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by Kristen Kelly


  How was it that when he was lecturing me about food, what I actually I heard was, I want you, Liz. I want you naked and healthy. You are mine.

  I ripped off the paper and took a huge bite. I hated being told what to do. I hated that I couldn’t stop thinking about those piercing blue eyes. The crooked smile that melted my heart. The way his touch kindled flames.

  I jumped to my feet. It seemed I waited a lifetime before Tabitha exited Delilah’s room.

  When she saw me, she glared. I was taken aback when she looked at me with an expression of pure animosity. Where the hell did that come from?

  Tabitha flipped her blonde bangs out of her face. I didn’t exactly know what to say to her and we’d never talked. Ever. “What the hell are you doing here?” She was staring at me like I was the devil incarnated. Heels clipping along the hard tiled floor, she finally stood before me with her hands on her hips. “This is your doing, isn’t it?”

  I stared back. Mouth open. Unable to speak.

  “Well, you better be the right one for him, because if you’re not, I swear I’ll hunt you down. You got that?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said.

  “Yeah, right,” she said with a flippant tone of voice. Then she turned on her heel, leaned against the painted cement wall, and took out her phone. She made no attempt to hide her conversation. “Get me a flight out of this godforsaken town asap, Jonathan. No. No, I’m not staying until she…What the hell difference does that make?” A pause. “That’s the very soonest you can get…? All right. Fucking conference! Book the damn thing.”

  She dropped the phone into a large Gucci purse and stared in my direction. “Looks like I’m here until tomorrow morning.”

  “Listen, I don’t know what you’re problem is with me but this isn’t doing anybody any good.” She was beginning to piss me off.

  Her pouty pink lips flexed and her face seemed to soften a bit. “I just hope you’re worth it,” she spat.

  The hair on the back of my neck stood out. I could feel my temper escalating, my body going rigid, and all I could think of was the word, Bitch. How dare she talk that way to me! When she strolled out of the room and I didn’t see her again, I thanked the gods in heaven.

  It took me a long time to calm down. I spent that time pacing the hallways. That was getting me nowhere, I decided.

  To occupy my brain, I thought of all the thing I wanted to do. Plans for an art show with all the paintings I’d hidden in Jason’s attic.

  Jason is going to be thrilled, I thought excitedly. He’d always told me how good I was, but I hadn’t believed it myself. I still didn’t, but I would fake it until I made it. And if I didn’t, who the fuck cared? At least, I tried.

  I a started thinking of myself as an artist. I could do this. I’d never had my own showing, but I’d never swam before either. Now, I swam like a fish. A dead fish, but still a fish. My heart squeezed when I thought of my lessons with Damon. Maybe I would call him once we reached New York. I wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to do, but for the time being, it made me feel better about not telling him goodbye.

  As I walked along the corridors of the hospital, my mind blocked out the surroundings.

  Fresh thoughts developed in my head. I didn’t think I had enough paintings for a show, so I would welcome some of my favorite artists to show their works beside my own. I knew exactly where I’d have it too. The Loft at 600 F! The exposed brick and wrought iron accents were perfect, and I loved the feel of the place. Maybe too many windows, but we could always add heavy block out shades and set everything on easels or pedestals. I planned on serving wine, and those tiny little canapés with shrimp. Admission would be free and soft music could play in the background. Not loud though. Nothing to take away from the calm whispering atmosphere that accompanied such events.

  I turned a corner, letting my thoughts take root. When I saw an billboard for a heart-health-event, it got me thinking.

  I quickened my steps. How would I advertise about the art show? How would I get people there? I thought of who to approach for publicity and a new thought struck me. I’d offer a free cocktail for the first fifty people who arrived.

  Adrenaline tweaked my pulse.

  This would be the biggest thing I’d ever done in my life, a celebration and break from my not so flattering past. Goose bumps poke on the back of my arms as ideas flooded my brain. I was so much in my head, I didn’t hear the nurse. “Elizabeth?” she said, touching my arm.

  “What?”

  “Elizabeth Doyle?”

  “That’s me.”

  “She wants to see you now.”

  “Oh. Oh, wonderful. Thank you.” And just like that my mood deflated.

  ***

  As I made my way back to the waiting room, I came upon Damon holding a cup of coffee. “Oh, hey.”

  “Hey, yourself.”

  He looked sleep-deprived, his blue eyes lacking their usual luster, and his hair needed washing. “I thought I’d miss you. I’m glad I didn’t. We need to talk.”

  My heart did a little happy dance. “We do, but first….well, let’s take a rain-check on that for now, okay? Your grandmother wants to see me.”

  “As you wish,” he said mockingly. He reached for my hand and kissed it, his blue eyes looking up. “You remember that movie, The Princess Bride?”

  “Oh yes!” How did he know? Those three little words had been ingrained on my adolescent brain.

  Chuckling, he leapt back, brandishing a make-believe sword. He lowered his eyes and spoke with a deep pitched voice. “My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.” I couldn’t help giggling even after his arms wrapped around me. And after his voice changed. “Liz,” he breathed. “I wish you weren’t leaving me.”

  My heart nearly broke. “That’s what I want to talk to you about. But later. Okay?”

  “Sure.”

  I glanced toward Delilah’s room. “Are they sure about…?”

  “Afraid so. Yes.”

  “Dammit.” My eyes misted over. I wondered if it was such a good thing that I’d come to the hospital. I wasn’t used to being around people who were dying. Actually, this was my first. And what did one say to so someone who was at death’s door? Hey, how are you? See you later? I wish it was me and not you? The whole idea of walking into that hospital room made me more uncomfortable than I could have imagined.

  “Hey,” Damon said taking me by the hand while he wiped a tear from my eye with his other. “It will be all right?”

  “Yeah, I’m just dreading going in there.”

  “Want me to go with you?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  “Then let’s go in before we change our minds.”

  With Damon’s strong arm slung around my shoulder for support, I walked into Delilah’s hospital room. My eyes grew wide as I took in the flowers, the sweet scented air, and a large stuffed teddy bear holding lavender and pink helium balloons. Beside the bear were several photographs in gold and rhinestone frames of what I assumed were pictures of Tabitha and Damon as children. I’d be willing to bet no two children could have had a better mother. I envied them that one.

  “Hello Elizabeth,” she said weakly. “Damon, you can go now.”

  “Grandmother? I just…” He looked to me, and then back to Delilah, a puzzled expression on his handsome face.

  “I said you can go,” she repeated. “Don’t make me…” She started coughing, and tried to pull herself upright. She fell back hard against the pillow.

  A look of horror swept Damon’s face and he nodded. “I’ll be right outside,” he mouthed.

  I was just as confused as he was, and couldn’t think of a single reason Delilah would have to talk to me alone unless…

  “My poor boy,” Delilah apologized. “It takes a lot out of me to project my voice, but I do love him so.” She took a deep breath. Two bags of fluids hung by her head. One with blood, the other clear. Three tubes were attached to o
ne arm, a nasal cannula inside her nose, and an oxygen tank wheezed and hissed nearby. “Now, come here, Elizabeth.”

  She surprised me by pulling herself up in the bed until she was upright wearing lipstick and long dangling earrings. A tight smile spread over her pale face.

  “Grab a chair, sweetness,” she said. “I don’t have much time, and I need to see your eyes when I tell you want I have to say.”

  I took the chair beside Delilah’s bed.

  “How have you been?” she asked.

  “What?” How have I been? The woman was dying and she asks me how I’ve been!

  “Fine,” I said. “And you?” Oh my god. I did not just say that. I blushed scarlet red.

  She patted my hand and it was the kindest most thoughtful gesture I’d ever witnessed. “You’re young,” she said. “You aren’t used to people dying on you. It’s okay. Nothing to be afraid of. Everyone does it sooner or later.”

  I nodded, tight lipped, still not sure what was the right thing to say. “Are you in pain?”

  “No.” She smiled brightly. “Actually, I’m kinda high right now.” She glanced up toward the pole with a little box and some sort of gage attached to it. “The drugs they give me here are pretty spectacular. You should try them.”

  I giggled but my heart wasn’t in it.

  She squeezed my hand. “You know, I think if we had met years ago, we would have been very good friends throughout our lives.” She grinned. “On second thought, if I were twenty years younger, we may have been rivals too.” She tried to laugh but it came out strangled. “I mean with men.”

  Sitting as close to her as I was, I saw the weariness in her eyes. It was then that I realized how important it was to Delilah that no one see her at her lowest. Hence, the lipstick and earrings. It didn’t matter so much that she was dying, just that people remembered her as she was. It wasn’t vanity. Not at all. She was a proud lady. A good woman.

  “Elizabeth…”

  Her voice had lowered to a whisper so I leaned closer. “Your father came to see me.”

  My heart dropped into the pit of my stomach.

  “I hope I’m not offending you but…he’s a miserable old bastard isn’t he? Hard to believe you came from such a man.”

  “He’s my step father actually.”

  “Oh thank god. That certainly puts my mind at ease.”

  My skin crawled with unease. Had Jake told her all about my past, how he’d prostituted me at the age of twelve? About my failed romances? That I’d tried to commit suicide?”

  She squeezed my hand again and I knew it took every ounce of strength in that frail tiny body. “He did tell me a lot about you, dear, but so what. It doesn’t matter, Elizabeth. None of that matters.”

  I sighed with relief, searching her face but all I saw was sincerity and love.

  “What does matter is I see how you look at my grandson. At…Damon. I haven’t seen him this happy in a very long time. And I want that for him. I want him to be with a woman who adores him. A woman with not only brains but the enthusiasm for sex to keep him in line.” She winked at me this time. “You know what I mean by keep him in line?”

  “I do, yes,” I said, feeling my face heat up.

  “That’s why I’ve decided to sign the Club over to you, my dear.”

  “I…What!?”

  “I’m signing the Club over to you.”

  Holy shit! This was not what I expected her to say. Or do. Or… Holy shit!

  “But…but you can’t. It’s Damon’s. Why would you? I…I don’t know anything about running a business. I don’t know a thing!” The discomfort in my belly turned to sharp anxious fear. How would Damon accept this? And why would Delilah do such a thing? She must be delirious. She must think we’re married or something.

  I tried to explain that it made no sense. “Delilah, I don’t even live here in Washington. I was only visiting. Remember? I’m leaving this evening to go back home. I have a plane booked and everything. To go back to New York. Where I live. Where I…”

  A little fire lit up her eyes. “Don’t talk to me like I’m demented! I know you don’t live here!”

  “Oh.”

  I looked at her, incredulous. Not only did I have absolutely no knowledge of how to run a business, but did she actually think I could do it from New York?

  “You’ll be back,” she said.

  I took a deep breath. “I can’t accept this, Delilah. I’m sorry, but it should go to one of your grandchildren. Damon or Tabitha. I don’t even want it. I’m flattered you think so much of me but…”

  “It’s already in the hands of the lawyers, my dear. It’s done.”

  “Done?”

  “Yes. As in… I can’t change it back.”

  Oh God.

  Chapter TWENTY

  Damon

  When I saw the expression of pure horror on Liz’s face, the way she looked away from me, like it pained her to relive what just happened, I thought the worst thing possible. My grandmother was dead. She had to be. It was written all over Liz’s face. But when I glanced inside the room, and saw her sitting up, I knew I’d been wrong.

  Bewildered, I touched Liz’s arm. “You all right?” She didn’t answer, just stood there biting her lip. “Liz?”

  “I didn’t ask for it. She just…She…I don’t know why she gave it to me, but she did.”

  “What are you talking about?” Something inside my gut twisted.

  “I don’t…I don’t even know anything about how to run a business, much one of this size.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Your grandmother, or whomever you think she is…”

  “Wait. What?”

  “Oh my god. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t supposed to…”

  I grabbed her arms more forcefully than I’d intended. “Liz, what are you saying? Is there something I should know about?”

  “She’s…she’s not related to you. She found you and your sister after you were abandoned and…”

  “She’s lieing,” I had to sit down before I fell down. “None of this makes any sense. What else did she tell you?”

  When Liz burst into tears I couldn’t help shouting at her. “Liz! Liz, what else did she tell you?”

  I knew about her father, and I hoped it wasn’t what I thought it was. I prayed the old broad hadn’t signed over my inheritance to a perfect stranger.

  “Did she tell you something about the Club?”

  Liz nodded as she stared at the floor. “She signed it over to me.”

  “To you? What the hell!”

  She looked up at me, and all I saw was determination. “What do you mean, what the hell!. I don’t know why she did it but she did so don’t look at me like that. And I don’t’ want it. I’ll just sign it over to you and…”

  “So that’s what this was all about? Seriously, Liz? This is why your old man showed up out of the blue throwing his money around?” I shot from the chair, seeing red.

  I started pacing.

  This was wrong. Very, very wrong.

  I turned back to her and it was like I was a different person. Even to me.

  I completely lost my mind.

  “The two of you are quite a pair. One cozies up to the old brawd on her death bed while the other takes over everything else. Pretty slick. Pretty damn slick, Liz. And what was I? Just a little diversion, is that it? Or did you figure if you couldn’t get through to my grandmother, you could fuck me into giving you my inheritance?”

  “What? Is that what you think? No! No, that’s not it at all.”

  She tried to grab my arm but I shook it off. “The hell is isn’t!”

  “Damon, I don’t want your fucking Club!”

  “Maybe not, but your father sure does. I’m sure he’ll pay you a hefty commission for fucking me over. All in the family, right?”

  The look on her face said it all. Shame. Guilt. And then what? Remorse? Fuck! How had I been so blind? Why didn’t I see this coming? Se
e her coming. She was just like all the rest. Only interested in money.

  She stared at me hard for several minutes, but I wasn’t budging in my anger. I looked around for something to throw. When I settled on the only portable thing in the room, a waist basket, I kicked it hard. Hard enough to send it flying down the hall. Liz jumped at the impact and then burst into tears and ran off.

 

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