“The parlor’s in trouble?”
Ivy nodded. “My babe’s an accountant. Says we’ll be lucky if we make it to the end of the year. Save as much cash as you can while we’re still above water, but I wouldn’t stop putting in those applications.”
Stella nearly screamed to the gods. Just when she was sure Mr. Devereux would be the worst thing that could possibly happen to her that day, Ivy had hit her with the second worst, and it tied her stomach in knots.
——
Stella didn’t even bother hanging her bag or jacket on the coat rack next to the front door later that night, opting to drop them on the foyer floor instead. When she trudged into the living area and caught sight Rocco and Blue smiling at her from behind the kitchen table, the heart she was sure had been frozen into a block of ice for the rest of her natural born life melted like warm butter.
A single cupcake sat in the on the table with a single candle shooting up from the middle. The orange flame lapping at the tip made both Rocco and Blue’s eyes sparkle even brighter than the diamond studs in Stella’s ears.
She couldn’t fight the gasping tears that filled her eyes as she stepped into the kitchen with a hand over her heart. Blue even reached for her when she made it to the table, with Mr. Wiggles swinging from her grip, which froze Stella in mid-step. Rocco tried to offer her Blue, who’s little arms were stretched as far as they could go, cooing for Stella to take her, but the emotion rendered Stella motionless for a moment before she finally found the strength to step forward again. She brought Blue’s soft, chubby body to hers and blubbered softly when Blue immediately bopped her head onto her shoulder. Stella’s smiling lips kissed the top of Blue’s head as the weight of her baby snuggling against her nearly made the whole world fall away. The candle flicker became a mere blur in her teary eyes, and so did Rocco’s face.
“What all is this?” she whispered, looking down at the cupcake.
“You know what it is, and no, I’m not singing. So just blow out the candle and say thank you.”
Stella laughed softly and did what she was told. Blue’s fingers dug into the back of her shirt as she leaned forward, holding back the wisps of hair that had escaped her bun after a long day, and blew out the what she assumed was her ‘Happy First Day on the Job’ candle. Darkness engulfed the kitchen after her breath killed the flame, and Rocco crossed the room to flip on the light switch.
As the room illuminated, so did he, just as he lifted a box wrapped in pink wrapping paper off kitchen island, holding it up.
Stella’s eyes widened at the present she hadn’t even noticed. “You bought me a gift?”
“Blue’s idea.” He re-approached and pushed the gift playfully against her belly.
Sniffling, Stella cuddled Blue closer and pierced the paper with the nail on her index finger, puncturing it just enough to allow her to rip the rest of it away easily with one hand.
The moment she saw what awaited her beyond the paper, the smile on her face vanished.
And the smile on his doubled.
“A wok?” she cried, in a valley girl voice, holding up the Mainstays Non-Stick Wok he’d probably paid five dollars for at Wal-Mart. “Thanks, Rocco! How did you know?”
“Any opportunity to get your lazy ass in the kitchen.”
“You’re such a pig.” She threw the pan down like it had caught fire, letting it clatter onto the table. “Any excuse to keep your pathetic delusions alive, huh?”
“Rocco was her first word. Accept it.”
“I’d rather die the slowest, most painful death.”
“I was her first word.”
“I rebuke it in the name of all that’s good and pure.”
“You rebuke it, huh?” his voice softened, eyes searching hers as he pulled something from behind his back. “You rebuke this too?”
As her eyes fell to his hands, she nearly dropped her baby girl to the floor.
The authentic Hermes Togo Birkin 30 Gris Tourterelle screamed out to her from his hold, just as beautiful as it had been the day it’d been ripped from her arms. The finely crafted grained leather was still just as buttery beige as she’d remembered. The rolled top handles still flawless. The gold hardware unscathed. Even the tiny black ink mark Blue had put in the corner months ago, when Stella hadn’t been paying attention, no longer looked like a heart-wrenching flaw to her, but something that made the bag even more beautiful. Something that made it uniquely hers.
“Rocco,” she gasped.
“Just don’t drop the kid.”
“You went back for my Birkin?”
“As it turns out, no one in their right mind was willing to pay good money for this ugly ass—” He rolled his eyes when she snatched it from his hand.
“Bite your tongue…”
He removed Blue from her arms before she actually did drop her baby in favor of that Birkin, propping her back on his waist. Blue immediately reached for his nose, making him rear away from her slobbery fingers.
Stella cuddled the bag close, not much differently from how she’d just been cuddling Blue, pulling it deep into her chest, nuzzling it against her cheek, eyes fluttering shut and lips pursed, one false move from purring like a kitten in heat. It was only when it hit her that, if no one had paid the ridiculous sticker price for that Birkin, it had to mean one thing.
That Rocco had.
Her eyes flew up to his.
His chest swelled the moment their gazes met. “I’m proud of you.” When her face fell, he hugged Blue closer. “Us. We’re proud of you. First real job—hell, first legal job. Big day. You deserve it.”
Her breath slowed with each word he said until every bone in her body had come to a standstill. Until she couldn’t tear her eyes from his even if she wanted to. Until her fingers had grown so weak that her Birkin was soon in danger of slipping from her grip and clattering to the floor.
“You’re proud of me?” she whispered.
Something moved in his eyes. He gave a soft nod. So soft she barely saw it.
And this time, the warmth in her stomach suddenly felt like acid. The tears in her eyes like liquid pepper. The ache in her heart like a flesh-eating virus. Her fingers finally became too weak to hold the bag for another second, and it clattered down onto the table.
“How was it?” he asked. “First big day?”
She felt the exact moment the gentle look on her face moved to a frown. When the memory of Mr. Devereux filtered back into her head—from where Rocco and Blue had miraculously managed to erase him completely—and reminded her of everything that had gone down at the spa earlier that day, and she was rendered speechless. The man that Rocco had caught her with on the night of the raid—a man who’d once known her only as Roxanne—now knew her full, government name. And the fact that she was the only girl in the parlor that night who had managed to dodge prosecution hadn’t escaped him. The memory of Mr. Devereux swearing he’d seen a cop handcuff her, but for whatever reason, hadn’t quite finished the job of arresting her, burned through her body like an inferno.
Her eyes fell to the floor. She’d have to tell Rocco that she’d fucked up, yet again, and that, this time, it was one for the books. The kind of colossal mistake that wouldn’t just destroy her life, and Blue’s life—but his too.
She wondered if he’d even resist if she told him the rest of the story. That Mr. Devereux had offered her enough money to finish off all her credit card debt, as well as her mortgage, in one fell swoop. All for one night together in the presidential suite at the Four Seasons. She wondered if Rocco would forget his own morals, his own values, the very oath he’d taken as a cop all those years ago, and turn a blind eye if he knew. Would he let her do it? Would he encourage it?
Her stomach rumbled at the thought.
He moved toward her, cupped her chin softly between his fingers, and nudged it up, claiming her eyes.
“Hey?” He tilted his head just as Blue began cooing the word ‘Wak’ from his arm while gazing up at him reverently. “Keep yo
ur chin up.”
As if on cue, her chin trembled.
“No matter what happened today, good or bad, doesn’t matter. Either way, it’s a step forward. I meant what I said. I’m proud of you. You started at rock bottom and clawed your way back up. You did what you had to do to protect your daughter, and you’re on a good path now. On your way to becoming the woman that you were always meant to be. The woman I always knew you could be…” His voice broke off for a moment. “You might not know it, but you’re one hell of a powerful woman, Stella Armstrong. Beyond belief. So much that—shit, it scares me to death. That kind of power… you could take over the whole world if you wanted to. And I’m damn proud of you.”
“I got into a car and drove myself to the mall—and five minutes late at that—don’t get too excited.”
“Your whole life, you’ve had someone else taking care of you. Easy money thrown at you from every angle, with you barely having to lift a finger—”
“I hope you’re going somewhere with this.”
“To go from that fast money, thousands of dollars a day like it’s nothing, to 12 bucks an hour? That’s not easy. I see the same repeat offenders getting put behind bars, year after year, over and over, since they’re ten years old, all for the lure of that same fast money. It’s astoundingly addictive. So I know how hard it is. And I want you to know… I understand. I understand the strides you’ve made. And I think it’s pretty damn admirable.”
Her breathing picked up as his fingers trailed up her chin, caressing the valley below her bottom lip in a touch so soft she barely felt it. Just gentle enough to make her mouth fall open for more, but insistent enough to send the pleasant sensation tingling on her bottom lip jetting all over her body—making her every limb quake.
“I’m proud of you too.” She didn’t even know she’d pushed up onto her toes until the action seemed to make him lean in closer. Closer still when she came back down onto her heels, until his neck was nearly bent in half as he held her gaze. “I’m proud of you for being strong enough in heart, and in spirit, to bear the weight of Blue and me on your shoulders when you knew we were unsteady. You could’ve turned a blind eye and pretended not to see the fire burning out of control. The hopelessness. The despair. You could’ve carried on with your life the way everyone else did, and no one would’ve blamed you. It would’ve been the normal thing to do. But you’re not normal, Rocco. You’re not ordinary. You’re different. You’re loyal. You’re extraordinary. And I…” She blinked rapidly when her eyelashes grew soaked with tears she didn’t want to let fall. “I just don’t know how Blue and I ever… ever got so lucky.”
This time, his hand was on her cheek, and it wasn’t soft, but deliberate. His trembling fingers sank into the hairline at the back of her neck until she could feel his pulse surging through their tips, confirming it was racing just as fast as the muscle thundering in her chest.
In what felt like an instant, the tips of their noses touched, then angled. The warmth of their breath tickled each other’s lips. Blue, as she often had those days, found herself forgotten once more, even as she continued softly mumbling ‘Wak’ from between them.
It was only when Stella’s eyes shifted, mere seconds before the air between their lips was no more, to the refrigerator, where dozens of photos of Troy’s smiling face greeted her, that she pulled back with a gasp.
Rocco gasped too, and his eyes—which she hadn’t even noticed had fallen closed—popped open. The hand he’d had on her cheek remained in the air long after she’d stepped out of his hold like a ghost had taken his place.
Still recovering, albeit less sporadically than she was, he ran a vibrating hand down his mouth and took a big step away from her as well, scratching the back of his head.
“I’m sorry, Rocco, I just—I don’t think we should… do this.”
“Do what? We’re not doing anything.”
“Oh. I know. Obviously. I mean, of course. Of course not.” She laughed nervously.
“Just congratulating you on your big day.”
“Right, right. And there’s nothing… there’s nothing wrong with that. Just congrats. That’s not a big deal.” Her voice hitched. “That’s regular.”
“It’s what friends do.”
“Friends…” She had to take a moment. “Wow. That’s the first time you’ve ever called me your friend. Which, I gotta say, is a pretty impressive feat for a guy who’s been in my life, uninterrupted, since I was five years old.” Her eyes shifted to the fridge again, and her smile vanished. “I guess you never really were in my life by choice, though, were you?”
Rocco followed her gaze over his shoulder, and when he saw the photos of Troy smiling back at them from the refrigerator, he drew in a sharp breath in much the same way she had a moment earlier.
“So, is that what we’re calling each other now? Officially?” She paused when he cut a look back at her. “Friends?”
“That’s what we are.” His eyes fell to her lips. “Right?”
The way his voice had lowered and tightened, made her bones go tight too. “Right.”
When he didn’t speak further, letting a long silence fall in, she rubbed the back of her neck, her eyes darting between him and the fridge, feeling like the silence was on the verge of suffocating her, crushing her bones like a boa constrictor, and swallowing her whole in one fell swoop.
When she couldn’t take another second, she snapped a finger at him. “The meeting! The big meeting and the—the big promotion. Right? That was today. Did Blue do okay?”
“Yeah, she stunk up the entire meeting room with the scent of baby shit, threw up all over herself multiple times and seemed to have a knack for knowing exactly when to scream at the top of her lungs during the most pivotal points in my presentation… oh, and I got sent home early before I could even finish it. But if you call that doing okay, then, yeah. She did great.”
“Good god. Am I the sole breadwinner now?”
“As many bullets as I’ve taken for that place? Not in this lifetime.”
“Good, because I just got word that the spa might be in trouble. Rumor has it could close down any day now.”
“Well, it ain’t closed yet, so that’s still real money in our pockets.”
“I’m so sorry you lost out on a big raise. It seemed like you really wanted it.”
She waited for the anger in his eyes. The resentment. For a sarcastic blow to come flying her way. One that wasn’t nearly as mild and playful as the softballs he’d been throwing most of the night.
He shrugged. “What you gonna do? She’s a baby. Just a fact of our lives.”
“But you didn’t ask for this life.”
“Maybe not. But I got it…” He paused. “And now it’s mine.”
She tried to fight the smile threatened her lips, but it made the rest of her face curl up to the point of pain, betraying her true emotion.
He sniffled, breaking eye contact before motioning down to the table. “To hell with all that, why don’t you make yourself useful, get this wok fired up, and figure out how to make me a sandwich or something?” A smirk kissed his lips as he swiped up her cupcake and took a huge bite right down the middle.
Stella tilted her head at him and couldn’t help smiling back.
Because for the first time since the day she’d met him, she knew he hadn’t meant a single repulsive, sexist word that had just left his smirking-ass mouth.
15
As a mother, not a single night had gone by when Stella hadn’t woken up in a cold sweat, leaped out of bed, and raced down the hallway to Blue’s nursery. Holding her breath the entire way. Only remembering the simple magic of breathing again once she’d looked into the nursery and saw her baby safe and sound in her crib.
Regardless, she’d never been as anxiety-ridden over the well being of her child as she was right at that moment, peeking around the corner of the foyer into the living room.
Rocco sat at the mirrored desk in the far corner of the living area, fro
wning into the screen, with little to no regard for the disaster about to happen before him. Or perhaps he did have regard, Stella realized, since he was certainly the one who’d put her baby girl in such a precarious position.
On the living room floor, just a few feet away from the desk, Blue was crawling—or doing her best to crawl, since she’d only just learned how a few weeks earlier—towards her bottle. The only problem was that her bottle sat atop a thick Lego tower that was just a touch taller than Blue herself. That tower was flanked by a pile of pillows and a pile of blankets, surrounding it like a moat protecting a castle.
Blue whimpered in agony as she attempted to clear the first hurdle, the pile of pillows, her big blue eyes teary as she gazed longingly up at the Lego tower beckoning her from beyond the barrier. Her tiny limbs gave in under her too many times to count, causing her to face-plant into the pillows—which was the only thing that served to silence her desperate pleas. She pushed herself up on her tiny, shaky arms, wobbling in her pink onesie. With tears making her eyes gleam and cheeks beet red, she gazed over her shoulder at Rocco.
He didn’t even look up from his computer.
She whined at him, digging her fingers into the pillow. When he continued to pretend she didn’t exist, Blue’s eyes flew back up to the tower, her face grew determined, and with one last, impassioned whine, she charged forward, gasping and grunting her way over the pile of pillows like a grown man climbing Everest. She struggled to clear the blankets in much the same way, her arms and legs continuing to collapse in from under her the more exhausted she grew.
Stella’s stomach tightened as she stepped out of the shadows, but neither Blue nor Rocco noticed her. She crept closer to Blue while fixing the white throw blanket she had slung over her shoulders, her own eyes on the verge of filling with the same tears that saturated her baby girl’s. When Blue cleared the blankets and crumbled onto her stomach with an exhausted heave, Stella pressed her lips together and charged forward, reaching for the bottle still sitting atop the tower.
Forbidden (War Book 1) Page 17