by S. L. Scott
Eyebrows tug to the center, and his mouth goes to one side. “It would be nice if the threat was eliminated, but until it is, this seemed like a good bandage on the situation.”
As fear creeps back into my veins, I ask what I’m not sure I want the answer to, “Do you think we’re in danger here?”
“I think we’re in danger anywhere. Everywhere.”
“Then what do we do?”
“We live. We spite whoever it is and live.” He comes over, and I lean toward him when the bed dips. Rubbing my arms, he says, “Let’s enjoy tonight. We can worry about everything else tomorrow. We’re safe here. Lars is across the hall. So if we need anything, we call out for him.”
“What happens tomorrow?”
Chuckling, he asks, “You’re not going to let this go tonight, are you?”
“No, I can’t.”
He gets up and opens the door. “Can we talk about it over dinner? I’m starving.”
“Yes, I’m hungry too.”
We set the food on the table and sit across from each other. He sets his beer down and says, “I need to fly back tomorrow. I’d like you to go with me.”
“Why so soon?”
“I’m in the middle of renegotiations. I have a meeting I can’t move tomorrow afternoon.”
“What will I do there?”
“What have you’ve been doing here, other than the missing me part?” He waggles his eyebrows, making me smile.
“I’m looking for a job.”
“Look for one in New York. Chip told me to tell you he’d like to have you back.”
Now I chuckle. “I don’t want to go back to a job I hated.”
“You know you don’t have to work at all, right?”
He’s a billionaire.
It’s easy to forget because he’s so easygoing most of the time. Maybe I’ve been naïve to not realize what being with him really means. It just never occurred to me. “I want to work though.”
“Then work. But you can be there with me and look for a job.”
“Ethan, I’m not sure what to say to that.”
“We’re going to be married. You can literally do anything you want to do. I’ll support you . . .” He seems to catch himself and how that actually sounds. “Emotionally, as your husband, your friend, and financially. We’re partners. That’s what marriage is to me.”
Reaching across the table, I hold my palm up. When he sets his in mine, I say, “That’s what it means to me as well, but I don’t want to feel like another one of your obligations.”
His laughter is deep as his hand squeezes mine. “You are the furthest thing from a burden to me, Singer. Money’s not fun if you can’t spend it on the people you love. Let’s have some fun and spend our money together.” He releases me and pulls something out of his robe. Kneeling beside me, he holds a box. “I should have given this to you earlier, but sometimes when I look at you, I feel so grateful I forget to show you how much you mean to me.”
My heart races, my lips part, and those pesky tears resurface. Happy tears only.
He kisses the palm of my hand and says, “Singer Davis, my biggest regret will always be not kissing you on that fire escape. If I had, we would have gotten here a lot faster. The universe sometimes has a mind of its own. But no matter what has happened, we fought our fate and found our destiny. You are it for me. You are everything—my heart, my love, my soul, my minutes, my everything. I want to be everything for you.”
While slipping the ring on my finger, he spins it gently around my finger, admiring it. The diamond is big. Like really freaking huge. The ring is prettier than I ever allowed myself to dream about. But it’s the man who holds my complete attention, who captures my whole heart and forever seals it as his to keep. He says, “Aaron once asked me how do you repay the sun for shining.”
My heart clenches watching this amazing man repeating words I never understood, words according to Aaron that weren’t meant for me. Ethan says, “I didn’t understand what he meant at the time.”
“You do now?”
“I figured it out. That’s what brought me to Boulder today.”
“What is it? What brought you here?”
Pulling me to my feet, he takes one hand in his and the other holds my waist as we start to slow dance. “It’s never been about repaying the sun. It’s about making the sun shine in the dark. Let me be your moon and light your night. Will you marry me, Singer?”
I’m nodding as the happy tears fall down my cheeks, a beautiful ache in my chest reminding me we can live. We can live the rest of our lives together, appreciating every minute of this wonderful life. “I want to be everything you deserve. I’ll shine for you during the day if you shine for me at night.” I lift up and kiss him.
“Sealed with a kiss?”
Untying the belt of his robe, I give him my best wink. “I have a better way to seal this deal.”
I start pulling him toward the bed, but he stops me. “On one condition.”
“Name it. Anything.”
“I get to call you Singer Everest one day.”
My heart swells. He’s the most wonderful man I’ve ever known and is offering me his hand in return for mine. I can’t refuse my soul its mate and will not make the same mistake twice. This time, I’m ready. Yanking the belt from the loops, I toss it and watch as the robe falls open. Dropping mine to the floor, I turn around, giving him full view of my backside as I wiggle it just for him. “If you insist,” I tease.
“I insist, indeed.” His robe falls to the floor and he stalks toward me.
I crawl onto the bed and sit in the middle. “Batter up.”
“I’m going for a homerun.”
“I think your odds are very good.”
“God, I’m going to fucking love this union.”
“The sex tonight or once we’re married?”
Taking me down on the mattress, he settles between my legs and says, “Both, but let’s start with tonight.”
Best deal we ever sealed.
38
Singer
The sky is bluer.
The air warmer.
The sun brighter.
My steps peppier.
Life is good for the first time since . . .
I am missing Ethan already. He flew out on a private jet early this morning. He wanted to drive me home first. Well, Lars drove. Ethan and I made out in the back. He wanted me to leave right then with him, to leave my clothes behind. “Buy more,” he said. “Leave it all behind. We’ll get you all new stuff. Just come with me.”
I kissed lower than his lips for that sweet offer, but I couldn’t leave Boulder like that. The car came to a stop in my driveway, and Lars opened the door. I promptly fell onto the grass on my ass. If I hadn’t been laughing so hard, I might have been embarrassed that my underwear remained in Ethan’s hand . . . inside the car when I tumbled out.
After righting me, Ethan kissed me goodbye but kept my panties. They left and I retrieved the key from under the planter and tiptoed into the house. Not wanting to wake anyone, I tried my darnedest to be quiet, but it’s too hard to keep all this happiness contained.
Busted before I reach the stairs, my mom says, “Good morning.”
Swinging my head to the side, I see her sitting at the breakfast table and detour to join her. “Good morning.” While I pour a cup of coffee, she watches me. “What?”
“You. It’s good to see you smiling.” I stir in creamer, and she adds, “You’re in love with him.”
“I am.”
“No one’s ever made you smile like this.”
I pick my mug up with my left hand and bend my wrist forward while I sip.
Maybe I should have done that when she wasn’t trying to actually drink her coffee, considering I’m wearing said coffee now.
She jumps, dabbing my hand and the ring with napkins. “Oh my. I’m so sorry, but oh my God, Singer. Are you engaged?”
“I am,” I reply, lifting in my seat with excitement. I hold
out my hand. “Ethan asked me to marry him.”
“And you said yes?”
“Yes, of course. You said it yourself. I love him. I don’t want to imagine a life without him, but when I do, it looks a lot like the last month and a half. Sad and pathetic.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a diamond that big. Did he mine for that in the mountains?”
Staring at the ring, I admire it. “It’s a bit, or a lot, big. It’s stunning.”
“It sure is, and wow.”
“Six carats, emerald cut. I love the setting. He said I could take it in and get whatever I want if I prefer something else.”
“Do you?” she asks, sitting in the chair next to me.
“I love it, but I’m not sure if I want to walk around with something so big on my hand. You know, for safety reasons.”
“Update me on that situation. Marriage means you’re going back to New York to be with him?” Her tone is eerily calm, her eyes fixed on me over the lip of her cup while she takes a drink.
“I am.”
“Will you get your old job back?”
The way he referred to it as “our money” has me wanting to fall into this good life with him. “He’s accomplished so much already. I haven’t. I’m going to keep working, at least until we have children. I’ll make the decision then if I’ll go back after.”
“I looked him up online.”
I take a loud intake of air and blow out. “Okay.”
“I assume you know how much money he’s worth?”
“I do.”
“When you came home last month, you said he had a lot of money and maybe that was why someone tried to kill you. I’m your mother. This worries me. All the money in the world isn’t worth risking your life.”
“We don’t know who or why things happened, but I don’t feel unsafe when I’m with him.”
“Singer—”
“Mom. Please. Please let me celebrate an engagement to a man that I would give my life for.”
“Don’t say that. It may happen.”
I stand, wanting to run from the room and pretend I never had this conversation. But I’m a woman now, so I don’t have to escape uncomfortable situations. I need to handle them. “He has security. Until this psycho is caught, I’ll have detail as well.”
“Detail?”
“Security.”
“Sit. Please.”
Giving her the courtesy she deserves, I sit back down. “I don’t want to live my life afraid. What kind of life will that be?”
“None.” Her smile returns. “Congratulations on the engagement. He seems polite and very nice. You weren’t wrong when you said he was handsome. So tell me, when are you leaving me again?”
“I’m not leaving you. I’m starting my life.”
Two days later, I fly in a private jet for the first time. I have to admit, it’s really nice. If that’s a perk of this new life, I’m on board with it. Pardon the pun.
With Ethan in meetings at the office all afternoon, I return to the penthouse. The new driver is nice, but he’s not Aaron. I’m excited to see Aaron and hope he’s up when I arrive. The elevator door opens, and my mouth follows suit. I can barely squeeze the suitcase into the hallway. Vase upon vase fills the black corridor. The gallery lights shine to highlight the hundreds, maybe thousands of pink peonies.
They smell just as pretty as they look. I can only imagine how much he spent on these flowers. I leave my suitcase by the door and walk the narrow path between the vases.
“Hello,” I call when I reach the open area of the apartment.
No one returns a hello though. With no one around and Ethan working until dinner, I decide to do something I’ve wanted to do for weeks.
With time on my side and no one to talk me out of it, I return to my apartment.
Even in broad daylight, standing at the curb, the red-brick, pre-war building feels ominous. I don’t look at the middle of the street, not wanting to see if anything remains of her death. The taxi pulls away, and I hear, “It’s good to see you, Ms. Singer.”
Lowering my gaze from the floor where I used to live, I see Frank. “Hi.” I don’t make him get up. I go to him. “How are you, Frank?”
“You know. The usual. You’ve been missed.”
“Have I?”
With a snaggletooth smile, he says, “Yes. And Ms. Lazarus.”
I try not to snap at him for bringing her death up, but it’s a struggle. It’s only natural for people to mention it, to mention her. That’s something I have to get used to. “I miss her, too.”
“She was a really nice lady.”
“She was.”
An awkward silence falls around us, so I reach into my purse and dig out a twenty. “It’s all I’ve got on me, but it’s yours.”
He takes it, and graciously thanks me. “I didn’t know if you’d ever be back, but in case you were, I’ve been holding on to something for you.”
“For me? You didn’t need to get me anything.”
“I’d like to take credit, but it’s something I found.”
Curious, I watch as he goes back to his pallet and digs through a backpack. When he comes back, he holds out his hand. “I think this belongs to you now.” A silver chain dangles between his fingers. Half a heart with the word BEST on it gleams in the late afternoon sun.
He lowers his hand when I gasp. “Are you all right, Ms. Davis?”
“That was Mel’s.” The sob jolts my chest, rising in my throat. “She never took it off.”
“The clasp is broken. I found it in the street.”
I reach for it, taking it into the palm of my hand. “I can’t believe you found this.”
“I saw it and thought you’d want it.”
“I do. Thank you so much, Frank.” He laughs it off, but I hug him. He’ll never know how much this means to me. My words feeling inadequate, but the only gift I have to give. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I’m really sorry.”
“Thank you, Frank. This means so much to me. Thank you.” My fingers close around the jewelry and I head inside. It’s time to face my demons. I need to start someday, so I’ll start today, feeling stronger with the bracelet.
When I unlock the door, I’m assaulted by memories. I shake my head, hoping to shake them long enough to stay. They’re memories haunting the apartment, not her. Still, I wish I could call out her name and she’d come racing into the living room from her room.
Raising my chin, I go inside and shut the door behind me. I ignore her room, not even looking in that direction when I go to mine. Opening the door to the tiny closet, I take a quick inventory and then bend down and dig out a few flattened boxes I stored under the bed.
Tossing them on the bed, I’m grabbed from behind, a hand over my mouth, taking away any option of screaming. “You should have saved me a dance, Ms. Davis.”
My mind goes into overdrive. I know that voice. “The very lovely Singer Davis. Maybe you’ll save a dance for me?”
The charity ball.
Oh my God.
His hand loosens and his mouth is at my ear, my body cringing. “Can I trust you not to scream for help?”
My thoughts are ping-ponging around my brain in rapid succession. I nod slowly, and his hand lowers. “If you scream, I’ll kill you before anyone can save you. Then I’ll kill your family. Do you understand?”
Nodding, I reply quietly, “Yes.”
When I turn around, I come face-to-face with the man responsible for killing my best friend, and my would-be killer.
The man Ethan despises.
39
Singer
Lucas McCoy.
At first, I’m thrown off as to why Lucas McCoy is in my apartment. But all it takes is one look at his neck to know why. While he stands near the living room window looking out, I see it, and remember: “Grabbing a piece of glass, I cut his neck, wanting to end him.” Aaron’s words.
“That’s a bad scar on your neck. It’s still healing?”
I ask, keeping my eye on him. I stare at him from the couch with his shaking hands and nervous eye twitch. He’s not the same man I met at the ball. This is a man living with demons. A man living with demons has nothing to lose, but I do.
His hand covers his neck, and he looks back at me. “Shut up.” He begins pacing the floor in front of me. To the kitchen, five steps back to the couch. To the bedrooms, fifteen steps back. To the bathroom, ten steps back. Most of what he’s been muttering has been incoherent, although I did pick up “I didn’t mean to” several times. I also caught: “Accidents happen. One did happen.”
I can argue that Melanie’s death may be an accident to him, but it is everything to me. I don’t because he’s not stable. My biggest fear is I may be another one of his accidents if I don’t get out of here quick. Accidents. Oh my God. “You tried to kill me by having me pushed into traffic. How much did you pay that homeless man to murder me?”
I’m pinned by the devil himself. “Thirty dollars. That’s what your life is worth.”
My eyes dart to every nook and cranny, searching for something that can help me. But the last time I was here, Melanie had just straightened the living room. I need to get a knife from the kitchen, but he’s currently walking by it, leaving me no chance to get over there.
“What do you want, Lucas?”
“It was supposed to be a message. To end this standoff. He’s ruined me, is ruining me.”
“Who?”
His dark eyes hit me like a shark in the deep ocean, no emotion, only a killer and his prey. He begins to circle. “You know too much,” he stammers.
“No, I don’t.”
“He wasn’t here and then he was, making my life hell. My father. I’ve become the disappointment he said I would become. While he’s off partying like he’s not destroying lives.”
Trying to reach him, to calm him, I keep my voice controlled and patient, soft, respectful. “Who are you talking about, Lucas?”
He snaps to reality when hearing his name. “Fuck, what am I going to do with you?”
“You don’t have to do anything with me.” Sickness blackens my stomach, turning it. I swallow, the bile burning my throat. I glance to my purse by the door, too far to get and dig a phone out before he can stop me. I let my guard down. I wasn’t thinking it wasn’t safe to be here. Looking at the TV cabinet, a photo of Mel and me during spring break our junior year in college sits in a frame she bought in Jacksonville and took to Boulder. It was our first taste of the world outside our Colorado bubble. We stayed up late for months talking about all the places we wanted to go, all the cities and countries we wanted to visit.