by Tara Brent
Max sits up and pulls a towel out from underneath him, and wipes his face. “According to Jackson? Or according to Vince? For best friends, they have a funky relationship.”
“Where did he go?” I ask. “I felt bad not letting him stay here.”
“The hotel texted him while we were outside. They’ve upgraded his room.”
Max gets up, and grabs an apple out of the grocery bag. He’s been freelancing since arriving in LA, since my salary can pay the rent. And though I may have fought it, I’m thankful he’s here. I’d be grateful if he cleaned up a little.
Max jumps on the couch with me. “This place is a mess. Who’s Jane? What did you tell him about Lucas?”
“Jane is a girl you are dating,” I reply calmly, “I told him it was your girlfriend’s kid, and we babysit for her.”
Max chokes on his apple. “That’s why he was weird. You need to tell him the truth. He’s probably on the phone with Vince discussing us.” Max sits up and glares at the floor. “Where’s my phone? I need to go on CuteMeet to find a girl named Jane.” He shakes his head. “Maya, this is weird. This whole situation has gotten too weird.”
I used to never lie. Maybe a fib on a desperate occasion, but never a big ass lie. The temper tantrum Vince threw when Jackson asked me out was disturbing. But if Vince had known I was pregnant by his oldest friend, I dread to think about it. Max was right about them. They had a funky relationship. I guess that’s why it’s a secret too.
I hold a little turquoise sneaker in my hand. “I really meant to tell him,” I speak softly.
“But you didn’t,” Max replies, “Jackson ought to know, Maya. It’s his kid.”
“I told you. He doesn’t want kids. I’m scared of the look he’ll give me. That look of hate.”
Max shakes his head. “He’s a responsible man. More responsible than he gets credit for, especially from Vince. And you know how that feels. Plus, he wants you enough to fly out here. Suck it up, Maya, and tell him at dinner.”
***
Max drops me off later to pick up my car from the office. I scowl at the empty building as if I could hurt its feelings. In my head, I hear Jackson’s deep voice telling me again that I can always come home. I’d run back with my tail in between my legs if it were that easy. I’m a coward who traded entrepreneurship for security. I hate my job. I hate my apartment. I hate my life. I’ve never been so miserable except for one little thing—my sweet baby.
I stop by The Helping Hands Daycare to pick Lucas up. It tugs at my heart to be away from my baby, but I know he’s safe here. It might be different if I liked my job. But I hate it, and not seeing my baby makes it worse. I should’ve faced my demons and admitted I was pregnant. I could have invested my buyout like Tiff did hers, instead of running away. She’s living on the interest in South Carolina. Every day I’m proving to myself how stupid I am. My inner voice is not being a friend.
“Hi Bailey,” I call out as I step into a large playroom that’s best described as a cheerful box of crayons. The daycare occupies the first floor of a ranch near work. It’s filled with bright colors and never-ending smiles courtesy of Bailey and her staff. I walk over to Lucas in his crib, and he laughs as I sweep him up into my arms. Suddenly, my shitty day turns completely around when Lucas smiles his toothless grin at me.
“Who’s mama’s little man?” I coo as he kicks his legs and laughs. “Oh, you smell like you had a diaper change.”
“Just changed his diaper,” says Bailey as she tugs on Lucas’s toe. “He’s the sweetest baby ever. Smiles all day long, Maya.” I suspect Bailey smiles all day too. A year older than me, she’s been taking care of younger kids for spending money since she was eleven.
I press Lucas to my cheek. “He makes my days at work bearable.”
Bailey pats my shoulder. “You’re not the only parent who says that.”
Lucas settles into his car seat, and I place a kiss on the forehead. I should just drive over to the hotel and show Jackson his son. But I drive on automatic back to my apartment instead. Max comes downstairs to help me with the car. Smiling, I watch him hold Lucas. In an earnest voice, Max speaks baby talk while cuddling his nephew. And I know I’m wrong. I have to tell Jackson.
“I’m going to text him,” I tell Max as I drag the diaper bag and car seat up the steps. “I will see him tonight and tell him.”
“Good,” Max replies, walking into the apartment, “Because he texted me about dinner this week.”
I sigh, dropping the stuff to the floor and pulling Lucas out of Max’s arms. “I’m not going to put you on the spot. Or make you find a girl named Jane.”
“It’ll work out, Maya,” he reassures with a kind look, “Jackson may surprise you.”
Max offers to babysit when Jackson offers to take me to dinner, so I get dressed up and prepare to do one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. Tell Jackson he’s a father. I pull out all the stops as if it’s a special date night. Fondly, I reminisce about the times we drove into the city. My favorite part wasn’t the fancy five-star restaurants but sitting by his side on the car ride in and out. Those moments together made me feel like we were a couple. The casual chit-chats back and forth while we decompressed in each other’s company. No need to impress each other because we knew each other. Well, we did back then. I polish my nails and hot iron my hair. I do everything except well, there won’t be any sex, so I don’t need to worry about that.
“Wow, Maya, you look like you should be on a magazine cover.” Max is holding Lucas in his arms, giving him a bottle of warm milk. “You have nothing to worry about. He’ll be jumping through hoops of fire to please you.”
I insist on driving my own car, just in case. Instead of eating at his hotel, we meet at the Waterhouse in Marina Del Rey. Impressive. It’s definitely a high-end restaurant, and I’m relieved I wore an evening dress. Jackson is waiting by the entrance, and his eyes scan my body. He’s too handsome in a black suit that fits perfectly across his broad shoulders. I want to run my chin across his stubble and take a bite. But I don’t dare act on it. A tingle travels across my skin, but I place my hand on his chest to stop him from giving me a full-body kiss.
He frowns, and I know what he’s thinking. I’m taken. The pang in my heart makes me hesitate. He stares into my eyes, and I smile softly. I hope Max is right. I won’t be able to handle the disappointment.
We’re shown to a table on the deck overlooking the marina. The lights from the boats flicker across the shimmering surface of the water as a cool breeze brushes my skin. My nerves slowly untangle themselves but not enough to untie the knot in my gut. Jackson studies my face, and I can barely look up from my menu. He orders a bottle of Chardonnay and leans back in his chair.
“Thanks for coming out tonight, Maya,” he says, “I hope I didn’t cause any problems at home.”
I meet his gaze. “It’ll be all right. It’s my mantra nowadays.”
He frowns. “Are you sure there’s not something else troubling you?”
“Why do you ask?” I close my menu and place it on the table.
“Maya, we know each other. I can tell when you’re nervous. It’s me. Right? Let’s pretend like we never dated if that helps. I’m just your old friend from home.”
I pick up the menu again as if it’s a shield and study each word written on it. Tears threaten to prick my eyes, and I don’t know why I’m stalling. Do it now, my mind shouts, but my nerves are slowly breaking down.
The waiter approaches the table. “May I take your orders?”
I nod, thankful for the reprieve. I order the fish tacos while Jackson orders a salmon. He glances over and asks for an extra plate. The waiter grins as he takes our menus off the table and leaves. My determination has evaporated into nothing as a breeze rises off the water and cools my hot forehead.
“Not quite like home,” Jackson comments, staring out at the water. The marina is full of activity as boats stir in the quiet waters. I watch the scenery as if it’s more absorbing than t
he conversation. My worries start to whip my nerves up again. I reach for my glass of water and down half the glass. I place it back on the table and wonder if Jackson will cause a scene, shout at me while he bangs his fist on the table, and call me a liar. I swallow hard and glance up at him. He has a hard look in his eyes—a dangerous look that makes my heart lurch into my throat.
The odd thing is that he’s not looking at me. I turn my head, and a man is standing behind me watching Jackson. He’s not a large man, but he has a grin on his cocky face. He’s wearing an expensive suit, but his shoes could use a good shine. The man looks slightly familiar. I look back at Jackson, and I’m forgotten as he scowls at the man.
The man walks up to the table. “Hello, Jackson.” He glances at me then looks back at Jackson. “I see you finally made it to LA.”
Jackson takes the napkin off his lap and throws it onto the table. “What are you doing here, Derrick?”
“The same as you.” He shrugs his shoulders. “Enjoying the weather.” The man nods toward me. “Is this Vince’s little sister?”
Jackson stands up from the table and steps in between me and Derrick. He leans into the other man’s face. “Come with me,” he growls.
Derrick looks at me, a look that makes my skin crawl until I shudder. I know of him, but he seems to know Jackson very well. I take a sip of my wine as I watch them over by the railing. Jackson’s back is to me, but I can tell by the way his jacket stretches across his back that he’s angry. Derrick has a weaselly expression on his face—a permanent smirk that anybody would want to smack off.
Bits and pieces of their heated conversation drift back to our table. Derrick demands dates, and Jackson demands that promises not be broken. The man meets my gaze, and I freeze like a startled animal in the way of a speeding car. Jackson glances over at me, and I swear I hear the words—leave her alone. Derrick laughs at Jackson’s threat. They part, and Jackson watches the man as he passes our table.
“Last time,” he says, “you understand?”
Derrick stops, and his gaze rests on me. “I’m Derrick Harrison, by the way.” He holds out his hand, but I won’t touch it. “We grew up in the same neighborhood. I know your brother Vince, but you wouldn’t remember me.”
I shake my head. “No, I don’t.”
Derrick smiles. “Nice to meet you...Maya.”
Jackson remains standing and watches Derrick until he’s gone from view. He sits down and places the napkin back on his lap. Silently, the waiter had been waiting patiently to serve our meals. He asks if we need anything else, we say no in unison, and quickly he leaves the table.
A funky relationship. That’s what Max had called it. Sure, I knew that Vince and Jackson used to run back and forth, carrying bags of money to old men who hung out at the butcher shop. But that was when we were kids. Now, we’re adults with real jobs. They deal with wall street types in brick houses, not gangsters in dark alleys.
I recall that Vince didn’t seem terribly upset when Max and I told him we were moving out of state. In fact, he seemed relieved.
I force myself to eat a bite of my food, but the lump in my throat makes it nearly impossible to swallow. My mind is quiet, and my body is still. I won’t say a word about Lucas, not tonight. And maybe never.
“I’m sorry about that, Maya.” Jackson eats a forkful of salmon. “He’s a jerk from the old days. He thinks we should still be friends.”
“He knows Vince?” I ask.
“Yeah, we hung out together, but Vince doesn’t talk to him anymore.” Jackson chews his salad and nods his head. “You should try this.”
I don’t. “I’m sorry about not telling you that I met someone. I should’ve told you.”
Jackson puts down his fork and stares out at the water, composing his thoughts into sentences. He shakes his head. “It’s okay, Maya. I respect your decision to move on. It would have been difficult to keep a relationship going without being together. Your new guy is a lucky man.”
I nod but don’t respond. I place a forkful of food in my mouth instead. And struggle to eat another bite before I give up. I shouldn’t be hurt. I should be relieved that Jackson agrees with me. And I should be concerned more about what I think I may have seen. It doesn’t matter how logically I think this all through. It still hurts. I excuse myself and hurry off to the ladies’ room.
I return to the table, and Jackson is paying the bill and tipping the waiter. He tells us not to rush, but we’re both ready to leave. The ambient noise of the other diners talking has been a substitute for our own conversation. We barely look at one another as we head for the door. Once outside, I realize I’m holding my breath when I feel Jackson’s hand rest on the back of my waist.
“Let me walk you to your car,” he says.
I nod. But before I can get in, Jackson pulls me into a hug. For a moment, I cling to him as a tear slides down my cheek.
“Are you okay?” he asks, cupping my cheek in his hand as he brushes the tear away with his thumb.
I nod. “I feel like my childhood is officially over. I thought I’d celebrate being an adult, but I feel empty instead.”
He nods and then steps away. “It was good seeing you again, Maya.”
I glance up at the rearview, and Jackson is watching me as I pull off onto Palawan Way. I cry the entire ride home. Actually, I’m bawling with my mouth hanging open as I suck in deep breaths. I don’t care if I look crazed driving down the freeway in my Honda with my face shiny and wet. My sobs are louder than Lucas’ when he’s hungry for his bottle. I had big plans for a fantastic night, and it all turned to shit. I just want to get home and hug my baby.
Lucas is asleep in his crib, imitating an angel, so I don’t wake him. Max eyes me as I sit on the couch, still in my evening dress, eating applesauce out of a jar I found in the back of the fridge. “It’s for adults. I’m a good mom.”
“I didn’t think otherwise. I thought you’d eaten,” Max says.
“I didn’t tell him,” I tell him between mouthfuls.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Maya. It wasn’t an easy thing to do. And if all else fails, send a text.”
I point my spoon at him. “I’m not doing that.”
Max frowns. “He’s here, and you still have a chance to tell him.”
I put down the applesauce, and I’m too upset to lie down, so I attempt to clean the clutter. I grab a teddy bear off the floor beside Max’s foot. I must look like Cinderella after midnight.
“Maya...” Max has a tone in his voice that galls me.
“When have you ever heard Jackson say he wanted a child?” I shout.
Max is quiet as he watches me pick up his sneaker off the floor. He knows Jackson wants a child as badly as he wants a wife. And that’s not at all.
“Once I tell him,” I protest loudly. “That’s it. All our lives will change.”
“A bit dramatic,” he replies, crossing his arms. “Everyone might be happy.”
“Really? Because Vince will flip out.”
“I think he’s going to flip out when he finds out he has a nephew,” replies Max. “Please don’t wait until the kid can drive to tell him.”
I toss the sneaker missing his thick head. “Max, let me make it clear. Vince is dead set against Jackson and me. I saw something tonight that disturbed me. Have you ever wondered why they’re still friends?”
I know Max has thought about it, but I’m curious to see what he’ll say.
Max inhales. “They grew up together, so therefore they are friends.”
I shake my head in disbelief. “How many people are you still friends with from childhood?”
Max picks up his sneaker but doesn’t answer.
“Exactly,” I reply, “Vince and Jackson have a partnership, not a friendship, and it involves something we don’t know about. That’s why Vince is so adamant I have zero to do with Jackson.”
Max pretends to be absorbed in his sneaker, but he’s listening.
“What are they doing togeth
er?” I ask him.
Max shrugs. “Maya, I’m not sure, but I know Vince doesn’t want to do it anymore.”
“But Jackson does?” I ask.
Max frowns. “It seems so.”
I sit down heavily. Whatever it is, I don’t want my baby exposed to it. “What do you think they’re involved in?”
Max shrugs. “Don’t know. Vince is tightlipped about his life. He only expresses himself when he’s commenting on ours.”
I lay my head on Max’s shoulder, and he places his arm around my shoulders. “Well, I hope it didn’t follow Jackson out here.”
A part of me still wants Jackson, but I have a baby to protect from something shady. But it could be anything. His father had gambling debts, and I knew Jackson was paying them off. Maybe Jackson just needed some money, and I still had some in my account.
“I want you to figure out what’s going on,” I tell Max. “Find out what they’re up to.”
A shocked Max looks like I pinched him. “Vince doesn’t talk to me. He talks to Jackson. He tells me what to do. Why you think I moved out here with you? Sorry, I also came out here to help out.”
I shake my head. “I get it why we both came out here.”
“Go out with him again,” says Max, “and find out what they’re up to yourself.”
“He’ll tell you,” I protest.
“Nope, it has to be you,” replies Max. “He’s still into you, and he didn’t take it well when you left. You know his dad’s gotten worse.”
I turn to face my brother. “He said his dad was better. He told me Ted was hanging in there.”
Max tosses the sneaker up in the air and catches it in one hand. “Well, there you have it. You’re both good at keeping secrets.”
Chapter 10
Jackson
Maya looked stunning tonight when she walked into the restaurant in her white dress. It’s one of my favorites, showing some skin but classy too. Every head turned in the place when she glided toward our table on my arm. The diamond ring was still in my suit pocket. I was determined to tell her what I wanted, which was her. Fuck the boyfriend. She had been mine first. But after dinner, it was over for good.