by Kylie Scott
I also needed to stop making comparisons to Chris. He was out of my life. Gone. The end.
Vaughan tipped his chin toward the house, still laughing. “Go grab your coffee and cake. Then you can tell me more revenge fantasies. I want blood and gore, Lydia. Covered in honey and eaten alive by bull ants, that sort of thing. Go wild.”
I smiled and headed for the house, my mood about ten tons lighter for having seen Vaughan’s smile.
“Not cake, palmiers,” corrected Nell.
“Whatever they are, they taste like magic,” he said.
His sister snorted.
“It is good to see you, sis.”
Sure enough, a second coffee and large brown paper bag sat on the kitchen counter. “The Bird Building” was stamped in black ink on the front. It was a place in midtown, not an area I’d had a lot to do with. In the real estate business, Ray and I had mostly focused on residential dwellings, with him covering the big-money mansions. Chris had dealt with the commercial properties.
My coffee was delicious, I didn’t bother heating it up. Years in offices had taught me to ignore temperature. The palmiers turned out to be elephant ear cookies covered in cinnamon sugar. Pastry so perfect and light it basically melted on contact with my tongue. Absolute bliss.
I took my breakfast outside and sat on the steps.
“What’d you need to talk to me about?” he asked his sister.
Nell gave me a brief glance. Awkward.
“I’ll eat inside, get out of the sun for a while,” I said around a mouthful of deliciousness, hardly spitting out any pastry flakes at all. Screw common courtesy. These palmiers were amazing.
“It’s okay. Anything you need to say to me, Lydia can hear.” He gave me a wry smile. “We’ve got no secrets, have we?”
“I guess not after yesterday, but—”
“It’s fine.” Nell brushed off her hands on the sides of her black jeans. “Really.”
I tentatively sat back down. Maybe I’d just excuse myself to go use the bathroom ASAP.
“So?” asked Vaughan. “Shoot.”
“I need you to either lend me fifty-six thousand dollars or buy Pat out for the same amount.”
Eyes wide, he huffed out a breath. “Shit. That all, huh?”
“I’m serious.”
“I get that.”
“Will you do it?” Carefully, she tucked her hair behind her ears. Her hands, however, didn’t stop there, fussing with the front of her white shirt. The woman was nervous. Terribly so. “Please, Vaughan. He wants out and I can’t have him involved anymore. The divorce goes through in a few more days and things are so damn tense I can’t stand it.”
He let his head fall back, staring up at the sky. “Nell…”
“Pat hates me. He’s completely impossible. Refuses to work in the bar anymore.”
“What the hell happened? You two have been tight since you were fourteen. You can’t even get on a little now?”
“You’ve been gone a long time,” she said, face drawn. “He’s changed, especially since we broke up. He and Eric can’t even be in the same room without fighting.”
“Shit.”
Nell wrung her hands. “Pat’s been making all sorts of threats about what he’ll do if we can’t buy his share of the business.”
“Joe can’t buy in?”
Nell shook her head. “He doesn’t have the cash. Eric’s still paying him back for bankrolling his thirty percent when we opened.”
“Christ.” He wiped a hand over his face. “This is why you shouldn’t go into business with friends or family. It just gets fucking complicated.”
“You’re right. I should have trusted total strangers with my life-long dream.”
Vaughan’s shoulders sagged. “Didn’t know things were so bad with you.”
“You were busy, touring and recording. I didn’t want to worry you. I thought I could ride it out.”
“Yeah.” A long-winded sigh. “I’m sorry, Nell. I don’t have the money. I’d do it for you in a heartbeat if I could, but I can’t.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m tapped out. Things … they weren’t as good as I made them out to be.” Hands on hips, he faced her. “In fact, they’re pretty much fucked. I was hoping you could buy this place off me. I’m sorry.”
Hell, poor Vaughan. If I could have been anywhere else, I’d have been there. Instead, I sat silent and still, hopefully forgotten.
“You want to sell the house? How bad is it?” she asked.
“I’ll figure something out. It’ll be okay.” He licked his lips, studying the ground.
“How bad, Vaughan?”
Slowly, he shut his eyes, letting his head fall back. It took him a long time to answer. “I had to borrow to buy you out of this place.”
Nell’s mouth fell open. “What? You told me you had it!”
“What’d you think I’d say?” Blue eyes snapped open, laser-like in their intensity. “Like you said, it was your dream, opening the bar. Just like it was mine to play music. You backed me however you could. Did you really think I wouldn’t do the same for you?”
Nell covered her face with her hands, swearing softly beneath her breath. This went on for quite some time.
“For a while, it was fine,” Vaughan continued. “We were getting gigs, being paid. Then we had a lean time and I had to take out a mortgage.”
“You mortgaged our childhood home?” Her voice rose to banshee levels. Guess it was true what they said about redheads, at least of the female variety. “Vaughan, how could you!”
“It’s almost paid off. Touring with Stage Dive got most of it sorted, but things hit the wall when the band fell apart.”
His sister just shook her head. “If Mom weren’t dead, she’d kill you.”
“I know.”
“And if Dad weren’t dead … I don’t even know what he would do. But they’d never find your body. Or what was left of it.”
Nothing from Vaughan. His fallen face said it all.
In the distance a lawn mower roared to life, doing its thing. How bizarre to think our dramas didn’t even touch upon the bulk of most people’s everyday lives. They seemed so big and all-encompassing from within. Any happiness felt fake, phony. Or worse yet, as if it were about to be stolen away. Which was ridiculous, really: Vaughan would work his way out of his money troubles and I would date again. I’d find a job I liked, or least tolerated, and he’d start another band. Life would go on.
Right now, however, it just all seemed phenomenally shit.
“Okay, here’s what we do,” said Nell, her spine snapping straight. “You come work for us at the Dive Bar.”
“But—” An imperious hand halted him.
“No, Vaughan,” she said. “You need money, we need a new bartender. Hell, we’re probably about to need more waitstaff too. One way or another, you’re covered. You can do Pat’s shifts behind the bar for now.”
“I only planned on being in town for a few days, a week at most.”
Lines appeared beside Nell’s mouth. “Fine. Whatever. Work while you’re here. You start at six. Don’t be late.”
“Okay. I won’t be late.”
“And bring Lydia with you.”
“Why?”
“I like her. She didn’t mortgage my childhood home.”
“Right.” Vaughan crossed his arms.
“Thanks for the coffee and pastry,” I said.
“No problem. See you later.”
It took a while for the man to make any move once his sister left. For a long while, he stood staring after her, lost in thought. Useless platitudes filled my head, the usual reassuring crap. For now, I let it all go unsaid. Neither of us was really interested in hearing the obvious.
This summer was genuinely proving to be a motherfucker.
Wonder what nonsense was being said about me around town. Not that it mattered. No way I’d be accompanying Vaughan tonight to find out. First, I needed to find somewhere to stay until thi
ngs were settled with the Delaneys. And if I hoped to have anything to wear in the near future, finding my clothes in this jungle needed to happen faster.
I brushed off my hands, leaving the empty cup on the step to throw away later. “You okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Liar,” I whispered.
“Am not,” he whispered back.
“Are too.”
He gave me a look most dubious.
“That was a heavy conversation. All I’m saying is, it’s okay not to be okay after it.”
He snorted, pushing his shoulders back. “You want to talk about feelings, Lydia? Is that what you want?”
“Hell no.” I laughed. “After yesterday I’m pretty much emotionally wrung out. I vote we be as shallow as humanly possible.”
“Thank god for that.” A big hand reached out and smoothed down my most likely still psycho bed hair. “You had me worried.”
“But on the off chance it’s necessary,” I said quickly, “I do want you to know I’m here for you, just like you were there for me yesterday.”
“That sounds dangerously like feelings talk.”
“Not really.”
“Yes, really.”
“Fine. Take it how you will.” I shrugged, getting back into the search and rescue of my belongings. Something glinted among the long grass. An earring. “I want to do a drive-by egging of Samantha and Ray’s place, but they’ve got this big fence and gate.”
“Could be a problem.” Beside me, Vaughan dropped to his knees, rifling among the vegetation. “How about we toilet paper their front fence?”
“That could work.”
“Knew this guy once who dumped his girl by text. They’d been going out for like four or five years. Serious stuff. She got a couple of syringes full of fish oil and injected it into his car through the gap between the doors. Just squeezed it straight past the rubber lining and into the interior.” He gazed up at me with a hint of a diabolical smile. “Dude comes back from touring for a couple of months and the inside of his GTO stinks so bad it’s not funny. You couldn’t even get near the thing, let alone drive it.”
I all but clapped my hands. “That’s genius.”
“Isn’t it.” A pair of green silk underwear hung from his finger. “These yours?”
“No. They probably belong to someone else whose belongings were dumped in your yard. But I’ll take care of them for now.”
“That makes sense.” Carefully, he inspected them. “French-cut cheekies, huh?”
“You know your lingerie.” I frowned.
“Important to appreciate the finer things in life. Especially when they’re to do with a fine woman.”
“Smooth.”
“You know, I had you figured for those boy-short things,” he said with a smile. “Happy to be wrong, though. These are hot, babe. Like seriously hot.”
“Glad you approve.”
“But if you say they’re not yours…” He started to stick them into his back pocket.
“Give them to me, please.”
“Say you’ll come to the Dive Bar with me tonight.”
“Oh, boy.” I hesitated, everything inside of me rejecting the idea. “A public place. I don’t think that’s a good idea. I think laying low is my best option right now. Find somewhere to live for the next few days then get gone, start over somewhere new.”
“You stay here with me until you’re ready to leave,” he said, like it was obvious.
“Really?”
“Sure.”
“I wouldn’t be in your way or anything?”
“No.” He passed me my underwear. “Course not.”
Quickly, I dropped them into the nearest box of stuff. Given the DEFCON 1 embarrassment levels of the past twenty-four hours, a pair of panties shouldn’t have bothered me in the slightest. Perhaps it came down to the man doing the teasing.
“I don’t know,” I said. “When you get right down to it, we barely know each other.”
“It’s only for a couple of days. A week at most, right?”
“Yes, but—”
“Are you worried about you or me in this scenario?”
“You,” I said, happy to be hiding behind the sunglasses. Those beautiful blue eyes saw too much. “You could change your mind and feel stuck with me. I don’t want to add to your problems.”
“Lydia, I don’t want to add to yours either. But I do want you here.”
“You do?” My breath didn’t mean to catch, I’m sure of it. It was just an accident. The thought of Vaughan actually liking me thrilled and terrified me in equal parts. He was so hot. And I was so me. But I could pretend to be cool for a temporary period. I could do this. “Why, if you don’t mind me asking?”
With a scowl, he stretched out in the long grass, relaxing, for all intents and purposes. “Can I trust you with something?”
“Of course.”
He licked his lips again, sighed. “Mom and Dad died when I was twenty. I’ve never been here without them. Not for more than a night or two. It just, it doesn’t feel right.”
Hell. My heart ached for him.
“Nell packed up the place, got someone to paint the inside so I wouldn’t feel weird, so it would feel like my own house, I guess. But it doesn’t.”
I sat down cross-legged in the grass in front of him. Picked the head off a dandelion and ran it back and forth across the palm of my hand. “Vaughan, it would be great if I could hang here while I get things sorted.”
“Good.” A slow smile spread across his face. “And I’d really like it if you’d come with me tonight, see Nell’s bar. She’d love to have you there, she said so.”
I scrunched up my nose.
“C’mon. You have to go out sometime.”
“Hmm, bad idea. I think I’ve already filled my quota for public humiliation this year.”
“You’ll have a good time.” He shook his head. “No way Nell’s going to let anyone hassle you in her place, babe.”
“That’s not my name.” The dandelion fell apart on a warm breeze, drifting off to who knew where.
“All right. Come tonight and I’ll never call you babe ever again.”
“Never ever again?” I sized him up over the top of my sunglasses, judging his sincerity.
“You have my word.” With deliberate slowness, he drew a cross over his heart.
The amount I owed the man was big. Huge. But then so was the thought of going out into the public arena and risking death, dismemberment, and some really nasty gossip. Bitches be everywhere. But also, he was right. I did have to go out sometime.
“Okay.” I held out my hand.
He shook it. Then kept holding on, gazing deep into my eyes.
“You’re going to have fun, Lydia.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
I was not having fun. Mostly, I was fighting the urge to puke. Though in all honesty, the state of my stomach had more to do with my hangover than anything else.
The Bird Building wasn’t a mall. Basically, it was a ninety-year-old two-story brick monster in midtown, the ground floor a neat line of retail spaces facing the street. First were a couple of empty shops, the windows covered in aging notices of bands playing in town, lost dogs, street fairs, and the like. Next was the Guitar Den, a tattoo parlor called Inkaho, then the Dive Bar taking up the prestigious corner position.
The Beatles played, filling the warm evening air along with the sounds of cutlery and glassware, the hum of chatter. It flowed through the open windows and doorway of the Dive Bar out onto the quiet street. It looked like they had a decent-size crowd for a Sunday. People flocked to town each summer, but most seemed to stay downtown by the lake. I bet the bars and shops there would be full. Midtown, away from the water, tended to be quieter. More for locals.
With a hand hovering at my lower back, Vaughan ushered me along the sidewalk.
“I’m not going to make a run for it,” I said, yet again tucking my hair behind my ears, straightening out the imaginary creases in my blac
k linen button-up top.
The side eyes he gave me were full of doubt. “The thought never crossed my mind.”
“Liar.”
“The fact that I had to manhandle you out of the car—”
“Signifies nothing more than how very cool I think your car is.”
“Right.” I could tell he was laughing at me on the inside. “Come on, single lady.”
* * *
Not so subtly, he took hold of my elbow. The muscles in his arms flexed as if he expected some great escape attempt to happen at any moment.
Liking people was a bitch. Same with giving your word.
As we approached the building, I said, “I’ve been thinking about your money dramas. Wondering if I can help?”
He licked his lips. “You’ll pretty much do anything to delay this, won’t you?”
“I’m serious, I’ve been worrying about you all day, what with Nell not being able to buy the house like you’d hoped. I realize we haven’t known each other for long, but I’d like to help somehow if I can.”
A sigh. “I’m going to have to sell it to someone else. It’s going to suck, but that’s where my situation’s at.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thanks.” He wiped a hand over his face. “Don’t suppose you’d like to rethink your leaving town plan and make an offer?”
“I wish I had that kind of money. And a job.” A couple of years in real estate had enabled me to make a start on some savings. Nothing like what the Sanders Beach home would fetch, however. “I could give you some advice on the market, point you in the direction of a good agent and so on.”
“Yeah, ah … let’s talk about this another time. All right?”
“Sure. Whenever you’re ready.”
“Thanks.”
A couple of young women passed us by, one doing a double take when she saw me. Next thing you knew, her mouth was going rapid fire against her friend’s ear. The friend turned back to look at me, giggling. Ugh.
“Maybe tonight’s a bit soon,” I said, edging back a step. “I mean, you need to concentrate on the bar and, really, Nell will be busy cooking, so—”
In one smooth move, he stepped in front of me, turning so we were face-to-face. His hands grabbed hold of my hips, drawing operation “get the hell out of here” to an abrupt halt. “Lydia?”