“I had no choice. They threatened my family!” he yelled desperately. “Caleb, they fucking threatened my family. I told you about Laura, and Carlie, and Tristan. Carlie finally opened her boutique last month, and Tristan is going to college this fall. He got into Yale, Caleb. Fucking Yale. He’s going to be a lawyer so he can get my sorry ass out of here.”
I took a deep breath. “Frank, I owe you nothing. I’ve paid you back and then some more for teaching me the ropes. That boutique you’re so proud your daughter opened, Tristan’s tuition? I helped you earn all that to send to them. I don’t owe you anything.”
“I know,” he said. “I fucking know but... Caleb. This is just one product. You’re the smartest motherfucker I’ve ever met in my life, so I know you can do it. I’ve already sold it to them. Please let them have it.”
“Are you out of your bloody mind? This was something I mentioned in passing to you four fucking years ago. I don’t need to play with fire anymore.”
“C’mon man. It will be one last hurrah. It was a great idea then, and it still is. I hear you’re opening a new firm.”
I scowled, the first strings of disquiet rattling through my consciousness. Frank knew too much about my life.
“Which is a good thing,” he was saying. “You’ll want to make it all official and legal. There’s something in it for you too. You’ll make a shitload of money too. For me I just want them to leave my family alone.”
“Fuck you, Frank!” I snarled, and pulled the phone away from my ear to end the call. At that moment he screamed out a name that drove a punch into my gut.
“Willow! Willow Rayne!”
I froze. My hand trembled with fury as I returned the phone back to my ear. “You told them about her?” My voice was ice, pure ice.
“I didn’t mean to, but it might have slipped out,” he replied evasively. “But even if I hadn’t told them they would have found out. If you refuse to comply, she’s going to become their target. That’s how they run, man. They catch you by the balls and squeeze. For God’s sake man, just make this product and get us out of this mess.”
The call was abruptly cut off by one of the screws and I was so damn furious, I wanted to smash my fist into a wall. I was so livid, my whole body vibrated with it. I clenched my fists and tried hard to control my ragged breathing.
I’d thought I’d tied up all the loose strings that belonged inside the four walls of Folsom, but they were coming loose once again. Willow! A chill went down my spine. I hadn’t yet responded to her message yet. I pulled it up and typed in my answer.
How does this weekend sound?
I remained standing, my gaze at the calm, blue water of pool as I waited for her response to come in. A few seconds later it did.
This weekend sounds good.
13
Willow
“He didn’t sound too excited about taking me out. Okay, excitement might be a bit much to ask. I would have been happy with eager, but he just sounded … I don’t know, almost cold. As if he was arranging a business meeting.”
“‘What do you expect? He’s the dark and brooding type. I like that in a man.”
I had very little experience of men, knew next to nothing about how to please them, and nothing about how to intrigue them. In fact, most men found me unapproachable or boring. I chewed my bottom lip nervously. “Or maybe he’s not looking forward to the date.”
Sandra looked up from the jacket she was lint rolling for me, a disapproving frown on her face. “You’ve been saying that since Wednesday. Stop it. Please.”
“Well, that’s because he hasn’t even texted me since Wednesday. Is that normal? Does a man just stop making any contact once you’ve agreed to a date with him?”
“Maybe he’s busy. Maybe he’s sick. Maybe he lost a toe. A thousand things could have held his attention beyond texting you every minute to say how excited he is about your date.”
My hand tightened around my phone. “Be honest with me, Sandra. Wouldn’t he have tried to at least get to know me better if he was really interested?”
“Not necessarily. Every man reacts differently so stop overthinking this or you’ll ruin it for yourself. I always look at the worst-case scenario before I go into any situation and decide if I can live with it. In this case, he’s not interested in you and he just wants a one-night stand.” She shrugs carelessly. “So what? Bang his brains out. Trust me, a man like him will make a fantastic one-night stand. Those muscles. Those big, strong hands. Those thighs. And that bulge. Hell, he has a big bulge in his pants. You can go all night long with a bulge like that.”
I knew she was trying to make me feel better, but she didn’t understand. I would die if all he wanted from me was a one-night stand. Even thinking he only wanted a one-night stand with me made me feel sick to my stomach. “You shouldn’t have asked him for his number. Maybe he’s not trying so hard now because I didn’t make him work for it.”
Sandra straightened then, and turned to me. “You did not just say that.”
“I did.” I sighed. “My brain’s starting to malfunction, but then again it could be the truth.”
She came to the counter and handed the jacket over. “Relax, babe. This isn’t a marriage proposal. Didn’t he contact you about the location and time? And he got your opinion on it before he went ahead with arrangements. In my book that’s adequate effort. He’s interested. Plus, he’s taking you to The Ivy. No man is going to spend that kind of money on a one-night stand. So… go on the date, and if he turns out to be a jackass looking for a wet hole, then come back to me with the story. Just remember if you don’t want to oblige, I’ll be happy to be his very wet hole.” She grinned broadly.
I shook my head at her, some of the tension leaving me. Sandra was a good egg. She’d always been there for me. And me her. “You’re bad, you know.”
“Bad? I’m downright wicked. Maybe l’ll teach you some moves you can make on him.”
I giggled as I placed my phone on the counter, and began to slip my arms into the jacket. "I’m still waiting for him to send a text to cancel.”
She searched my face, her expression serious. “Oh, my God, you think you’re not good enough for him.”
“It’s not that exactly, but I can’t help feeling he is out of my league. To start with he looks like a movie star and he’s obviously super successful. I mean, what’s he even doing in this town when LA is just around the corner?”
“Well you can ask him these burning questions on your date tonight, can’t you?” She came over then to pull me away from the counter. “And plus, you’re not out of his league. I would kill for your hair and your eyes. I would do even worse things for that body of yours. And you’re real smart. This flower shop will become successful one day and you’ll make a shit ton of money, most of which you’ll send to me as an allowance for being such a good friend. But let’s not talk about the future yet. Right now, it’s past seven and you need to get going, or you’ll be late to the restaurant.”
“I could get stood up,” I muttered as I grabbed my purse and walked towards the door.
“In that case grab a cab and come right back here. I have Champagne. We’ll make our own party.”
I stopped at her statement, fear gripping my stomach. “Really, that’s your response.”
“What else do you want me to say? No, Willow, you’re too good to be stood up. I’ve been stood up at least five times in my life while you haven’t, even once. You can’t live your life as squeaky clean as that, so go strut that virgin pussy of yours out in the world and be disregarded like the rest of us. Have you called an Uber?”
“I’m taking the van.”
Her mouth fell open. “You’re going to arrive at the date in this hideous van? You’re wearing a four-hundred-dollar dress. My four-hundred-dollar dress!”
“You bought it in a sale for a hundred and fifty dollars,’ I threw over my shoulder as I hurried outside before she could stop me. She followed me out.
‘I’m no
t going to waste my money on an Uber when this works perfectly well,” I said, as I jumped into the rickety, washed out van and locked the doors so that she wouldn’t be able to open it.
She grabbed onto the door handle and tried to pull the driver’s door open. “This is why he’s going to dump you after the first date. Open this freaking door. I’ll pay for the damn Uber.”
I started the engine, rolled the window down, and stuck my tongue out at her before pulling away.
“Willow!” she shouted at the top of her lungs in the street.
I waved at her through the rear-view mirror, and continued on my way towards the restaurant.
14
Caleb
I arrived at the restaurant twenty minutes early. I could have gone in and had a drink, but I felt too restless to sit down. I paced the ground next to the valet, who discreetly kept throwing me strange glances.
We’d agreed to meet at 7:30pm, and it was now exactly fifteen minutes past. If it had been anyone else I would have already walked off, irritated to have lost that time, but when it came to Willow, twelve years had been nothing. What was another hour or even two?
When we were young she was always late. Even then I didn’t mind waiting. I remembered her worried little face as she ran towards me. Breathlessly, she would apologize, “I’m sorry I’m late, Caleb. I was (insert reason, usually reading) and the time just flew away from me.”
“Caleb?” I heard her voice call out to me, and turned around towards the street. I thought she would arrive and use the valet parking service like I had. Instead, she was heading towards me on foot, in a light, pale pink dress that billowed in the soft evening breeze.
Her hair was not as straight as it had been the last time, and it took me back to the past. Back then, she used to have light waves and curly ends, and I could vividly remember my fingers gently sifting through the golden strands. It saddened me that it would be a while again before I was allowed that privilege with her. I went forward, and met her; she was slightly out of breath.
“I’m sorry I’m late. I was at the shop and the time just flew away from me.”
I was speechless at the nostalgia that hit me in the guts. Everything had changed and yet nothing had.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she whispered.
I shook my head. “Someone walked over my grave.”
Her eyes widened.
“Shall we?” I asked, my hand beckoning for her to walk on.
She nodded and went ahead of me. I watched as her petite body, balanced on high pink heels, swayed to the unhurried, seductive pace of her walk. A fire flared in my loins and I hardened immediately at the sight. I could watch her forever. She wasn’t mine yet, but I couldn’t help the fierce pride of possession roaring inside me.
I was determined to make her mine again.
I reached over and pushed open the door for her. Maybe she was one of those women who wanted to open their own doors, but fuck it, until she told me otherwise, I was going to treat her like the princess she was. I had asked for a secluded table and we were given one in an intimate corner.
This place itself was particularly cozy with white blossoms on the walls, candles on the tables. Soft, romantic music filled the air.
“I can smell roses,” she said, wrinkling her nose.
I took a deep breath and indeed there was a subtle scent of roses in the air. “Hmmm.”
“I’ve never been to this restaurant.”
I smiled at her. “Neither have I.”
She smiled back as we settled in and I felt my heart stop. I had to look away to regain my senses. This woman had absolutely no idea of the hold she had on me. I tried not to stare too hard as she picked up the menu and looked at it. In the light of the golden candlelight her skin seemed to glow like marble. A small willow tree necklace gleamed between the soft skin of her collarbones. I stared at it. She had saved it. She saw me staring and touched the necklace, self-consciously. “It’s just an old trinket, but I’m insanely attached to it.” Our eyes met. Her teeth sank into her plump bottom lip and I felt my cock jerk.
“Would you like something to drink?” I croaked.
She nodded and tucked her hair behind her ears. She was nervous. It was an old habit of hers. Whenever she didn’t feel confident she did that.
“A glass of wine would be nice. The ...” As she moved her finger down the list, I signaled to the waiter and he began to head over to us.
“The Skinnygirl Moscato will do,” she concluded.
Thankfully, the waiter arrived so I placed her order and then mine, simply opting for a bottle of the Moscato wine she’d ordered. Spending the last twelve years in prison meant I knew nothing about fine wines or great dishes.
“I have to drive home,” she murmured, “so I’m having to limit myself to only one glass.”
“Don’t worry,” I assured. “If necessary I can always send someone to bring your car to you in the morning.”
Her smile was nervous. “I’d rather just drive home.”
I nodded in agreement, but didn’t cancel the bottle order, then regretted it when the wine came. It was so damn sweet I nearly spat it out. She laughed at my expression. “Don’t you like it?”
“No.” I put it to one side and ordered a neat whiskey.
15
Caleb
For our meal order I took charge. When she was young she had always loved crab and I saw the crab dish on the seven-course starter meal for two. I knew she would never dream of ordering it herself so I ordered the seven-course starter meal for both of us. As soon as the waiter slinked away she leaned forward.
“There were no prices on my menu. I hope that seven-course meal was not too expensive.”
“Don’t worry I can afford it.”
“It’s just I feel so extravagant having seven courses.”
“I’ve never had one before, but I believe it’s made up of tiny portions,” I said honestly.
“I wouldn’t mind a bigger portion of crab though. It’s my favorite.”
“I know.”
Her head tilted. “You do?”
Damn, I was no good at this lying game. “I meant you look like a girl who loves good food.”
She grinned cheekily. “What does a girl who loves crab look like?”
“She looks like a girl who loves life. She uses her fingers to eat, laughs a lot, loves the wind in her hair, wears comfortable shoes, cries at movies, sings in the shower, is loyal to a fault, and will defend the people she loves to her death.”
She leaned back in surprise, her eyes twinkling. “You got all that from the fact that I love crab?”
“I’m a good judge of character.”
“I’m terrible at reading people,” she admitted.
“You may be better than you think. Go on, take a shot at reading me.”
She took a sip of wine and gazed at me from above the rim of her glass. She placed the glass back on the table, her eyes never leaving mine. “Okay. I think you’re the strong, silent type and very brave. I also get the impression you’re very resourceful. If I had to be stuck on a deserted island with only one other person I would chose you, because I just know you would figure out a way for us to survive. You’d climb the coconut trees and find a way to break the fruit open without a knife. You’d make a fire so I can cook the fish you’ve caught, and you’d find a way to build us a shelter and some kind of shower contraption. Who knows, give you enough time and you might even fashion a raft for us to leave the island on.”
I laugh at her description. That was exactly what I would have done too. I heard my own voice laughing and I realized I hadn’t laughed like this for a long, long time. In fact, the last time was when I was with her.
She frowns. “You’re tough and successful on the outside, but inside you’ve got some great pain. Some hurt that you are hiding from the world.”
Suddenly the atmosphere between us changed. Electricity crackled between us. That was too close to the bone. “That ne
cklace,” I whispered, grasping on the first thing that came into my mind. “Where did you get it from?”
She traced the delicate gold pendant. “My father gave it to me on my tenth birthday.”
I thought of the Powerpuff watch sitting on my night stand. There was a time she had refused to take it off. But of course, she probably couldn’t recall any of that time. I watched her face, my heart heavy with sadness for all that she had been through. If only I had realized earlier. I could have done something. I wanted her to remember me, God, how much I wanted her to, but if it meant remembering those dark, painful memories, then I was okay with her not remembering us. The way we were. It was a special type of torment, but I had broad shoulders. I could bear it for us.
“He died in a car accident,” she said softly. “Both my parents did.”
“I’m sorry.” It sounded lame. Stupid. I wanted to reach across the table, take her in my arms and rock her until the hurt fell out of her, but I couldn’t. I could just sit opposite her and make inane platitudes.
“It’s okay. It happened a very long time ago. I was incredibly lucky. I was adopted by two wonderful human beings. You have to meet them one day. They are truly amazing. I even switched out my middle name for my adopted mother’s.”
“What is it?” I asked.
“Sabrina. My full name is Willow Sabrina Rayne.”
“It’s a pretty name. It suits you.”
“Thank you.” She bobbed her head awkwardly. She had always been lousy at taking compliments. Even something as mild as a pretty name. “What about you?” she asked. “Do you have a middle name?”
“Nope.”
“Caleb’s a great name,” she said. “It suits you.”
“Thank you,” I replied gravely.
The waiter arrived with our first course then. Salmon Tartare, and we got right into it. It was delicious. I was more than content to sit silently there with her eating the most delicious thing I’d ever had in my life, but I was no longer at the canteen. I was out in society, where civilized conversation was part of the ritual of eating.
Saint & Sinner: A Second Chance Romance Page 6