The Redemption of Memphis Drake: A Second Chance Romance

by Shay Stone

  “Max invited me. I hope that’s okay.”

  “Yeah, I’m glad he did.” I pull out her chair and take the seat next to her once she’s situated. She unfolds her napkin smoothing it over her lap. “You set my alarm when you left.”

  “I did.”

  “It scared the crap out of me when I opened the door this morning.”

  “Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Hang on. What do you mean ‘left’?” Jen interrupts. “Nyla did you and Memphis have a sleepover last night?”

  I laugh at the way she phrases it—like we’re a couple of eight-year-olds. Nyla turns bright red, uncomfortable having everyone’s eyes on us. “We did not have a sleepover.”

  I sit back in my chair draping my arm over the back of Nyla’s. “Don’t let her fool you. She totally wanted to have a sleepover with me. But I promised Colin and Alex I would be a good boy, so I made sure she got inside the house and left.”

  “And he set my alarm. Damn thing sounded like an air siren going off when I opened the door. I thought we were under attack.”

  “I’m not going to apologize for that. I told you I didn’t like that guy hanging around by your steps.”

  “What guy?” Alex asks, concerned.

  Nyla huffs. “No one. It was probably my neighbor, Henry. Memphis is just being overprotective.”

  “I don’t care. You need to set that alarm when you leave. I don’t want anything to happen to you. Now promise me you’ll do it from now on.”

  “Fine. I promise. Geesh.”

  “Thank you.”

  We look up to find everyone snickering.

  “Look at you two bickering like a little ol’ married couple,” Alex teases.

  Max takes a sip of his drink. “Yeah, all I got out of that was you and Colin cockblocked Nyla.”

  The waiter comes to relay tonight’s specials and take our order. While the rest of the table is occupied talking about some fashion show for a menswear line Jen’s been working on, Alex places her hand on my forearm to get my attention. “Thank you for taking her home. I’m sorry I asked Colin to—”

  I cut her off. “Alex, you don’t have anything to be sorry for. You were just looking out for your cousin. That’s what family does, right?”

  She smiles. “Right.”

  My phone dings with an incoming message from Mason. I open it immediately to make sure he’s okay. There’s a photo of him with a girl sitting in a booth drinking milkshakes. He looks so happy. Incredibly thin. But happy.

  Nyla leans closer peeking at the photo. “Aww, is that Mason?”

  “Who’s Mason?” Jen asks.

  “My little brother.”

  Nyla takes my phone to show Alex and Jen. They fawn over him and ask to see more pictures. “He looks just like you.”

  “Don’t tell him that. He thinks he’s the good looking one in the family.”

  “Does he live with you?” they ask, still thumbing through my pictures.

  “No. He lives near the Catskills with my Dad and a private nurse I pay to care for them. I haven’t found a place to move them here yet.”

  “Takes care of them?” Nyla inquires.

  “Yeah. My dad was diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer’s a few years ago.”

  “Oh, Memphis. I’m so sorry.”

  “What can you do? It happens,” I reply, taking my cell back from her and linger on the photo of Mason for another second before setting it on the table. My face must convey my thoughts because Nyla gently squeezes my knee.

  “What is it?”

  “Nothing. He just looks so pale.”

  “Is he sick?” Alex asks.

  “Yeah. He’s a got a bad heart. They think he needs a transplant.”

  Colin blows out a long breath. “I’m sorry, man. That’s rough.”

  Max leans forward resting his arms on the table. “There’s nothing else they can do?”

  “We’ve got an appointment with another cardiologist in Manhattan, but that’s a month out. They put us on a list in case anyone cancels, but I’d have to know a day in advance to get him down here in time. It’s part of why I hate being so far away. And if something happens and I’m here …” I’m interrupted as the waitstaff brings our food. We sit in silence picking at our meals. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bum everyone out.”

  “Don’t be silly. That’s what friends are for,” Jen says and whispers something to Max.

  “Already on it,” he replies, typing something into his phone.

  “So, Alex, Nyla tells me you’re going to be starring in the new Jackson Slate film?” I ask, changing the subject before I’m never invited out with them again. I’m supposed to be the fun guy. The dependable guy who’s perfect husband material. Not the charity case everyone feels sorry for.

  Thankfully, Alex takes the bait and the conversation moves on, making me glad I didn’t spoil the night. She’s in the middle of a funny story about something that happened during her audition when Nyla presses a kiss to my cheek.

  “What was that for?”

  “For being you. I know how hard it is and how helpless it can make you feel taking care of someone who’s deteriorating right before your eyes. You don’t have to be strong in front of us. If there’s anything I can do, please just ask.”

  I should have known she would understand. She watched her mother go through it. I brush her hair back with my fingers. “You really are an angel, you know that?” Then I say something that shocks even me. “I’d like you to meet them someday.”

  She gives me a broad smile that I swear lights up the whole damn room. “I’d like that too.”

  I’m in some serious fucking trouble. I could fall for this woman if I let myself.

  FOURTEEN

  Inside Man vs. Shill—Know Your Role

  Monday morning, I wake up in an insanely good mood. I get to work early, armed with a chocolate croissant and mocha latte and head straight to Nyla’s office. She’s sitting at her desk, so engrossed in something on her computer, she doesn’t notice me.

  “That doesn’t look like a happy face. Maybe this will make it better.” I set the food and drink in front of her.

  She startles, jumping in her chair. “Memphis, you scared me.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I just wanted to say, ‘Good morning.’ What are you reading? It must be something pretty damn good if you didn’t notice this hunk of man candy walking in.”

  As I come around to sit on the corner of the desk, she reaches up and turns off the computer screen, knocking a manila envelope to the floor. By the time I retrieve it and return it to its spot, the screen is black. There’s something on there she doesn’t want me to see.

  “It was nothing. I was going over some notes for a meeting I have this morning with a possible new distributor.” She opens the bag and plucks out a piece of croissant. “You know if you keep bringing me this stuff, I’m going to have to buy a whole new wardrobe because nothing’s going to fit anymore.”

  “Well, I have to be honest. I’m only doing it so I can do this again.” I lift her hand and suck the chocolate from her fingers. She shifts in her chair rubbing her legs together, and I know she’s thinking about my mouth on other parts of her. I am too. Just to torture her, I slide her finger in and out of my mouth a few times eliciting a small gasp from her. “It looks like you have some here too. I should probably get that,” I tease, gliding my thumb over her bottom lip and go in for the kiss.

  “Hey Nyla, I need to get your signature on …” Mike says, barging into the room carrying some paperwork and wearing one of my goddamn suits. He freezes when he sees us. Flustered, he drops a few papers and bends to collect them. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you and Memphis were … I can come back.”

  I swear he has the worst damn timing. Nyla pushes my hand away and stands to see if he needs help. “No, really, it’s fine. Memphis was just leaving. What was it you needed?”

  I drop my head in defeat and follow behind her grumbling, “Memphis was not just leaving.
Memphis was two seconds away from locking the door and spreading chocolate all over you so he could lick it off.”

  She smiles and shoots me a warning look. I catch her wrist. “Dinner?”

  She nods her acceptance, satisfying me for now. I leave her and Mike to tend to business and head to the breakroom to grab a cup of coffee. My mug is still filling when Mike storms in looking like someone just pissed in his Cheerios.

  “Coffee?” I ask, lifting my cup.

  “No, I don’t want coffee.” He does a quick check outside the door making sure we’re alone. “You want to tell me what the hell that was?”

  “What was what?”

  “That thing with you and Nyla just now.”

  “What do you think it was? I’m working my mark,” I lie, although I’m not sure which of us I’m trying to convince.

  He drops his head back shaking it and puts his hands on his hips. “I should have known you would try something like this.”

  “What are you talking about?” I have no idea why he’s so upset. He should be happy things with Nyla are progressing.

  “Nyla is my mark. Mine. This is my job. I brought you in. You’re supposed to be talking me up to her and figuring out exactly how much money the family’s worth, so we know what we can squeeze out of them.”

  Oh, hell no. Is he serious? He thinks I’m the shill?

  I set down my cup and peek around the corner again to be certain no one’s coming. “There’s no way I’m letting you run this con. You screwed up the last two jobs. I’ll be damned if you’re going to fuck up this one too.”

  “Letting me? You’re not letting me do anything. I found her. I did the research. It’s my goddamn con.”

  “The hell it is. It became mine the minute you called me in because you couldn’t handle it. Now, I’m telling you to stay away from her.”

  “And I’m telling you the bitch is my mark.”

  I throw him against the refrigerator jamming my forearm under his neck. “You ever call her that again, you’ll be eating through a straw for the rest of your life. Now I told you to stay away from her and you damn well better do it.”

  I release him, but we’re still staring each other down when Edward enters the room. “Everything alright? It looks a little intense in here.”

  I back away and retrieve my coffee. “Yeah, everything’s fine. We were just discussing last night’s game.”

  “Ah, that explains it. I’m guessing you must be a Yankee fan?” he sneers, directing his question towards Mike. “No wonder you and Nyla get along so well.”

  Mike slaps on that slippery smile that makes me want to introduce his teeth to the back of his throat. “Yes sir, Mr. Moreau. It’s one of the many things Nyla and I have in common.”

  Edward moves beside me in solidarity. “Well, I think our boys have you beat this year. Isn’t that right, Memphis?”

  “Absolutely, Edward. Michael just won’t admit it. He’s always had a hard time knowing when he’s out matched.”

  “Well, I guess we’ll have to wait and see how it all plays out. To quote the great Yogi Berra, “‘It ain’t over till it’s over.’”

  Nyla appears, pausing when she sees us. “What’s going on in here? Did someone call a meeting I wasn’t aware of?”

  “No, no. Just some trash talk between friends,” Edward assures her, although if the expression on her face is any indication, I don’t think she believes him.

  “Okay, if you say so.” She sets down her cup and rips off a few pieces of paper towel, wetting one and dabbing some spilt coffee from her sleeve. “Oh Michael, I forgot to thank you for coming out on Saturday.”

  “I wouldn’t miss it. You know how much I adore those kids.”

  Nyla smiles, buying into his phony act. “He really does. Michael has a cousin with autism, so he understands the challenges these kids face. Oh, but I’m sure you already knew that since you’ve been friends for so long.”

  Mike’s dad was an only child and his mom, well who knows if Sheila had any family. Hell, her real name probably wasn’t even Sheila. So, an autistic cousin is news to me.

  “Memphis was never really comfortable around Patrick. He didn’t have the patience to deal with him.”

  Son-of-a-bitch! The bastard is trying to make me look bad.

  Nyla jumps to my defense. “Really? That surprises me. He was wonderful with all the kids Saturday. Especially Mikayla. She loved him.”

  “Mikayla spoke to him?” Edward asks, sounding surprised. “That’s incredible.”

  “She never left his side.”

  “Why is everyone so shocked by that? Have none of you noticed how charming I am?” I kid, trying to lighten the mood.

  “Mikayla’s father was very abusive. He used to beat her because she wasn’t learning things fast enough for him. She’s petrified of men. Didn’t you notice we made sure she was only paired up with women after you? I usually have a separate circle for her.”

  I had noticed, but I thought maybe it happened by chance. I didn’t realize they orchestrated the whole thing. The fact that someone touched that sweet child makes me want to throw aside those morals Mike loves to throw in my face, find the asshole that hurt her, and put him in the ground.

  “Kids have a sense about whether or not someone is a good person,” Edward adds, patting me on the back.

  “Yeah, I guess Patrick just rubbed him the wrong way,” Mike says bringing the conversation full circle to get his bullshit point across.

  Arguing will only me make me look like an asshole, but if he wants to play, we’ll play. “I was a different person back then. I had a lot of anger. My mom died. My brother got sick. My dad lost his job trying to take care of him. And I had to support my family because my stepmom ran out on us.”

  “Oh, his stepmom was such a piece of shit,” Nyla adds, quickly covering her mouth. “Memphis, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “No, it’s okay. She was.” I glare at Mike. It looks like his head is about to explode. Fuck him. He may have started this, but I’m damn well going to finish it.

  “Did you know her?” Nyla directs her question to Mike.

  “Uh, yeah, I met her. I didn’t think she was that bad.”

  “Not that bad? She gave away his dog because he refused to steal, and she walked out on her own son. Did you know Mike, too?” She turns to me and continues, “He’s the one that could never measure up to you, right?”

  “Right.”

  The vein in Mike’s neck begins to pulsate. He charges forward, his voice nearing a shout. “Mike was every bit as good as Memphis. Maybe even better. He was a lot smarter than people gave him credit for!”

  Fear mixed with confusion darkens Nyla’s face. She rests a hand on Mike’s shoulder. “Michael, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult your friend. Come over here. Let’s talk for a second.”

  My eyes are locked on them as she guides him a few feet away. I know his temper. I’ve had to beat his ass on more than one occasion after I found out he knocked a woman around. His high school girlfriend ended up in the hospital with a broken jaw. It’s part of why I’d never let him run a con. If he so much as lays a hand on Nyla, I’ll kill him.

  “There you are!” Emily exclaims, peeking her head into the room. "Edward, the car’s waiting downstairs. You and Nyla need to leave now if you’re going to make your meeting.”

  “Thank you, Emily. Nyla, we should go.”

  “I’ll be right there.” She says something else to Mike and hugs him. He draws her in closer burying his head into her neck and I have to look away. My reaction doesn’t go unnoticed by Edward.

  “If it’s any consolation, I’m rooting for you,” he whispers to me on his way out the door.

  “Thanks. It is.”

  I know Nyla thinks she and Mike are friends and she’s just trying to comfort him, but it still pisses me off. I don’t want him touching her. When I glance up, Mike is sporting the most arrogant smirk I’ve ever seen. I grip the edge of the c
ounter until my knuckles turn white. I’m about to leave before I do something stupid when she releases him and comes over to me.

  “I have a few meetings out of the office, so I’ll be gone the rest of the day. I’ll see you tonight?” She keeps her voice low, careful Mike doesn’t hear.

  “Definitely. How about I pick up dinner and we meet at your place around seven?”

  “That sounds perfect.” She lays a hand to my chest lowering her voice even more. “Don’t forget to pick up some chocolate. I plan to do some licking of my own.”

  She’s killing me. I’m ready to throw her over my shoulder, carry her out the door, and clean out the nearest Godiva. But her father’s waiting.

  Guess I’ll have to settle for a kiss. I bend my head to her, but she pulls back motioning in Mike’s direction with her eyes. She doesn’t want to rub it in his face while I’d like nothing more. It’s childish, I know, but Mike seems to bring that out of me. When you’ve known each other as long as we have, instead of acting like adults, you tend to revert back to fighting the same way you did when you were kids. Sheila wasn’t the only one who learned how to push our buttons. We could write a book on how to push each other’s, too.

  I allow her to leave without ravaging her in front of him. She’s right. Rubbing it in is only going to make things worse. Choosing to be the bigger man, I decide to apologize and explain exactly why I need to be the one to run this thing. “Mike, listen …”

  “You lying, arrogant son-of-a-bitch. You didn’t just run into her that night at the bar. You figured out who she was, and you’ve been trying to move in on her since you got here!”

  “That’s not true. I told you I met her by accident.”

  “Bullshit! After all this time and everything I’ve done to prove myself, you still think you’re the only one who can pull a successful job.”

  “I’m the only one who has,” I snap. “You’ve been here, what? Two? Three months?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Have you kissed her? Or been out on one date with her?” Please say, “no” or I’ll kill myself right here.

  “Well, no. Not technically. She doesn’t date people from the office. But I followed her to a pub, and we ended up watching a game together. And last week, I asked her to dinner, and she told me she’d think about it. I was making progress until you showed up.”