There had been something special between them, something they’d never acted on, either because they’d been afraid to sever a friendship that represented the only stability in their young lives, or because neither quite knew what to do with what they were feeling. Maybe even back then, they’d subconsciously realized that sex alone wouldn’t be enough.
Although Lacey had to admit, at the moment, sex sounded awfully appealing. Still, they’d never had the chance to scratch the surface of that first love, leaving them emotionally wanting more.
Leaving her wanting more. She never really knew how Ty had felt, whether he’d really liked her or whether he just enjoyed being her hero.
At least now they were adults, capable of making grown-up choices and dealing with the consequences, she thought. Consequences that for Lacey included Ty showing up when she had an unanswered marriage proposal from another man.
“Tell me about the time after you ‘disappeared’.” Ty spoke, his voice a welcome distraction from both her thoughts and her desires.
Apparently he didn’t intend to take things any further and she found herself feeling both disappointed and relieved at the same time. “Look around you. I’ve done okay.” More than okay, as her business proved.
But as she spoke, she realized this was the second time tonight she’d defended her small apartment and her life. For no good reason. Ty hadn’t belittled who and what she’d become. She wasn’t used to feeling defensive—usually, she was more than proud of all she’d accomplished.
Ty’s presence reminded her of the good and the bad things in her past and forced her to face how different her life had turned out than what she’d envisioned as a child. It wasn’t what her parents would have wanted, but given the reasons and the things she’d been through, Lacey felt sure they’d be proud, too. Which was just another reason Odd Jobs meant so much to her. It was something tangible she could point to that proved Lilly Dumont had survived.
Ty nodded. “You’ve done more than okay, but what I see now doesn’t tell me how you got here.”
She drew a deep breath. The past was something she preferred to keep there, but as her onetime coconspirator, Ty had a right to some answers. And just maybe, talking about it would help her release some of the pain she still held inside.
She glanced down at her intertwined hands, remembering the dark night with too much ease. “I walked for about half an hour and right outside of town, I met up with your friend. The one who’d stolen Uncle Marc’s car. We drove to a place far enough away where no one would recognize me. Then I took a bus to New York City .”
“Just like we planned.”
“Right.” But no one had planned beyond that. “I crashed on the bus and when we arrived, it was the next day. I had the small stash of money you and Hunter had given to me. I slept in a YWCA one night, a bus terminal another.”
He winced.
She ignored it and kept talking. “I washed dishes and I got by. Eventually I met someone who cleaned apartments. She worked for a Spanish woman who hired immigrant girls. By that time, my hands were rough enough from detergent and water, so somehow I convinced her I could handle the work. That pretty much saved my life because I’d run out of free or cheap places to sleep and it was getting harder and harder to duck the johns and pimps in the bus and train stations.”
“God, Lilly, I had no idea.”
The raw distress in his voice touched a place deep inside her. She didn’t want him holding himself responsible for something he hadn’t caused. He’d saved her life and she’d never forget.
He reached out and grabbed her hand. Ten years too late and yet it was exactly what she needed now.
“None of us did.” She curled her fingers around his, the warmth and strength giving her the motivation to continue. “But things got better after that. The woman who hired me—her name was Marina —let me sleep on the floor in her apartment until I found a dirt-cheap rental.”
“How bad was it?”
She hadn’t wanted to upset him but he’d asked. “The place came with company. There were cockroaches on the walls.” She tried not to gag on the vivid memory. “And a drunk lived next door. He liked to wander the halls in the dead of night. The locks on the apartment door didn’t work and the superintendent ignored my requests to fix it. I couldn’t afford to pay for a locksmith myself so I’d drag a dresser in front of the door at night for security.”
“God,” he said again. He ran a hand over his face.
She didn’t know what to say, so she remained quiet.
Finally he asked. “And what’s your life like now?”
A much easier topic, she thought, and smiled. “I run a business called Odd Jobs that caters to the working man or woman,” she said with pride in her voice. “I have about fifteen employees depending on the day and their moods. We walk dogs, clean apartments, food shop, whatever the busy person needs us to do. Over time I’ve accumulated a loyal clientele and I’ve been able to increase prices. Things are going pretty well.”
He grinned. “You’ve made an amazing climb.”
The way she’d seen it, she had no choice but to keep going.
“I admire you, you know.”
His words took her by surprise, but warmed her at the same time. Still, she wasn’t looking for his pity or admiration.
“I only did what I had to do to survive. What about you?” she asked Ty.
She wanted to know why he had dropped out of college when that had been his goal for so long.
And what explained the difference in his tone when he’d spoken of his mother? The shift had been subtle, but she’d noticed it just the same. She wondered what had caused it.
“Ty? What happened to you and Hunter after I left?” she asked, curious to fill in those years.
“That’s a story for another day.” He glanced down and his eyes suddenly widened, as he realized he still clasped her hand in his.
She wished he’d pull her up and into a long, lingering kiss. The kind she used to dream about when she slept in his house, his room a few feet away. And later, the kind that kept her warm at night when she thought she’d go crazy from fear and loneliness.
Tonight wasn’t the first time she’d seen longing and desire in the depths of his eyes and it wasn’t the first time she’d allowed herself to let the present disappear. Just like before, when they were together, little else mattered.