by Kira Blakely
I think what hurt me the most was that I felt he’d used me. I had a lot of pride, if not possessions, and one of the things of which I was most proud was my own sense of ethics. I didn’t sleep around, and the fact that I had offered myself to him so readily that day left me feeling pitiful.
I knew I had to do something about the business. My chair was only full a third of the time. If I could fill forty hours, it would tremendously help our situation. I took a small ad in the local throwaway paper advertising a sale: two tattoos for the price of one. It brought in a little traffic, but I still had plenty of time.
I had room to stock merchandise, maybe some T-shirts and hats, belt buckles, that sort of thing, but I just didn’t have the capital to invest in it. That’s when I came up with an idea. I got up early on a Sunday morning and went in to the studio, a measuring tape in my hand. I marked off squares with masking tape on the floor, each square a little larger than a card table. Then I made a sign, hand-lettered, and put it in the front window. “Crafter’s Booth Space Available,” it read. That seem to draw some attention, and when people came in, I told them it would run them fifty dollars every two weeks to rent the space. I would be on hand to handle the register, and all they had to do was stock their own booth. This turned out to be more popular than I could’ve believed. All my space was rented out within three days. I had enough money to buy some decent groceries then. The really nice thing about it was that people came in to look at the crafts and ended up scheduling a tattoo. I learned some business lessons in that.
I was also sitting on a fine arts degree, something I hadn’t utilized to its potential. I got on the computer, found a few freelancing sites, and put in some bids. I had to begin really low, but the competition was all over the world, and people in some places work for almost nothing. But since I had to be in the studio all day anyway, I just sat at the computer and did the freelance work. This helped enough that we had a good month after all. I didn’t let Natalie know about the freelancing, but there was no way I could hide the booth rental. She came asking for handouts more than once, and I turned her away. “Go out and find a job, silly. This isn’t free money. It has to pay for our rent and groceries. You know that.”
“You’re just being stingy.”
I bit my tongue to keep from lashing out at her. If it hadn’t been for my sister, I could probably have a nice little apartment somewhere with some decent clothes and a car I could depend on. I wondered what had happened to my car. Bolt had made it go away when the Audi appeared. I’d have to settle that with him when I saw him. If that ever happened.
I was deep into one of my freelance jobs when the little bell on the door tinkled. “Help yourself to look around,” I called out, without looking up.
“I like what I’m looking at now,” a deep voice said. I spun around in my chair, and there he stood, looking like a million dollars. He looked around himself. “I like what you’ve done with the place.”
“Bolt!” I sort of blurted out his name because I was surprised. I expected to hear from him by text or phone long before he’d come in face-to-face. At that point I remembered I was supposed to be mad at him for not contacting me, but it just wasn’t in my heart. “Did you just get back?”
He nodded. “It took longer than I thought it would. How are you?” He came toward me, pulling me to stand by my shoulders and bending to kiss me. It was a long, deep kiss, and his arms folded around me. “God, I missed you.”
“Really?” I knew that was a snotty thing to say but I couldn’t help myself. “Is everything OK?”
He had an odd look on his face but recovered immediately. “Everything is just fine.”
There was something so mysterious about him. I didn’t know if it was the way he was brought up. Or could he be hiding something? Did he have a wife stashed somewhere out there? I tried not to think about that.
“You and I have to talk,” I started out.
“Well, crap. That sounds like the beginning of a breakup speech.” He pulled up a stool as I sat back down at the computer. He took my hands in each of his and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “Go ahead. Let me have it.”
I was surprised. “You mean we have something between us that it’s possible to break up from? I mean, I’m not wording it well, but I haven’t heard from you in so long.”
He nodded. “I didn’t tell you much about what I do for a living, Lilly. Among other small ventures, I own an import-export business. It requires me to travel overseas from time to time, and sometimes I have very little notice. Not everywhere I go has phone service, and even though it might be available, I may be in so many meetings and the time difference makes it impractical to bother anyone here in the states. This last trip was kind of a mixture of both. I know I should’ve called or sent you a message, but I will be honest with you. What happened between us that night took me by surprise. I wasn’t looking for a relationship.”
I nodded. “I knew that.” My heart was sinking. There was a breakup speech coming, but it was going to come from his end. I got up from my seat and opened the drawer where I kept my purse. I pulled out the keys to the Audi and handed them to him. “I took good care of it, honest I did. It’s parked out back, and there’s not a scratch on it. Thank you for letting me drive it. I guess I need to ask you where my car is. I sort of need to get it fixed and back on the road.”
He was laughing, his head shaking. He held out his hand, palm toward me and said, “No, Lilly, you don’t understand. That car is yours. It’s paid for, it’s insured in your name. It’s just something I wanted to do.”
“I was afraid of that. Well, I can’t accept that. It makes me feel like I sold myself to you!”
“Women! I’m not sure how we got here, but it sounds like you’re having some insecurity issues. I did not come here to break up with you, Lilly. Quite the opposite. I took advantage of the time away to give some thought to what I wanted from life, and to you, in particular. You’re the only woman I’ve met for whom I would be willing to entertain the idea of a steady relationship. Please don’t ask me exactly what that means. I’m not into all the dating lingo, but it means that you would be the only one. Naturally, I will expect the same from you, but maybe you’re too pissed off at me right now to even consider that, and for all I know, maybe you don’t like me.”
“But I do!” I said it so quickly he grinned at me.
“OK, then I guess we got that question answered. So, what I was hoping, is that you might be willing to come out to my farm and have dinner on Saturday night. I know you have the studio open until five o’clock, but I thought you could head out after that. What do you say?”
I plopped into the chair by the computer and left the keys next to the mouse. “Oh my god. I thought you were going to break up with me. I mean, I could understand that we sort of rushed into things and you don’t really know me and I really don’t know you, not at all. But, I do know that I missed you as soon as you left, and I’ve done nothing but think about you since. Is that too weird? Is it too early to feel the chemistry?”
“I don’t believe in timetables when it comes to that kind of thing. I pretty much thought of you all the time too, even if I didn’t call to let you know. I needed some space to think things over. I hope you can understand that.”
“Totally. If there was anything I’d sell my soul for right now, it would be some space, believe me.”
“Is it Natalie?”
“Yeah.” I shook my head and sighed. “She’s not your problem, though. I don’t know what’s going to happen to her. There’s only so much I can do, short of sticking her in my back pocket. She’s hell-bent on self-destruction, and I live in fear of the day that I won’t be there with the net to catch her.” My voice broke, and I was surprised when tears began to run down my cheeks.
“Come here,” he said, drawing me closer until I was sitting on his lap. His arms went around me, and his hand pushed my cheek down on his shoulder. “There may be times when I’m not close by, but yo
u have my number, and I swear, if you call me, I will answer. I don’t want anything to happen to you, or to your sister for that matter. Anytime you need me, and I mean that, anytime, you just pick up the phone. Hopefully, we’ll be together enough that you won’t have to use the phone to reach out for me.”
“Are you sure? I can be an awful lot of trouble.” I felt like he was due a fair warning.
“I think I can handle it,” he chuckled and used his thumb to wipe the tears off my cheek. I took a deep breath and did one of those little stutter noises you do when you’ve had a good cry. I felt so much better. It wasn’t that I wanted anything from him. It was that he cared enough to offer. I couldn’t imagine how he was still single, and quite frankly, I didn’t want to know. I would only ruin a good thing before I knew it.
“OK, yes, I’d like to come. I have no idea where your farm is. Could you write down the address for me?”
“Better than that. I’ve got a duplicate to your car, just in case you decided to throw it back in my face, by the way, and when I leave, I will go out and program my address into the navigation system. So, Saturday night, when you’re ready to leave, you just touch my name in the contact list, and she’ll talk you through it.”
“You know, I don’t even know how to use it. I’ve been afraid to touch anything, for fear that I would break it and have to pay you back for it.”
This must’ve been very funny because he laughed loud enough I didn’t hear my phone ringing until he stopped. I caught it just at the end of the last ring. It was Natalie. “Lilly, I’m at Dorothy’s Beauty Salon, and when I tried to use the debit card, it wouldn’t go through.”
“Which debit card?”
“How many do we have?”
“One, and it’s mine. Did you take it out of my purse?”
“Well, of course. That’s where you keep it.”
I held the phone at arm’s length until I could calm down. I had just paid the bills, and there were only a couple dollars left in the bank account. Now what was I going to do? “Well, I suggest you figure out a way to pay her, because this little piggy bank is closed.” I disconnected the call and sat there, aghast at what I had just said.
“Good for you,” Bolt said quietly. “I’m sure you understand the concept of enabling, and from what I can see, she’s been taking advantage of you for quite a while now. Does she have any skills?”
“Who knows? She won’t try. She’s actually very smart, got good grades in school. There’s lots of things she could do, if she could pull herself together long enough to go to work every day.”
Bolt didn’t answer, but I could see he was thoughtful. He slapped his palms on his thighs and stood up. “Look, I hate to leave, but I have some things to do. I came here straight from the airport.”
“You did?” The thought pleased me immensely. “Awww.”
“Do you think if I leave, you can not cry for at least the rest of today?”
“I’ll try. And how can I thank you for the car?”
“By not thanking me anymore.” He came toward me and kissed me firmly, pinching my butt as he backed away. “I will call you tonight. Like I said, I’ve got things I have to take care of, so I’ll see you on Saturday night?”
“For sure.”
He left out the back door, and I stood and watched out the window as he opened the Audi and climbed in long enough to program his address, as promised. He must’ve known I was watching because he waved when he was done and then he disappeared around the side of the building. I felt like the little girl whose parents had just left and she was already homesick. At least I knew he was coming back, or at least I was going to him.
Chapter 7
Bolton
I took a big chance in inviting Lilly to the farm. While it was all Symington property, my father and I maintained separate estates, his, of course, being the larger. I had preferred to move elsewhere, but he’d convinced me that I should stay close by so when the day came that I inherited his portion, I would already be seamlessly familiar with the farm’s business. I never said it to him, but when that day came, I would hire a farm manager and move into the city where I’d be more comfortable and have closer access to my business. To discuss that with him in advance was asking for yet another argument, and he’d be alerted so he could somehow tie my hands to keep that from happening. He was the consummate manipulator, and there was no reason to think that would end at his grave.
My housekeeper, Mrs. Polk, had prepared a home-cooked dinner with fried chicken and all the trimmings. “In case ye want to venture down by the ponds for a wee picnic,” she pointed out, and I thanked her for her thoughtfulness. She left each day about six to go home to her own family but was back in the early morning. I preferred the house to be mine alone at night.
Pal, my Labrador retriever, was actively trying to interest me in playing fetch. I was watching for Lilly to arrive and threw the Frisbee he brought me to pass the time. It was a beautiful afternoon. The dogwoods were in full bloom, and the countryside was in full splendor as it always was at Derby time. I swung back and whipped the Frisbee as far as I could, and when I turned back, I saw the dreaded black pickup in my drive. My father was just climbing out. He’d blocked the entrance just inside the gate—his normal, inconsiderate self.
“Son,” he began, and I shuddered inside. When he called me that, it meant he needed something from me. He was one of the reasons I was glad my company took me traveling so often.
“Dad,” I acknowledged him as cordially as I could. I still held him responsible for what had happened to my mother, even if he hadn’t been driving the other vehicle.
He ambled past me, headed for the porch shade and the swing. He liked to sit in the middle of it, taking on the illusion of a king on his throne. I followed dutifully, settling into one of the smaller Adirondack chairs. “Son, I’ve come today to talk to you about a serious topic.”
“OK,” I muttered, my eyes darting to the end of the drive, waiting for Lilly to arrive.
“Son, it’s time you settled down. I’m getting on in years now, and I want to see my grandchildren get started before I go.”
I held my breath and counted to ten. We’d had this conversation before—each time he’d picked out a woman from what he considered a suitable family. Each time I’d been put in the awkward position to politely turn a cold shoulder to the girl, leaving her embarrassed and frustrated. Without exception, the girls had always been told by my father that I was looking for a wife and had mentioned their name. They came with expectations and left rejected. I wondered whether he did it on purpose.
“We have discussed this before, Dad. I told you, I will choose my own wife, if and when I decide to marry. This is really not something in which you should be involved.”
“Now I don’t agree,” he growled, settling himself back in the swing so that it moved enough to accommodate his ample posterior. “This here is my land, and I should have a say in who lives here. You’re not much at picking breeding stock.”
“It’s my life, Dad, and I’m not picking out a mare. Just leave it to me, OK?”
“Now son, I don’t want you to overlook the importance of this.”
That was when I saw Lilly’s car, approaching slowly down the drive. She stopped outside the gate, unable to get past Dad’s truck.
“Dad, you’re blocking the driveway,” I pointed.
“Who’s that?”
“She is my guest, and she can’t pull in. Look, can we discuss all this another time?”
“She, eh? You’ve got a woman out here, and I don’t know her? I think I might just stick around and see for myself.”
I groaned inwardly, and I could feel anger at his interference beginning to surface.
“Dad, it’s time for you to leave. I told you, we’ll address this later.”
He gave me a look that said I was a ten-year-old boy again and heaved himself off the swing, ambling toward his truck. He got inside and pulled it off to one side onto the lawn, but
he did not leave. I walked out and motioned Lilly to pull up to the house. She emerged from the car, a smile on her face and a basket filled with fresh fruit in her hand. I knew she wanted to make a good impression. She saw me first and then looked past me at the house, and her smile faded and became intimidation. She looked like she was approaching a museum.
To make matters worse, my father decided to emerge from his truck and introduce himself.
“Good evening, young lady. I’m Dallas Symington, Bolt’s father. And you are?”
She looked at me and I reluctantly nodded. “Oh, hello, Mr. Symington. I’m Lilly Schultz, a friend of your son’s.”
He didn’t hold out his hand or make any gesture of friendliness. He may as well have been inspecting livestock. I walked toward Lilly and put my arm around her. My claim was obvious.
“I don’t believe my son has ever mentioned you before. Schultz, eh? You’re not from around here, are you?” That was my father’s way of acknowledging she wasn’t old money and therefore not worth consideration.
“I grew up in town, sir.”
“Uh, yeah, I see. Yup, it’s growin’ more every day. Nothin’ but outsiders comin’ in here and developing all our beautiful farms. Well, not this one, no sir. This one is going to stay put and will always be a horse farm.”
Bless her heart. Lilly looked around and asked innocently, “Really? Where are they? In barns somewhere?”
I thought my father would spit out his own tongue, but he gave her a look that said she clearly did not belong and without a word of farewell, climbed back into his truck and spun it around on my lawn, tearing up the sod. A hard smash to the gas pedal spun grass and mud over the back of Lilly’s car, and then he was gone.
“I’m really sorry about that,” I told her, hugging her lightly. I was fuming inside and wished I hadn’t invited her. It had been a cruel spectacle.
“It’s not a problem. I suppose every parent thinks they know what’s best for their kids,” she said and then stopped, realizing she was talking about a thirty-year-old man who’d made love to her, not a boy scout. It offered up an awkward moment once again. I had my dad to thank for that.