The Slammer and Nice, Isn't it Nice?
"Edward, I don't know if I can do this," I said as I wringed my hands. "Why in the hell did my mom want to meet with me? And now?"
"I honestly don't know, love," Edward said as he laced his fingers with mine. "She's not getting out of jail because no one is posting her bail. Perhaps she wants to atone for her sins."
I snorted and gave him a look. Yeah, right.
"Or she could be a raving, psycho bitch," Edward shrugged. "I'm going to be with you, baby. I promise. Not in the conference room, but I will be with you. Just breathe."
"Okay," I sighed. I checked my watch and shook my head. "We have to go. Visiting hours are only from one until four."
"Then, we have to finish packing, love. We leave the day after tomorrow," Edward smirked. "Going to Nice. Isn't that nice?"
"Dork," I chuckled, rolling my eyes.