After pulling on her clothes, she looked back at him. It was his face. So friendly, so compassionate. He’d looked as though he really cared. Firstly about the moron who was rude to her at her table and secondly about her not having a ride. He’d looked like someone she could trust.
He was nice looking, but not arrogant about it. He had a boy-next-door type of appeal. He’d only smiled a couple of times. He’d been very solemn. But when he did smile … That slightly dimpled chin and hidden dimple just below his cheek that remained concealed until he felt like revealing it with that sideways grin … Sigh, she thought internally. And so she’d slept with him. To combat the darkness she’d been feeling.
She shouldn’t just leave. But, would he really be interested in her? A woman who threw herself at a stranger. He probably thought she did this with all her customers. She was positive he wouldn’t believe it was a first for her, the reason she’d attempted acting seductive as if she knew what she was doing. All she knew was that she’d wanted to be with him, anything to escape the pain of losing her father.
She searched the breakfast bar that separated the kitchen from the dining and living room area for a piece of paper and jotted a quick note. Not knowing what to say, she simply wrote the truth.
Cameron,
Thanks for the ride home.
It was a wonderful evening.
Alexandra
Why had she signed it Alexandra? She’d told him several times that she wanted him to call her Nicky. She suddenly remembered him whispering her name while they made love, and warmth coursed through her veins at the thoughts the memory invoked. They had made love. It may have been a one-night stand to him, but it definitely wasn’t just sex. He’d held her so tenderly as if they’d made love a hundred times, as if he knew every inch of her body and soul.
She shook off the feelings. It couldn’t be. Look where he lived. She looked around at his immaculate home. It wasn’t super large, but it was nice. Perfect. It had the kind of kitchen she could only dream of cooking in one day. The chrome appliances and granite countertops were clean and modern, as opposed to her dilapidated kitchen, which she could barely turn around in.
A breakfast nook sat at the end of the kitchen with a bay window overlooking a bricked-in courtyard overflowing with potted plants and morning glories climbing the fenced-in retreat.
How she’d love to sit and have coffee with Cameron, but if she didn’t get home before Jonathan woke up — she sucked in a breath — Jonathan would be furious with her. Yes, she’d broken up with him in her mind last night, but still, she’d had sex with another man while living with him.
How could she even imagine living in a place like this, having a boyfriend like Cameron? She was trash, a vagabond. Always moving from place to place, working as a cocktail waitress. Then, getting drunk in front of him like that. He probably assumed that she was a lush, when in fact she hardly drank anymore. She should have told him why she was so troubled, but then he definitely wouldn’t have made love to her. And she had needed him. She’d needed to feel something other than pain. And Cameron had done just that.
Alexandra left Cameron’s house feeling downcast. She would probably never hear from him again. After all, how would that work? She couldn’t very well announce to her ex-boyfriend that here was her new boyfriend when she still lived with him. And where would she go? She couldn’t afford a place on her own. And there was nobody else that she could move in with.
After calling the taxi company she’d programmed into her phone, as often as she had used their service, she sunk to the curb and lowered her head onto her knees.
Half an hour later, Alexandra opened the door to her shabby apartment. It was okay as apartments went, definitely not the worst place she had lived. The worst place had been her car. That had not been fun. Luckily, she’d still had her family gym membership, so at least she had a place to wash up in the morning before school. She wondered if Lilith would delete her from the membership now. It wasn’t as though having her on cost extra; it was a one-price family plan. But Lilith was mean that way. Hopefully, she wouldn’t think to cancel her.
“Nicky?” Jonathan’s voice floated from the bedroom. A hint of worry shadowed his words, but mostly his tone just questioned her whereabouts. She had never stayed out all night. He, on the other hand, had caused her to spend many a night awake, wondering if he was dead somewhere. As he stepped through the doorway, he pulled on a pair of shorts. “Where the hell have you been?”
“At the beach.” It was the truth. She placed her hands on her hips and glared at him. “Where were you? You didn’t answer my calls. What did you expect?”
He scowled right back, his familiar eye twitch letting her know when he was upset. “Were you at Lilith’s?”
She hadn’t thought of that. She could have gone to her stepmother’s beach house. Instead of lying, she walked off.
“I’m talking to you, Nicky. Don’t you dare walk away from me!”
She whirled on him. “It’s none of your business! I told you not to forget me. How many nights have you spent somewhere else?” She stormed into the bathroom, wondering if she smelled like sex. She needed a shower. She locked the door so he wouldn’t be tempted to follow her.
Jonathan banged on the door. “You are my business! And I did come to get you at the normal time, but Gary said you left angry.” He stopped banging for a second. “Please, baby, talk to me.”
“Go away!” Guilt rushed through her. She had never cheated on Jonathan. But as far as she was concerned, they were over. They broke up last night when he didn’t answer her calls after she’d begged him not to forget her.
The thin walls of her apartment shook from him slamming the door. Good. Maybe he’d stay gone. She certainly didn’t plan to track him down. It was over this time. Of course, now she’d have to take a taxi to work.
With no car and no money to do anything anyway, Alexandra spent the entire day lounging around the pool, thinking about Cameron and the differences between him and Jonathan.
Jonathan hadn’t returned home or called, and it was time to go to work. So once again, she had to call a taxi.
When the car pulled up in front of her, she lowered her head, trying to see through the glare on the window.
The taxicab driver lowered the window. “He kept the car again, huh?”
Alexandra smiled at Joe as she climbed into the backseat; he was her favorite driver. In a way, he was like having an uncle around. “Yeah. What else is new?”
He looked at her in the rearview mirror. “You want to just plan on me picking you up tonight at two-thirty?”
She looked out the window and shook her head. “Maybe I’ll just catch a ride home with that new bartender I told you about. He seems to really like me.”
He frowned at her. “I thought you said he was a player.”
She shrugged. “Isn’t that what all guys are, Joe?”
“Nah. There’re some good men out there, Nicky. You just gotta find them. Unfortunately, most of them aren’t hanging out in bars. You should try coming to my church. We got lots of nice boys.”
Alexandra thought about Cameron again. She’d met him in a bar, and he seemed like a nice guy. He hadn’t even been drinking. “Maybe I’ll go next week.” Every week he asked her to church, and every week she told him maybe next week. She hadn’t been since she was a child, and the thought of going scared her for some reason as if everyone would know her and think she was trash.
Joe pulled up in front of the bar where she worked. She held out the fare for him, and he narrowed his eyes as he accepted it. “You be careful, girl.”
She smiled at the genuine concern on the old man’s face. Too bad none of the men in her life cared as much about her welfare as her taxi driver.
The bouncer shook his head as he held open the door for her to enter. “Left you stranded again, huh?”
She nodded her answer, smiling at him for opening the door. “Thanks, Robert.” He was an enormous and scary looki
ng man on the outside, but he was always a gentleman. He’d asked her once if she wanted him to teach Jonathan a lesson on manners. But since he was a sheriff, it probably wouldn’t be good for his career, so she’d smiled and waved off the offer.
It was embarrassing that everyone knew her personal life. But how was she supposed to hide the fact that a taxi dropped her off and picked her up from work two to three nights a week.
“Hey, beautiful,” Brent called from behind the bar. He really was a hunk, but then again, all the bartenders were good looking. She was pretty sure it was a prerequisite for the job.
She stepped up to the counter. “Was Gary ticked at me last night?”
Brent flashed his Hollywood smile, the one that earned him larger tips and a different woman every night if he wanted. “Yeah, but you know he won’t stay mad at you; you’re his favorite.” He leaned over the bar as though he had secret information. “What’d Jonathan do this time? When you gonna dump that loser and come home with me?”
And there it was. What all men wanted. He didn’t ask her to go out with him or if he could take her out for a romantic date. No, he just wanted to take her home. Unfortunately, she had to be diplomatic so he’d stiffen the drinks she requested. She had regulars she had to keep happy too. The only difference was she didn’t sleep with her big spenders. “I might just take you up on that one of these evenings.”
His eyes brightened. “Anytime, Nicky. Anytime.”
Sundays were always slow, but she’d offered to work for another girl. Partly to make up for running out, but mostly because she needed to make some extra money so she could get her own place. The evening at work went by much smoother. Cameron had certainly taken away the dreariness. When she should have been thinking about her troubles and crying over her father’s death, all she thought about was the way he’d whispered her name. The way he kissed her.
Her phone buzzed, startling her from her thoughts. A text message from Jonathan. I’ll be there to get you in an hour.
Of course, now he decided to be prompt. How could she tell him it was over? What would he do? He had practically torn apart the apartment last time she’d broken up with him. She couldn’t. She’d have to save enough money to move out first. Then she’d tell him.
Jonathan was right on time, but he said nothing as she entered the car.
When they arrived back at their apartment, she walked into the bedroom, changed clothes, and crawled into bed.
He followed her onto the bed in silence, moving his body up alongside hers. “Nicky, I’m sorry you’re upset,” he mumbled as he ran his hand up her thigh, resting it on her hip.
No, he wasn’t; he just wanted sex. She pulled herself into a ball, pushing his hand off her body. The idea of him touching her suddenly repulsed her, as though she were cheating on Cameron, a man she’d probably never see again. “I’m not in the mood, Jonathan.”
“Why not? Did you find someone new last night?”
“No.” It was the truth. Cameron wasn’t hers, nor would he ever be. She wasn’t his type. He would find some wonderful, wealthy woman. He obviously was well off. She wondered what else he did for a living; he’d never elaborated on her question. “I’m just not in the mood, okay?” she grumbled, aggravated that she was here with Jonathan instead of Cameron.
Jonathan turned over and punched his pillow up under his head. Good. He wasn’t going to pressure her. This was good for him. He got what he wanted entirely too much. Always had. His family had been wealthy, giving him everything. Jonathan was good looking too, too good looking. He was accustomed to getting what he wanted, and he’d wanted her in high school. Probably because she’d never given him the time of day. He could have had any girl he wanted, and yet he hounded her until she went out with him. He had never been her type. He was a rich kid, and he’d hung out with the other rich kids. She’d hung out with all the degenerates.
Alexandra hadn’t always lived on the poor side of town, though. In fact, her stepmother was extremely wealthy. Not that it had mattered. She’d never bought her clothes or paid for her to go to the spa, as she’d done for her stepsisters. No, anything Alexandra wanted, she had to purchase with her own money that she’d earned babysitting and through other odd jobs. Her father had acted as though he never noticed. But then again, maybe he hadn’t. He wasn’t home enough to notice how poorly they’d treated her.
Alexandra felt tears well up in her eyes. She did love her father. Despite the years of neglect, she still loved him. Tiny gasps emanated from her throat, and she was hard-pressed to control them.
If Jonathan really cared, he would hold her, but she knew he didn’t. They’d just been together forever and neither knew how to end it. She didn’t love him; actually, she didn’t know that she’d ever loved him. She just didn’t know how to handle life without him. And she didn’t know how to escape him. They were going nowhere, fast.
It felt as if time were threatening her to make a change. She was only twenty-two, but she felt thirty. And she knew if she didn’t make something with her life, she would wake up one morning and look into the mirror at the eyes of an old woman.
CHAPTER FOUR
After going to church and begging God for forgiveness, Cameron headed to work. He had actually made a deal with God, knowing that it was against the rules, but he’d done it anyway.
“If only you could make her mine, God,” he pleaded aloud in his car. “I promise, I swear … never again. Even with her. I’ll wait. But please make her mine. Soften her heart. Give me my heart’s desire.”
Sunday was boring at work, so he usually just spent his time surfing the web or following up with clients on the days he had to work. But today he needed to keep his mind busy by actually interacting with customers. He’d drive himself crazy sitting and thinking about last night with Alexandra.
The dealership was only open from 12 to 6 and most of the salesmen just lingered around the sales desk shooting the breeze. Their conversations were always the same: what chick they slept with last night, how drunk they got, and which team they were betting on today. Car salesmen and gambling were synonymous. If it wasn’t football, it was baseball, basketball, horseracing. There was a different sport to gamble on every season.
He rarely had anything to pitch into the conversation, even if he’d wanted to. He didn’t sleep around — he definitely wouldn’t tell them about Alexandra — and he didn’t really care to watch sports on TV. Also, he only enjoyed one type of gambling: the stock market.
His father had taught him well before he passed away. His father had purchased him his first stock in Google and taught him how to ride the market in good times and bad. The number one rules of the game, he’d said: never get attached, and never, ever get greedy. Set your stop-losses.
Cameron had ridden the highs and the lows. His father had purchased a thousand shares of Google for him at its offering price of $85 a share. And Cameron had sold and repurchased hundreds of times after that, but his best sale was when it had hit its peak at over $700 a share. That sale had netted him enough to purchase the condo in Cape Canaveral along with a few additional luxuries he’d usually forfeited.
After his father passed away and his mother sped through her life insurance in a year’s time, he had allowed her to move in with him. His father had always taken care of his mother, and now she was his responsibility. His father had explained to him that he was a co-dependent. Cameron had never understood that as a teenager; now he did. He swore he wasn’t, but he did seem to find women with troubles. The reason he had stopped dating altogether. After his first fiasco in high school, he continued to find one woman after another who only wanted what they could get from him.
Now he was begging God to make Alexandra his, to give him his heart’s desire. Maybe his father had been correct; maybe he suffered from codependency. Because here he sat in the parking lot of Alexandra’s work, praying that her loser boyfriend failed to show again, allowing Cameron to surge to the rescue. He should be at an Al-Anon meetin
g instead of sitting and waiting to help a woman he didn’t even know. His mother would be home in a few days, so he’d have to be prepared.
It was past two, and Alexandra exited the building, her boyfriend’s arm wrapped protectively around her waist. He’d seen the guy arrive earlier in his beat-up Chevy Malibu. He had a feeling it was him. He was tall, taller than Cameron’s six-two frame; he estimated him to be six-four. But he wasn’t bigger. No, he didn’t have near his build. Actually, he was rather lanky and that detail had made Cameron smile. But he was better looking. Men claimed they didn’t know if a man was good looking or not, but they did. They just didn’t want to admit it. No doubt this guy was attractive. He had one of those perfect model-like faces. Sculpted jaw, perfect nose, strong chin. Nothing like him.
Dejectedly, he watched as Alexandra entered the vehicle. She didn’t seem thrilled, though. She just seemed to go along, as though she had nowhere else to go. Yesterday, although she’d seemed sad at first when she’d strolled onto the beach, she’d been giddy and cheerful, even before the alcohol had affected her judgment.
Cameron waited until the Malibu sped out of the parking lot, and then he too pulled out in his Jeep. Only, he headed toward the beach, alone; they headed toward their home, together.
Deciding he needed a friend, he headed south on A1A toward Indian Harbor Beach. His sponsor was an older gentleman who had lived with an alcoholic for thirty years. Tomorrow, he would attend an actual meeting. He had all the meetings memorized so that if his mother came home plastered, he’d have somewhere to turn.
Now, he was begging God to make Alexandra his. She’d practically downed an entire pint of Jim Beam. What was he thinking? Why would he even think of subjecting himself to another alcoholic? It wasn’t her looks; he knew that. It was something else. He wanted to take care of her. Why? Because he was a co-dependent? He couldn’t believe that. Refused to believe it.
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