by Lara Adrian
“So are you.”
I shrug. “Hey, whatever. It’s only money.”
“No, it’s not only money, Jared.” Leaning back in the chair, he studies me over the tops of his steepled fingers. “If it was only money, I could’ve funded the program myself. It’s your vision that made the art classes possible. Your connections in the art community have helped bring in top speakers and instructors from all over the world to teach and inspire kids who’d never have a chance at that kind of opportunity.”
“Your fiancée’s brought in her fair share of talent, too. And from what I hear, the classes she’s taught have been some of the most popular ones.”
He nods, and only a blind person would miss the pride that glows in Dominic Baine’s eyes at the mention of the woman he adores. “I think Avery’s having even more fun with the program than any of the students taking her classes. In fact, she’s been doing her damnedest to persuade me to expand the program across all of our centers.”
“No shit? That’s a great idea.”
“You think so?”
“Yeah, I do. I don’t know how building all those centers for disadvantaged kids became a mission for you, but it’s obvious to me that’s what they are. A mission. An important one.”
He nods, his expression sober, though not as shuttered and forbidding as I’ve so often seen it. He’s changed somehow. Still the shrewd, unbreakable man he’s always been, yet there is a deeper strength in him now, one that bores into me through the clarity of his cerulean eyes.
“I think you probably do know why, Jared. You and I aren’t so different. Maybe we had different backgrounds, came to this city from different places, but deep down we’re more alike than not. We both came through hell to get where we are now. We left behind pieces of ourselves we can never get back, but goddamn it, we’re still standing. We’re survivors.”
I can’t hold that unflinching stare. I let a curse slip past my lips as I drop my gaze and stare at the rug under my boots for what feels like an hour. I wasn’t prepared for Nick to bring up my past. He’s one of the few people who knows where I’ve come from, what I had to do in order to make it from one day—and night—to the next.
I didn’t come here to crack open that ugly part of my life, and I sure as hell don’t want to see Dominic Baine’s pity for what I’m struggling with now. I clear my throat, but my voice still comes out as a sandpaper rasp. “I’m here because I want to talk to you about Alyssa.”
It takes Nick a moment to respond. “All right,” he says, unacknowledged permission to let me dodge other subjects I prefer to leave buried. The intensity hasn’t left his gaze, but it’s replaced now with the steely, inflexible look that must serve the corporate titan very well in his boardroom meetings. “I gather Alyssa told you we’ve barred her from the rec center.”
“She did. She’s pretty broken up over it, Nick. That center is her lifeline.”
“She should’ve thought about that before she allowed her friends to vandalize and empty the place out last week.”
I curse, giving a tight shake of my head. “She didn’t allow anyone to do anything. And those kids aren’t her friends.”
“Kids?” Nick scoffs. “You want to see the security video from the break-in? They smashed their way in with sledgehammers and crowbars. They did thousands of dollars’ worth of damage before they ran out with twice that much in computers from the STEM lab and other electronics.”
“Alyssa had nothing to do with it, Nick.”
“No? Her skinhead boyfriend was the asshole leading the pack. We’ve got enough of his face on camera for me to ID him. Now, we’re just waiting for the police to track the bastard down and arrest him.”
I nod, feeling no regard for the nineteen-year-old gang leader who’s been manipulating and using Alyssa for the past year. As if turning tricks from the age of fourteen wasn’t enough, she went and got mixed up with lowlifes who can only drag her further down.
“I hope they do get him,” I mutter. “Chad Traynor’s bad news. Best thing for Alyssa would be for him to go away for a long time. Best thing for her baby, too.”
“Ah, fuck.” Nick gives me a bleak look. “She’s pregnant by that piece of shit?”
“Going on four months. She told me when she came to my house last week. Like I said, she was pretty upset after she found out she’d been banned from the rec center. She’s got nowhere else to go, Nick. Her mother’s been in and out of shelters with her since she was born, and that’s no kind of home for a seventeen-year-old girl. Those art classes are the only place she can get away from Traynor and the rest of her fucked-up living situation. She’s safe there. The center and the art classes she’s taking there give her something positive to hold on to. It gives her hope. Kid like her? Having a little hope could mean the difference between life and death.”
I know I don’t have to remind my friend how true that statement is. He knows. He’s lived it, same as me. Although Nick hasn’t said as much, I’d guess his determination to build his recreation centers throughout the city is an effort to give a few kids the kind of safe haven we both wish we’d had. Especially the troubled ones, the ones whom life would otherwise swallow up and destroy.
Nick exhales a long, slow sigh. “You believe her that she didn’t have any part in the break-in or the planning of it?”
“Damn right, I believe her. She loves the center as much as anyone, maybe more. It’s all she’s got.”
He stares at me for a long minute, then shakes his head. “It’s not all she’s got. She’s got you on her side, Jared. If you’re vouching for her, then that’s good enough for me.”
“Thanks, Nick. I appreciate you giving her another chance.”
As we stand up and shake hands, he gives me a considering look. “Maybe Avery and I could convince you to teach one of the painting classes this year.”
I chuckle. “Not a chance. Kids and me don’t mix. That goes double for my art.”
“I’m talking about teaching them basic technique, not giving them a master class on the Jared Rush method of erotic portraiture.”
A grin tugs at my mouth. “Answer’s still no.”
Besides, the last thing anyone needs is to watch my hand shaking in front of the canvas. Worse, to see my rage over it explode like it did in front of Melanie. I can’t fix that mistake now. I’m damn sure not going to subject a classroom full of kids to a similar performance.
“When’s the last time you were in the studio?” Nick asks. Since he doesn’t wait for my answer, I assume it’s because he’s aware of how long it’s been since I produced anything new. “You know, it might do you good to pick up a paintbrush and get back to work on something again.”
“Actually, I am painting. Or, was. I was at the studio in Sagg a few days ago.”
“Is that right?” He gives me a look of cautious surprise. “Who’s the lucky muse this time?”
“You don’t know her.”
One of his dark brows wings up. “I’m even more intrigued now.”
“Forget it. I don’t like to talk about my work.”
“Since when?” He balks, grinning. “The only thing bigger than your bank account is your ego, brother. No offense.”
“None taken. It’s the truth, after all.” My laugh comes easily, and I realize this is the first time I’ve felt anything close to humor in longer than I can recall. Leave it to Nick to drag it out of me, especially on a day like today. “I’m gonna leave the rec center operations and hands-on work to you and Avery. Trust me, it’s for the best.”
“You’re really not going to tell me what you’re working on? Or, rather, who?”
I consider confiding in him about the whole fucked-up thing, starting with my discovery of Daniel Hathaway’s presence in New York. Thankfully, the impulse only lasts for a second. “It’s complicated.”
He smirks. “In other words, situation normal for you.”
He’s got a point, but where my feelings about Melanie Laurent are concerned, comp
licated doesn’t even begin to describe them. There’s no point trying to explain now.
“I should go. Thanks for making time for me, Nick.”
“Anytime,” he replies, that sharp blue gaze of his too keen, too knowing. “I mean it, Jared. I know things haven’t always been smooth between us, but I’m your friend. I always will be.”
I nod. “Thanks. Likewise.”
He walks me out of his office to the spacious reception area of the executive floor. “I’ll inform the rec center that Alyssa’s welcome to return—on the condition that going forward she’s not seen with Traynor or any of his gang.”
“Understood, Nick. Again, thank you for giving her another chance.”
“Would you like to tell her, or would you prefer that I do?”
“I’ll handle it with her. For some reason, she trusts me more than most people.”
Nick grunts. “She owes you her life, Jared. Don’t think she doesn’t realize that. If anyone else had found her that night instead of you, they would’ve turned her over to the police. They would’ve done worse than that, probably.”
“I just want her to have a chance at a decent life,” I murmur, reliving the night about a year ago when a scrawny, coked-out sixteen-year-old approached me outside a club and tried to sell herself to me for fifty dollars. The flashback brings another one fast on its heels, something even more personal, one I refuse to let materialize. “I just want Alyssa to be safe.”
Nick puts his hand on my shoulder. “I’ll help you do that, if I can.”
As we talk, Andrew Beckham strolls out of his office nearby. Holding a manila file under his arm, the African American attorney approaches us. Smiling, he extends his hand to me. “Hey, Jared. How’s it going? Didn’t realize you were here.”
“I’m just on my way out, actually.”
“Jared came in to talk about what happened in Chelsea last week.”
“Ah.” Beck glances at Nick. “I spoke to the station commander down there this morning. He says they’ve got fresh a tip on Traynor’s possible whereabouts. Sounds like they expect to make an arrest any day now.”
“Good,” Nick and I say at the same time. He gives me a nod. “I’ll keep you posted on any new information we receive.”
“Appreciate it.”
The two men walk me toward the elevator. As we say our goodbyes, the chime dings with the arrival of the car on the executive floor. The doors slide open and Gabriel Noble stands there.
“Morning, Gabe,” Nick says, moving aside to let his head of security step out. “What’s going on? I haven’t seen you look that grim since . . . well, in a long time.”
“I need to take a couple hours off this morning, if that’s okay.”
“Sure, it’s okay. Anything wrong?”
Gabe slants a brief glance my way before giving his boss his full attention. “Eve just called me. I need to swing by the hospital and pick her up.”
Beck’s face goes deadly serious next to Nick. “What’s my sister doing at the hospital? Is she okay?”
“She’s fine,” Gabe assures him. “She’s been there with a friend since I dropped her off before heading in to work.”
“Anything serious?” Nick asks.
“It could’ve been worse.” I don’t miss the fact that Evelyn Beckham’s fiancé now seems intent on pretending I’m not there at all. His clipped answers and deliberate avoidance of me puts an edge of suspicion in my veins. “Eve’s friend’s mother collapsed with a blocked artery at home yesterday afternoon. She almost didn’t make it. They’ve got her under observation for the time being while they run some tests.”
“Which friend?” My question sounds more like a demand. Curt and dark, my growled reply brings all three men’s gazes swinging back to mine. “Who’s Eve with at the hospital?”
I don’t need to ask because the truth is written all over Gabe’s grim face. “I shouldn’t tell you. I heard what happened out at your studio.”
Ah, fuck. I shouldn’t be surprised that Melanie would confide in her best friend about the way I behaved. Odds are good she told Evelyn about our arrangement, too. “No wonder you looked like you wanted to deck me downstairs.”
“He still does,” Beck points out.
Nick frowns. “What happened at your studio, Jared? Who are we talking about here?”
I shake off the question with a scowl. All my focus is locked on Gabriel Noble. “Where is she? What hospital? Tell me where Melanie is.”
Beck’s frowning at me now, too. “You mean Melanie Laurent? I know Eve’s friend. What the hell was she doing out at your studio, man?”
I don’t have time to answer questions or explain the twisted reasons behind my concern for a woman I have no right to feel so possessive of right now. But I am concerned. The punch of visceral, possessive alarm hits me with the force of a tsunami.
“Damn it, Gabe. What fucking hospital?”
He grits out a low curse. “Presbyterian Queens.”
My feet are in motion as soon as the words leave his mouth. As I step past him toward the open elevator car, the muscled soldier jabs a finger in my face, his hazel eyes full of lethal warning. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing with Mel, but she’s a good person. Too good for whatever’s going on between you two. We may be friends, Jared, but if she gets hurt, you’re going to answer to me.”
I feel a tendon jerk in my jaw as we square off with each other.
“Point taken,” I utter tersely, then step into the waiting elevator and punch the button for the lobby.
20
MELANIE
Standing in the hallway outside my mother’s hospital room, I watch through the window as she sleeps. Her doctor has just left to continue his morning rounds after stopping to give me the latest update on her condition.
She’s stabilized now, but they want to keep her under observation for another day to run further tests and to make sure there are no bleeding issues with the stents they inserted into two of her severely blocked arteries. The EMTs who reluctantly let Katie and me stay at Mom’s side in the ambulance yesterday said if we’d been even a few minutes later getting her to the emergency room, we would have lost her.
Even now, the starkness of that reality hits me like a physical blow. I wipe at the sudden swell of tears that spills out the corners of my eyes.
I’ve saved my worry and tears for the few minutes here and there I’ve been able to steal away from Katie. I don’t want her to know how scared I was yesterday. I don’t want her to see how scared I still am that one day Mom’s struggling heart is going to give out for good.
At six years old, she doesn’t need to carry that fear along with me. I need to be strong for her. Strong for Mom, too. It’s not a burden I resent even for a second. Still, sometimes it would be nice to have someone I could lean on once in a while. Fortunately, I’ve got a few good friends like Evelyn Beckham on my side.
Rallying myself to head back out to the family waiting area where I’ve left Katie with Eve, I make a quick stop in the restroom for tissues to dry my eyes. I make the mistake of glancing in the mirror over the sink and I groan at the horror staring back at me. The industrial-grade fluorescent light overhead gives my red-rimmed, dark-ringed eyes and ashen skin the full zombie effect. I’m sure my breath is no better for the countless cups of bad coffee I’ve had since Katie and I arrived at the hospital with Mom.
I manage to school my expression into one of calm confidence as I make the short walk from my mother’s recovery room to the large, open space where I spot Katie reading a children’s magazine seated next to my friend.
“Sorry that took longer than I’d planned. Mom’s doctor was making his rounds and I wanted to catch him while he was on the floor.”
“No problem,” Eve says, her slender arm wrapped around Katie’s shoulders. She doesn’t voice her concern in front of my niece, but I can see it in her pale green eyes. “If you want me to stay a while longer, I can call my client and cancel her fitting.”
“No, don’t do that. You’ve been working on those lingerie designs for months. Besides, Gabe will be waiting outside to pick you up before long, anyway.”
Eve gives me a caring smile. “You’re sure? I know my client will understand if you’d like me to stay.”
“Yes, I’m sure. Katie and I will be fine here on our own. Right, kiddo?”
Katie lifts her head and nods. “Are we waiting to go home with Grandma, Aunt Melanie?”
I crouch down in front of her and brush some of her blond hair behind her ear. “Grandma’s sleeping right now, sweetheart. The doctors want to take care of her for a bit longer here at the hospital. Hopefully, she can come home tomorrow.”
When I stand up again, Eve rises with me. “You’ve both been here for more than twelve hours. Come with Gabe and me. He’ll be happy to drop you off at home to freshen up and rest for a bit. You can’t do anything more for her right now, Mel. She’s in good hands.”
“I know. And I’m fine. We won’t stay too long, promise. We’ll take the subway home before it gets dark.”
She heaves a resigned sigh, then pulls me into a brief, tight hug. “I’ll call you later to check in and make sure you’re home.”
“Okay. Good luck at the fitting.”
“Thanks.” She turns to Katie, holding her arms open to catch my niece as she pops off her chair to say goodbye to her favorite of my friends. “You take good care of your auntie for me, all right? She won’t listen to me, but I know she’ll listen to you.”
Katie bobs her head. “I’ll try. Grandma says Aunt Mellie’s stubborn like a mule when she puts her mind to something.”
Eve laughs while I gasp, feigning outrage. “What? When did she say that about me?”
Katie giggles. “All the time. ‘Specially when you boss us about eating vegetables and not staying up late watching TV.”
“Well, I’m about to get even bossier about those things. Grandma’s doctor gave me a bunch of new rules for her to follow after she comes home.”