by Lisa Lace
I shake my head. “No, it’s lovely here. Beautiful music.”
“Clair de lune.”
“I’m sorry?”
He nods towards the pianist. “Debussy. That’s what he’s playing.”
“Oh.”
I don’t know what to say. Vincent is so sophisticated and refined, but I’m pretty sure I still have some dried paint in my hair.
Vincent laughs. “I’m sorry. I’m sure you didn’t come here for a lesson in classical music. I have a habit of showing off like that, and coming off as the most pretentious jerk in the room.”
I smile. “I don’t think you’re pretentious.”
“At least that’s something, then. I thought I’d blown it already.”
There’s a flutter in my chest. Imagine a billionaire like Vincent Oswald worrying about making a bad impression on someone like me. He could find a dozen Lily Millers anywhere he turned. But there aren’t that many Vincent Oswalds.
“What brings you to Payson?” I ask him.
“Business.” He chuckles. “It’s always business.”
A waiter arrives. “Would you care to see the wine list, sir?”
Vincent holds up his hand. “No need. We’ll take the 1953 Chateau Latour from my private selection.”
“Very good, sir.”
There’s a moment’s pause. I am left stunned by Vincent’s decisive and extravagant order. I don’t know much about wine, but I’m aware that 1953 is a hell of a vintage.
I try to bring my mind back to the conversation we were having before the waiter arrived. Vincent was saying he was here on business.
“I bet it’s a lot of pressure, doing what you do,” I say.
“Not as much as you’d think.” His smile is self-assured. “And what about you, Lily? You’re an artist, aren’t you?”
“Aspiring.” I reply while twisting my napkin between my fingers and darting another nervous glance at Vincent. “I mean, I have a few clients, but I guess you could say I’m still waiting for my big break.”
“There’s no such thing, Lily. You make your own luck in this world. You don’t need to wait for some miracle to get you noticed—you have to go out there and take what’s yours.”
“That’s what you did?”
He straightens in his seat and rolls his empty wine glass in his palm, a confident smile playing on his lips. “Of course.”
There is something powerful about this man; he exudes control. I’m enticed by his appeal, pulled in by his gravity. I wonder what it’s like to live in Vincent’s world.
The wine arrives, already uncorked. Vincent pours the silky red Bordeaux into my glass, and then fills his own. I watch him swirl the liquid and inhale the bouquet before taking his first mouthful.
I taste my own. It has a deep flavor, rich and warm, far more complex than anything I’ve had before. It slides down my throat and makes me heady after one sip.
“You know,” he says, his eyes fixed on mine, “I was doubtful about Destiny, but it has certainly matched me with a very beautiful woman.”
“I’m shocked you used it. Research, you said?”
“I like to keep on top of what is happening in the industry. Destiny was making waves. You know, it was developed by another Paysonite. Maybe you’ve heard of him—Ethan Steele?”
“Yes, I’ve heard of him.” I inject some uncertainty into my voice, as though it’s an effort to recall Ethan’s name, then quickly turn away and take another sip of wine.
“It’s a small world, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” I clear my throat and catch Vincent’s eye.
His gaze is magnetic; it holds me in its grip. His eyes are dark and intense, incredibly focused, like he’s got his mind set on something. It’s strange to see that darkness in those eyes when he’s looking at me.
“What business are you in town for?”
“Technology convention.”
“Interesting.”
He grins. “You don’t have to pretend. My work’s boring as hell. Forget it. I want to know more about you.” He leans in, folding his arms across the table.
I’m at the center of his gaze. The restaurant slips away, and I’m held so tightly in his stare that nothing else remains.
My body responds. My heart is fluttering like a frightened hummingbird beneath my ribs, and I can hear my blood rushing in my ears. Is this adrenaline, or desire?
I can’t tell. Maybe it’s both.
“What do you want to know?”
“Everything.”
We stand outside the restaurant. The date has gone by in a blur like I’m coming to the end of a surreal dream.
Vincent’s limousine is waiting. “I’m staying at the Penza Hotel,” he tells me. He glances at his watch. “It’s still early. Would you care for a drink at the bar with me?”
I don’t know why I’m filled with panic, but I am. It’s all too much and too suspicious. I am underdressed and overwhelmed, and I still don’t know why Vincent Oswald has shown up here today. He could have any girl in the world, and he’s here with me.
I can only reason that he does something like this in every town he stops in. Maybe he beds a woman on every business trip, knowing that no girl will ever say no.
“I don’t think so,” I say. “I don’t like to leave my cat alone too long.”
He raises an eyebrow. He knows I’m making excuses, but he doesn’t press me. “I’d like to see you again.”
“You would?”
“Of course. I’ve had an enchanting evening.”
Now I’m almost regretting not going to the hotel. Perhaps Vincent Oswald is more sincere than I give him credit for.
I drink in his handsome, angular face, and strong, lean body, and breathe in the scent of his cologne. It’s too easy to imagine our bodies writhing together in some penthouse hotel room, twisting in silk sheets. My heart races at the thought.
The fantasy is quickly followed by a harsh dose of reality. Vincent is here for business, and for all I know, he’ll be gone by Monday. What am I willing to give for one night with a billionaire? Rich man or not, I don’t want to be used.
“You have my number. If you’re in town long enough, I’d love to meet again.”
“Let me take you home.”
“I think I’ll walk.”
“Please, Lily, it’s late.”
I smile. “I thought you said it was early.”
“I mean, it’s dark. Come on, get in. I never let a lady walk home alone at night.”
I agree and step toward the car. Vincent places his hand on the small of my back as I stoop to enter the limousine. It makes me shudder with excitement.
The limousine’s interior is soft, buttery black leather. Vincent asks for my address and instructs the chauffeur to drive. The driver catches my eye in the mirror, smiles, and closes the shutter between us. I’m not sure I like the way he smirks.
I lean into the door, away from Vincent, one leg crossed over the other.
He slides across the leather so that he’s sitting close beside me. One arm is thrown over the back of the seat, his fingers casually brushing against my shoulder. It’s tempting to lean into him, let him rest his hand on my knee, lift my lips to his, and let everything else fade away. But the driver’s smirk is still in my mind.
“When were you last in Payson?” I ask.
Vincent closes his eyes, thinking. “A long time ago. Before college.”
“Where did you study?”
“Columbia.”
“You did? I guess you know Ethan Steele, then?”
He raises an eyebrow, his lips twisting into a strange smile. “You know Ethan went to Columbia? I thought you didn’t know him.”
I flush red and shrug. “I must have read it somewhere.”
“Yes. As a matter of fact, I did know him.”
I shouldn’t ask any more questions. I don’t need to torture myself. I ask him anyway. “What did you think of him?”
“He struck me as someone who was out of his league.”
Vincent’s answer makes me sad. I never could imagine Ethan at some Ivy League university, working himself to death. He was too free to tie himself to a degree and a corporate career.
“He did well enough for himself in the end.”
“Yes. Yes, he did.”
We arrive at my apartment, and I’m not sure how to end the night. I open my mouth to thank Vincent for the meal, but he stops me with a kiss that takes me by surprise. It’s deep and powerful. I’m shocked, and I sink into it, losing myself for a moment.
He tastes like vintage wine and inconceivable luxuries. Vincent pulls back, smiles. “Good night, Lily.”
“Good night.”
I’m breathless, but I step out of the limousine and close the door. I look back over my shoulder. I want to see Vincent’s expression when he sees the dilapidated apartment block where I live.
The limo’s windows are black, and I can’t see him. When I enter the lobby, the limo drives away.
I shut the door behind me and slump against the wall. A ball of nerves in my chest suddenly releases itself and turns into butterflies.
Loudly, I squeal, then quickly cover my mouth with my hand and glance around in case anyone heard me. I’m alone. A giggle rises in my throat, and I’m laughing. I feel like Cinderella—funny, it’s almost midnight. I race up the stairs to my apartment.
Chloe will never believe this!
Ethan
“Explain it to me again, Ethan. Why on earth do you want to go to Arizona?”
“The Payson convention—I told you.”
“Yes, you told me, and it’s complete bullshit. The New York Cyber Fair is this weekend. That’s a huge promo opportunity, and you want to go to some village hall in Arizona? Tell me what’s going on.”
I set my laptop into its case and pull the zipper around. Ever since I told her to book the jet, Jennifer has been on my back about this weekend. She’s sharp—that’s why she’s my right-hand woman.
“Mitchell can handle the Cyber Fair on his own. I trust him.”
“The press wants you, Ethan.”
“I’m sure they’ll find some other poor businessman to stalk for a few days.”
“Payson’s your hometown, right?”
I raise my eyebrow and give her a stern look over my shoulder.
“What? Forgive me for paying attention. Come on, Ethan—this isn’t a business trip. Be straight with me. What’s really going on in Payson? Is there something with your family?”
Slinging the laptop case over my shoulder, I turn toward her. “You know I don’t have family.”
“You had some kind of life before New York, though.” Jennifer stands before me with concern in her eyes. “I hope you’d tell me if something was wrong. You know I care.”
“I know.” I offer her a reassuring smile. “It’s a Vincent thing.”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake, Ethan!” Jennifer’s concern disappears with a roll of her eyes. “Can’t you forget about him for five minutes? The Cyber Fair is far more important than settling whatever beef you have.”
“It’s complicated, Jennifer. Trust me, okay?”
“Fine. Just keep the big picture in mind. Don’t let the defense contract slip away because you’re too busy throwing stones at Vincent.”
I’ve survived another of Jennifer’s scoldings. No other employee would dare talk to me like that, but Jennifer has always said her piece without hesitating. I like that about her. “You have my word.”
Her face softens. “Have a safe journey, then. Your luggage should already be in the limo, and make sure you double check with James before you head off. I’ve arranged a private apartment rental for you in Payson. The details are in the file I gave you earlier. Let me know if you’re going to be away longer than planned. I’ll sort it out.”
“Thanks, Jennifer.”
It’s strange to leave New York. The city has hidden me for a long time.
I board my jet, and we take off. As the skyscrapers and bright lights fade away, I recall a little town I’ve tried hard to forget. Payson, Arizona—I’m coming home.
I’m frozen at the graveside in my black suit. It’s raining sideways, and my damp collar is rubbing against my neck. I stare at the soil. My jacket is growing colder and heavier with each passing minute.
Lily folds down her black umbrella—it’s doing her no good anyway. She shivers. Her hair, smooth this morning, is now frizzy, minuscule droplets of rain clinging to each strand. The black dress she’s wearing is new. Lily never wears black.
Long after the other mourners have moved on, we’re still here. I can’t leave. Not yet.
My hands are in my pockets. Instead, Lily takes hold of my forearm and looks up at me. She opens her mouth to say something, but there are no words, and she closes it again. Her eyes are red—she’s been crying too.
“They’ve found somewhere for me to stay,” I tell her. “It’s a foster family. It’s only until I graduate. Then, who knows?”
Lily doesn’t know what to say. She rests her head against my chest, and her tears seep into my lapel. I know she begged her mom to let me stay with them, but Lily’s an innocent fifteen-year-old girl, and I’m a scary seventeen-year-old boy. I guess Lily’s mom thought it was too much.
“Will you be far away?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Good.”
My feet are sinking into the mud. My new shoes are slick and stuck with clumps of grass. They are my neighbor’s son’s. I feel bitterness so strong, I can taste it.
“My mom worked hard her whole damn life, for what? She gets sick, and each chemo session becomes a business transaction. If she’d have been some rich woman from the other side of town, she’d still be here.”
Lily blinks quickly, holding back tears. “You can’t think like that, Ethan. They did all they could.”
“On a budget.” I scowl, then shake my head. “She could have told me sooner. I’d never have quit that job. What must she have thought of me? She’s dying, and I’m acting like a brat because I don’t want to deal with real life. It’s fucking real now.”
“You couldn’t have saved her, Ethan. It was out of your hands.”
“I didn’t even try. She worked three jobs to keep a roof over our heads, and I acted like I was entitled to it because I didn’t like the feel of hard work. I did nothing to help her.”
“You’re being too hard on yourself. It wasn’t like that.”
“Yes, it was, Lily. I didn’t want to work in that store because I wanted to paint instead. That’s the hard truth of it.”
“She didn’t die because you quit your job, Ethan. She had cancer.”
“I guess it doesn’t matter now anyway. It’s too late to do anything. I let her down, and I’m going to have to find a way to live with that.”
Lily turns on her heel and stands on her tiptoes so she can grab my shoulders firmly. Her eyes are hard.
“No,” she says. “You did not let her down. You were a teenager who acted like a teenager. You didn’t kill her. You didn’t turn your back on her. You couldn’t have bought her life back with a part-time job. This is a horrible tragedy, Ethan, but it’s nobody’s fault.”
“I can’t help feeling like I should have done more.”
Lily’s hands slip from my shoulders and wrap around me. She holds me tightly in a supportive hug, and I close my arms around her. We stand entwined in the rain with nothing left to say.
She’s here for me, but she doesn’t understand. Lily has a whole family—her mom, dad, sister. There will always be someone else to share the load.
It was only my mom and me, and I didn’t pull my head out of the clouds until it was far too late. This is a wake-up call. I can’t keep pretending life doesn’t happen because you don’t want it to. It’s time to step up. To change.
Lily
After the class, Chloe dashes over to me and hops from foot to foot. “Oh, Lily, it sucks, but I’ve got another class to teach, like now, across town. B
ut we’re going to talk properly about Vincent as soon as possible.”
“I told you everything on the phone!”
“I know, but I want to go through it again. I want to know every tiny little detail.” She sighs dreamily. “You’re so lucky.”
I shrug. “It was a nice date, but I doubt he’s going to stick around for long. I’m not going to go hearing wedding bells just yet. It was dinner, that’s all.”
“I can’t believe that’s all!” Chloe replies, her voice incredulous. “You had the chance to fuck a billionaire—and not some old, gross billionaire, but Vincent fucking Oswald, one of the hottest men in New York. And what do you do? You tell him you have to feed your cat.”
I laugh. “I know, I know. But I didn’t want to be yet another notch on his bedpost.”
“Lily, you know, sometimes it’s okay to do something because it’s fun. It doesn’t have to go anywhere.”
“I get that, but there’s a difference between spending a night with a guy because you’re caught up in the moment, and it’s magical, and sleeping with a guy because it’s a cool story to tell. I bet Vincent doesn’t even remember my name by now.”
“I thought you said he wanted to meet again?”
“We’ll see. He’s probably already back in New York, bathing in caviar.”
“That sounds gross. Have you ever smelled caviar?”
“No, I’ve never smelled caviar, and before last night, I’d never drunk a ’53 Chateau Latour. It’s all a bit much, don’t you think?”
“Are you crazy? That sounds like heaven.”
I make a face. “I don’t know. It didn’t feel like me.”
“Only because you’ve never been spoiled by a man before. Don’t write him off yet, Lily, merely because he’s making you experience things outside your comfort zone. I bet most women he dates are into that—give yourself a chance to get to know him. Didn’t you say he was funny?”
“Yes. He is funny.” I smile. “He asked me out again, and I said I’d go, but I might cancel. What if he’s only passing the time while he’s in town?”
“You’re such a cynic.”
“And you’re late! When does your class start?”