treatment, but she has no idea that we’re indebted.

Nana has suffered enough from losing her vision and learning that she can no longer take care of me and Archer. I don't have the heart to tell her that her disease caused more problems than she thought.

She has done so much for me and Archer since our parents were gone, and now it's my turn to make sacrifices for her. Postponing my college application for a year or two is nothing compared to what she did for us.

***

I swallow, watching as the middle-aged woman behind the desk in front of me studies me from head to toe.

I did my best to look presentable today. Although I'm wearing a pair of jeans and sneakers, I hope that the blazer makes me somehow look professional. I ran out of ideas on how to style my auburn hair, so I just tied it in a ponytail like usual.

The woman, who just introduced herself as Lauren, squints at me. "Interesting," she mumbles.

I raise my eyebrows, wondering what's on her mind. She shifts her attention to her computer, adjusts her glasses, and lets out a sigh that makes me think she's been doing this interview for a million years .

"I don't know why this person wants to hire you." She scrolls through the screen of her computer.

I don't think that she's a mean person for saying that. She seems genuinely, extremely curious.

My heart almost leaps with excitement because, based on what she said, a potential client is interested in hiring me.

She leans back against her chair and faces me again. "What made you apply to our home care services?"

I'm looking for money. Lots of them. My current part-time job doesn't help that much.

I feel like I almost blurted that out.

"I've always been passionate about helping people." I smile.

She returns her eyes to her computer. "It states here that you applied for a job in companion care, homemaking care, hospice care support, live-in care, respite care..."

Correct. I literally applied for all of them. I'm that desperate for money.

"That's right," I say, a bit too enthusiastically. "I can take care of people with illnesses. I can also make sure that my client has someone to talk to. I can do the housekeeping, assist with laundry, prepare meals, or do other chores."

Lauren's eyes are still glued to the screen. "But based on what I found here, you have no similar experience in your previous jobs."

My heart sinks at that, but I won't give up just yet. "I'm a very hardworking person and a fast learner."

While I'm trying to see what information on my resume she's reading, I glimpse my photo on the screen and instantly regret why I chose that picture .

I was smiling too much in that photo. I thought that a cheerful picture might be good for this application, but then some clients might think that I just look plain stupid.

"It says here that you're used to taking care of your grandmother. And it's also stated here that she's blind?"

"Yes, she is," I say truthfully.

"Well, that might help." She hums, swirling her chair so that she faces me again. "Your client is also blind, Ms. Hayes."

Silence falls for a while.

My mouth drops open. "Are you saying that I got hired?" Disbelief is evident in my tone.

I don't think that the other fact is a problem because I'm used to taking care of my Nana. I don't mind looking after another blind person.

"Yes." Lauren nods.

I feel like rushing to her and hugging her tightly. Instead, I compose myself before I can do something embarrassing.

"Your profile, surprisingly, met the criteria for this client."

"Okay." My hands are getting sweaty from the excitement building up inside me. "How old is she? My client."

"He," Lauren corrects. "Your client is a man, and a young one at that. He's only a year older than you."

I'm still trying to digest this information. "Does he expect personal care? Although I'm willing to take care of clients with disabilities, I remember putting some conditions on my application for that matter."

Uneasiness stirs inside me. If a guy around my age needs my help with personal tasks like bathing and dressing, I might not feel that comfortable and would end up disappointing him.

Lauren seems to notice my concern and shakes her head in assurance. "Don't worry. He can do all of that himself. In fact, he's even better than us in some areas."

My brows furrow in confusion.

"He's a blind martial artist," she adds.

"A what?"

"A martial artist. A fighter."

When she notices how dumbfounded I am, she chuckles. "Yes, it's remarkable, isn't it?"

I can only nod slowly. "It is."

My respect grows for this potential client. Even though he's blind, he has accomplished such ability.

But then, I squint at Lauren. "If that's the case, can you be more specific about what kind of help he needs from me? And what made him choose me out of the other applicants?"

Lauren sighs. "I was wondering too, especially about your last question.

As for the details of your tasks, his assistant will be the one who will explain to you tomorrow.

Should you be willing to take care of him, he will pay for your flight ticket from Chicago to Texas and pick you up at the airport. "

My eyes instantly widen. There's one word in her sentence that makes me off guard. "Tomorrow?"

"Yes," Lauren says. "This client needs your help as soon as possible. He stated that it was urgent."

So many thoughts are running through my head. I can't let go of this opportunity. I'll do anything to help my family out of our money crisis. My Nana is blind, and Archer is too young to earn money.

I'm just not ready to tell them that I'm leaving them tomorrow. Will it be okay for Archer to take care of Nana alone while I'm gone?

"So, what do you think, Ms. Hayes?" Lauren is waiting for my response. "Do you think that you can take care of this client? We'll be discussing your payment first."

I take a deep breath, praying in my heart that I'm making the right decision and that everything will be okay.