by Amanda Usen
He followed her into the cemetery, past the above-ground vaults and crypts to a rectangular, cement-lined plot near the back. A simple headstone proclaimed their mother’s name and her dates of birth and death. He was surprised to see a single yellow rose on top of the grave. “Did you do that?”
She shook her head. “Eddie. Sometimes he comes and plays her favorite songs. They were a bit of an item back in the day. He’s younger than he looks.” She began to hum, just a few bars, and his heart ached. How many songs would he play and think of Betsy now?
“Tuxedo? Trumpet?” he asked, and she nodded. Quin felt another piece drop into place. “He asked me to tell you not to be a stranger.”
Melly made a soft noise. “Memory is a tricky thing.”
He couldn’t agree more. “I’m not staying,” he said suddenly. “I just…I mean—I don’t want you to think…” He pressed a hand to his chest and rubbed.
“It was a beautiful party tonight,” she said, seemingly apropos of nothing, but when he looked into her dark gaze, so much like his own, he sensed she already knew.
“You saw us?”
“I’ve been watching you for weeks.”
And all the while, he’d been looking for her. “I thought I wanted a courtyard, but I think I just wanted Betsy in it. I’m pretty sure I bought a hotel and a candy store and dreamed up a courtyard, just for an excuse to see her again.”
“If it helps at all, you probably wanted a courtyard, too. It was where we slept, growing up. We moved around. The gates were easy to unlock. Safer than the street.”
Another piece locked into place with an uncomfortable snap. How many pieces would it take before he felt whole? “She doesn’t want me.”
“You don’t believe that.”
“Fine—she doesn’t want me enough.”
Melly shook her head. “Try again.”
The only thing he had left was the truth. “I can’t be with a woman who keeps leaving me.”
She raised a pale red brow. “Oh? So you’re gonna take off and prove her right?” She tipped his mouth shut with one finger. “You’re catching flies, Baby Q. Tell me, have your feelings changed since she sent you racing from your hotel like a scalded dog? Did you suddenly stop loving her?”
He shook his head slowly.
“Did you break?”
“No,” he whispered, shocked to realize it was true. He’d believed one more loss would wreck him.
“Accept that gift.”
This time, he knew what she meant. Strength.
He bowed his head over his mother’s grave and summoned the courage to let go of the past. A strange sense of peace settled over him, similar to what he felt in Betsy’s arms. It was humbling and empowering, and he’d fight for it. He’d wait for it. He wasn’t going anywhere.
Melly held out a hand and he took it, as easily as if he had a thousand times before, which maybe he had.
He squeezed her hand. “Let’s go.”
Chapter Fourteen
Lila and Jenna rushed down the alley and hugged her. They straightened her gown, slicked rain off her arms and shoulders, and led her into the kitchen.
“Jack and Roman are out front,” Lila warned.
“Oh dear God.” Betsy smoothed her hair, suddenly aware she was barefoot, soaking wet, and filthy.
“We’ll be out in a minute.” Her mother shooed everyone out of the kitchen and began pulling the remaining pins and jewels from Betsy’s hair and piling them on the counter. “I’m so sorry, darling. I completely forgot they were here when I saw you in the alley.” She wiped the worst of the wet from her dress and the dirt from her legs. Gently, she used a fresh towel to clean her face. Her dark eyes were filled with an emotion Betsy couldn’t interpret. “So many people love you. Let us help.”
Betsy said nothing. She was the one who gave help, not the one who needed it. Her mother gave her an encouraging smile and opened the door to the front where her sister was pouring shots. Five sets of bright eyes looked up.
Jenna hopped off her bar stool and bounded behind the bar to embrace her, squeezing so hard Betsy squeaked. “God, Bets, I’m so sorry. We knew there was something going on. Men are scum.”
“Hey,” a gorgeous blond man, who had to be Roman, protested. “Not all men. Some of us are just misguided and need some time to figure shit out. You women do not make things easy.”
He stood and joined them behind the bar, prying Jenna off Betsy and tucking her into his side. He held out his hand. “Roman Gallagher. A pleasure to meet you.” He was tall, blue-eyed, and as sex-god-like as Jenna had described. Betsy could totally see how a man like him could inspire Jenna’s epic crush and his previous reputation as the West Coast playboy.
“Betsy Mouton, and the pleasure is all mine.”
The other man stood and walked over to them. Jackson Calabrese had redeemed himself for what he’d done to Lila in the culinary competition back at school, but Betsy hadn’t forgiven him quite yet. She crossed her arms and glared. “I’m still mad at you.”
His green gaze was cool. “Since it was your bright idea to send Lila to work for that asshole Zane Brampton, maybe I’m pissed at you, too.” His eyes filled with warmth, and he grinned. “Nah—life’s too short to hold grudges when you’re as happy as I am.” He enfolded Betsy in a bear hug and squeezed.
To her horror, a sob built in her throat. She lurched out of his arms.
Lila snapped her fingers. “That’s your cue, boys. Acme Oyster House, a few blocks that way.” She pointed. “Eat all you want, but don’t get any ideas. We’re going to be too busy plotting the demise of New Orleans’s newest hotelier to deal with you, all hopped up on raw oysters.” She shook her finger in warning. “No hookers, either.”
Their men saluted and hit the door.
“You should go with them,” Betsy said before she could stop herself. “I’m fine—really.”
Her mother cleared her throat. Loudly.
Betsy grimaced. After coming all this way, her friends deserved the truth. She took a deep breath. “No, I’m not. How did you know?”
Lila gave her a hug. “The flu doesn’t break your fingers so you can’t text.”
“Or give you laryngitis so you can’t talk, at least, not usually.” Jenna took her hand, and they led her to the front side of the bar and pushed her onto a stool. “We’ve been worried about you for weeks, and we’re not leaving until you talk to us and tell us how we can help.” Jenna snapped her fingers with mock impatience. “Spill it.”
Betsy took another deep breath and started at the beginning, glossing over what had happened the night she met Quin. And skipping the naked parts in the middle. Even so, by the time she reached the part about the beautiful courtyard lobby next door and Quin paying off the mortgage, Jenna had both hands pressed to her pink cheeks, Lila was grinning, and Betsy couldn’t even look at her mother or Kate.
Lila squeezed her hand. “Feel better?”
Surprisingly, she did, unburdened, like maybe she could get on with life without imploding, even without Quin. Misery squeezed her again. How had he become the part of her day she enjoyed the most? A choked sound from her sister pulled Betsy from the edge of tears.
Kate glared at their mother, hands on her hips. “You mortgaged the bar to pay Betsy’s tuition? Are you kidding me? I still can’t believe you let her open the café in the first place. It doesn’t pull in half of what the bar makes on a slow night, and all that time, we were drowning in debt? Are you going to give her the whole damn business and let her open for dinner now that Quin has conveniently paid off the mortgage? Or are we just going to declare bankruptcy and get it over with?”
“No.” Betsy scrubbed a hand across her face and pushed away from the stool. She’d figured this much out, at least. “I don’t want to close the bar. You’re a really good bartender, Kate. Better than I ever was, and you’re right about the money. It doesn’t make sense. If we close the café, we can use the money we save on purchasing supplies to pay Quin ba
ck. And I’ll get a job somewhere else. The bar is all yours.” She turned to Lila and Jenna. “Either of you two temporarily hiring? I’ll work for room and board until I can figure out my next step.”
“Absolutely,” Jenna said quickly. “But I’ll pay you.”
“I’ll pay you more,” Lila countered.
“You’re leaving? That’s just fucking perfect.” Kate’s voice was furious, but she bit her lip, the way she always did when she was about to cry.
“I thought that’s what you wanted,” Betsy said.
“Yeah, you would think that.” Kate took off her apron and stuffed it under the counter. She stalked out from behind the bar and disappeared into the kitchen. A few seconds later, the back door slammed.
Her mother took off her apron. “I’ll go talk to her. Will you close up?”
Betsy nodded. “Of course. Text me later.”
“Nice to meet you, girls,” her mom said before she followed Kate out the door.
“What was that all about?” Lila asked.
Betsy shook her head, bewildered. “I have no idea.”
“Kind of makes me glad I have a brother,” Jenna said.
Lila snorted. “I bet he wishes the same thing.”
“Oh, shut up.” Jenna stood. “What do we need to do to put this place to bed?”
Betsy told them, and they worked in silence for a few minutes, stacking chairs on the tables, sweeping, and mopping until Jenna started giggling.
“What’s so funny?” Betsy grabbed the broom and the dustpan and hit a spot they’d missed. Jenna laughed harder, doubling over.
“Cinder-Betsy,” Jenna choked out, pointing. “Footman, makeover, carriage…that dress. Oh my God, poor Quin. He just can’t catch a break. He picked the one Cinderella on earth who would smash the glass slipper and cut off a few toes to keep Prince Charming from finding her. He never had a chance.”
“You’re supposed to be on my side.” Betsy tucked the broom out of sight behind the bar.
“I am, I totally am, but I still feel sorry for the guy. He lost his mother and sister at formative points in his childhood, and his adoptive parents died a few years ago. Judging from the number of women he’s dated, he can’t possibly have had many serious relationships, and now he’s smitten with you. Poor bastard.” She giggled again.
“How do you know all this? Wait—what did you say about his adoptive parents?” Her heart went into free fall.
“Car accident. And I may or may not have had a conversation with your mother earlier this week. She told me all about Quin, and I Googled him.”
“You guys have been talking about me?”
“Duh—the people who love you most in the world are probably going to talk about you when you won’t talk to them. My question is this: how can you not know all that about Quinton James? Google-stalking is a twenty-first century necessity.” Jenna pulled out her phone and tapped the screen. “Here, read this.”
Betsy snatched the phone from her.
The Forbes Magazine article was objective, a story about how Quin had tripled the family fortune after the death of his adoptive parents, but it was easy for her to read between the lines. The only time I don’t feel like you’re leaving me is when I’m inside you. She sank onto a stool, put her head down on the bar, and groaned. “I kept leaving him. And I pushed him away. He said I didn’t trust anyone, even myself.” She thought of her mother sending Kate’s father away to protect them. Did she need protection from Quin? He was a good man; she was the one who was broken. She covered her face with both hands.
“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” Jenna said. “Nobody’s perfect. I’m constantly fighting the urge to leap before I look, and I know for a fact our little bolter”—she pointed at Lila—“had a fight with Jack last night and almost took off to come down here without him. Falling in love doesn’t cure us of our flaws. If it did, you’d have told us about Quin and the trouble with Last Call weeks ago.”
Betsy lifted her head. “You two had your hands full. I wasn’t going to saddle you with my problems.” She frowned. “How did you get away from the restaurants, anyway?”
“By trusting other people to cover our backs. You should try it,” Jenna said gently. “Don’t you remember Lila texting us after every fight with Jack? And you two propped me up for months when I was working on Cooper’s and trying to forget Roman. Why would you think we wouldn’t be here for you when you need us?”
“I wanted to solve my own problems.” Jenna, of all people, should have understood. She’d refused to let Roman bankroll her family’s restaurant renovation and secured a loan herself.
“Of course you did,” Jenna scoffed. “You do everything alone. That’s no challenge for you. Why don’t you try something difficult, like letting someone help? If not us, then what about that rich guy next door who sent you a hand-delivered invitation to his kingdom? Don’t even try to tell me you’re happy in this scullery. You never were.”
Betsy flinched at the truth. “Enough with the Cinderella references.”
“If the shoe fits…” Jenna looked down at the chef clogs Betsy had slipped on when they started to clean and raised an eyebrow. “The man has hotels all over the country. Imagine all those kitchens.”
Betsy rested her head on her hands again. The last time she’d thought about working for Quin she hadn’t wanted to leave her family or put herself in a position where he’d have power over her. She’d known he could devastate her, and here she was, slumped on a bar, covered in alley scum. Jenna wasn’t the first person to suggest she should learn to accept help. Her mother had said the same thing…and so had Quin. “I’d say he’s done enough, wouldn’t you? At this point he’s paid for my education and almost a year of running the café. Although by that logic, maybe I should go to work for him as an indentured servant.”
“Call it anything you want. Just give the poor guy another chance.” Jenna slipped behind the bar, grabbed a cup, and poured herself a daiquiri.
“You haven’t even met him. What makes you so sure he deserves it?”
“Three hundred thousand dollars.” Jenna raised her cup in a toast.
“That’s not fair. I didn’t ask for that money.”
“Fair? Are you being fair?” Lila chimed in. “What makes him such a bad risk? Why can’t he be more than a two-week booty call? Tell us one horrible thing the guy did, and we’ll never mention his name again.”
Two sets of blue eyes gazed steadily at her. She looked down at the crumpled paper on the bar, and the date leapt off the page. She swallowed hard. Quin had made the transfer two weeks ago, probably the very day she’d forced him to agree to their bargain. For a split second, she wanted to believe he’d paid off the mortgage as a power play, a way to make her feel grateful, and force himself into her life, but she knew better now. After tonight, the truth was impossible to escape. “He didn’t do anything terrible. He didn’t hurt me. He kept trying to help me, and I wouldn’t let him. I told him I didn’t want anything from him except sex.” And he’d respected her wishes. He’d made it clear he wanted more, but he’d backed off. Instead of trying to take control by forcing them to sell Last Call, he’d helped her in the kitchen and offered to be her business partner. When she’d still refused to let him in, he’d brought her ideas to life in his magical courtyard and given her full credit for the transformation. A gift. No strings. Paying off the mortgage took a huge burden off her shoulders, putting her in a position to make her dreams come true without him. “I’m an idiot. I ruined everything. He’s gone.”
“I doubt he went far,” Lila said. “Go after him.”
“I can’t.” But her instant denial rang false, and she knew Lila and Jenna didn’t buy it either. Why couldn’t she go after him? The bar? The café? Kate and her mother? All the excuses she’d used to keep from admitting her own desires so she could never be hurt or disappointed? The only thing standing between her and Quin was her fear, and she was sick of it. Her world shifted, just slightly, but it was e
nough. “Of course I can.”
“Atta girl.” Jenna and Lila cheered.
“But I can’t just go after him.” She pushed away from the bar and began to pace. “I’ll be lucky if he’s still speaking to me. He told me I was everything he wanted, and I told him he was only a fling. I have a lot to make up for.” He’d been wooing her during their dinners and long walks. He’d played his heart out for her in that bar, and tonight he’d brought a fairy tale to life. “The royal messenger, the carriage. Oh God…the courtyard.”
Lila and Jena flanked her. “What can we do? How can we help?”
She bit back her automatic refusal. Letting people help was going to be tougher than pushing them away, but she’d learned the hard way she couldn’t do it alone. She didn’t want to do it alone. Alone had put her on her knees in an alley. She took their hands and squeezed. “We need a plan.”
Chapter Fifteen
Quin woke to a buzzing noise, automatically reaching out to silence his alarm. He hit the floor with a hard thud and remembered where he was: Melly’s apartment, not his room at the Keystone. The tea shop was bigger than it looked from the outside, with a spacious apartment in the back. The whole place smelled like tea and incense, but the scent didn’t bother him now. In fact, it was kind of comforting. He stretched, enjoying the lingering peace of his dreams.
Meeting his nephew last night, even for one sleepy second, had been incredible, and he and Melly had talked until nearly dawn. He’d stretched out on the couch, not intending to fall asleep, just not wanting to leave, but he must have dozed off. He looked around for his phone to see what time it was, and when he found it on the floor next to his head, he knew what had awakened him. The lock screen was covered with text message alerts and missed calls. It started ringing again.
“Tea?” Melly’s voice was quiet, telling him Quincy was still sleeping.
He silenced his phone. Kyle could wait. Quin wasn’t ready to go back to reality. “Yes, please.”
“Scones just came out of the oven.” She nudged him with her foot. “Come into the shop when you’re ready.”