HOUSE HUNTING
Jordan
“There’s a terrace up here, darling,” my mom called from the upstairs. She actually sounded excited about this one, which was giving me a modicum of something resembling happiness.
I hadn’t had much joy in my world since Lacey cut me out of hers. Speaking of cuts, I glanced at the cuts on my hands, healing but still swollen—little reminders of her. All that was left of our nonexistent relationship: bruises and cuts. And questions.
Like what was she doing there at that bar with that creepy guy and dressed like that?
It was like I didn’t know her at all.
Which was a fair assessment. We didn’t know each other that well.
And that wasn’t the first time she’d acted insanely.
My mind bitterly replayed the moment she fled from the limo, the exact reason I didn’t want to have sex in the fucking car like she was a fling or a one-night stand. She made such a stink about not being a one-night stand and then acted just like one. And made me one, too, whether I liked it or not. Which I didn’t.
I’d felt nothing but desperation and anger. Weeks of it. Two weeks to be exact. My only reprieve had been saving her.
But it didn’t save me from the pain of her abandonment.
The moment that again, like Cinderella, she left me. I desperately wanted to run into her so I could berate her with a scathing remark. I’d been practicing for days what I would say to her if I saw her again.
“Oh, and the master suite is up here. You should come see it. I think you’ll like this,” Mom called down.
I rounded the great room and went up the stairs. The prewar co-op was my favorite thus far, and it was on East Eighty-Sixth, between Park Avenue and Fifth, which was conveniently close to the park. I could take a leisurely stroll through the park every morning. I could even get a dog.
And with a terrace, I wouldn’t worry about leaving the little guy out for the morning or afternoon on nice days.
“You could get a dog.” My mother beamed, reading my mind. She had gone from Dad’s little puppet to a woman reborn. She was switched back on.
I didn’t ask what happened.
What changed her.
At first, I’d thought it was just knowing I was leaving and that she would have to be alone with him. But the fact that she’d already had the divorce proceedings underway suggested this had been something she thought about a lot. A scary amount, actually. Sort of how much I thought about Lacey.
For days after she’d run from the car, I texted. I called. I waited outside her work. I did everything someone in my position would do, but she was masterful in her avoidance of me.
I even saved her life, a second time.
But she didn’t stick around to thank me. She ran.
I understood that a little more.
She was in shock and desperately upset and scared, as she should have been.
I was too.
I’d never hit someone like that in my life.
I saw a guy grab her, and I lost all sense. I hardly recalled it.
I saw red rage and nothing else.
Her scream still haunted me.
Along with the fact that she’d never called or texted or so much as thanked me.
It made me realize I had to accept my fate. She didn’t feel the same way I did. I didn’t believe it. I didn’t want to, because the way everything had happened, the way she’d acted, suggested she did like me. A lot.
And then she didn’t.
“This is lovely, look at the view.” Mom was gushing about the place to the point that I started to wonder if she wanted it herself. Staying with Cynthia and Stephen had to be a burden. She was rich beyond belief, but she couldn’t bear to be alone. “You would have an office, a guest room, a stunning master, this quiet library, and a great room to host parties with your friends.”
“Do you want to stay with me?” I asked, surprising even myself.
Tears flooded her eyes. “Are you serious?” Her voice broke.
“Why don’t you take the master bedroom, and then you could make this library a nice quiet area to sit and relax. And we can get a dog, and you can hang with him when I’m at work or school or whatever it is I’m going to do with my life.”
“Oh, Jordie.” She practically fell into my arms, sobbing on my shoulder. “I’m-I’m so sorry.”
“Please don’t. Please don’t be sorry.” My heart broke for her. She was acting like this divorce was nothing, but it was something. Something huge.
Dad was mystified, of course. Stephen was still seeing him and said he was a mess. He’d cried twice since she left. Hadn’t drunk once. Was completely stupefied as to how this could happen to him. And in fact, he blamed me.
Which made sense . . . to no one else.
He still wouldn’t see me. I’d tried, twice.
“I think you’re right, Mom. This is it.” I hugged her and kissed the top of her head. I slipped her small hand into mine and led her down the stairs. “We’ll take it.” I smiled at the Realtor. “Let’s go write up the offer.”
“These prewar buildings never have penthouse apartments come up and especially not ones that are fast possession dates like this.”
“You don’t have to sell it to me, Sloan. Thanks. She likes it.” I smiled and led my mom to the foyer.
We rode in the car to the office and brought Sloan with us upstairs. Jack would want his shot at negotiating. He liked yelling at people.
When we got upstairs, Grandpa’s face lit up from behind the glass walls of his office. He burst through the doors, hands out and smile wide. “There she is!” I imagined him and Frederick La Croix were close to being the same person, only Frederick was a gentleman. Jack was not. But when he kissed his daughter on the cheek and hugged her tightly, whispering something that made her chuckle, his heart shined through. Like he had gotten her back. Or maybe she forgave him for forcing the relationship with Dad after all those years.
“My boy!” He turned to me, hugging me as well. “How was house hunting?”
“Fruitful.” I glanced back at Sloan. “We found one we like. Smaller, but it’s all we need right now.” I held a hand out to our Realtor. “I’m sorry for everything he says while he’s in the middle of negotiating.”
She smiled nervously. “Oh, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
“Hah!” Jack led her to the conference room and closed the door.
“Poor woman.”
“It’s a good commission.” I gave Mom a grin. “And she’s going to earn every dime.”
Stephen came out of his office, beaming when he saw her. “Mom!” He hugged her, staying a little longer than he used to. We all did. “Dick.” He nodded at me.
“Steph.”
“What’s going on? You going to the gala tonight?”
“Gala?” I sighed. “Spring gala?”
“No, that was months ago. We were there. Raised funds for the Met or something.” He was mocking me or the event or all of it. These social gatherings all blended together in my book.
“What’s this gala?” I asked. “Another pointless excuse for the upper class to brush shoulders and trade miseries and mistresses?”
“You really haven’t heard?” He frowned.
“What?” I snapped.
“Frederick La Croix is hosting a fundraiser for that girl’s family. Lacey Winters. To benefit her brother’s type of cancer.”
“He’s cured,” I said sardonically.
“Yeah and they’re middle class, moron. I guess she couldn’t afford her last year of college because her parents had to use her tuition money to pay for his treatments. She’s been working, like, a bunch of jobs. Monty said she never told La Croix, and when he offered her help, she refused to take his money. And now he’s selling plates for a grand a pop, and I heard he’s up to three hundred people. Whatever money doesn’t go to her family goes to the kids’ cancer society or some shit.”
“Holy shit!” I stepped back. This was what Lacey had been going through these last couple of weeks? I was dying to see her, and she was dying from the crushing pressure of everything else crumbling in her world. My heart skipped a beat. Maybe she didn’t want to start something because she was ashamed of her financial situation. Or she was working multiple jobs. Or maybe she just honestly had too much on her plate. Maybe she did like me, and that was the problem. She didn’t have time for me.
“Of course. Mom did. I told her to buy six. I figured you could come up with a date?” He lifted his eyebrow.
“I’ll find one.” I needed to find someone who wouldn’t be a real date and wouldn’t be offended when I spent all my time trying to get that girl to talk to me.
“Find two. We have an extra seat. Jack’s bowed out. Has plans with some—thing none of us wants to know about.” His eyes darted to our mom as he recovered fast.
She scowled. “I honestly don’t. I don’t know how the man has the strength for all this.” She shook her head and walked away.
“Viagra,” Stephen muttered, winking at me.
“And that’s our grandpa, so hard pass on the details.”
“You’re such a virgin.” He whacked me in the balls and walked away while I fought to not take a knee. “Monty said you aren’t returning his texts or calls, by the way. Stop being a little bitch and get a social life.” He flipped me off and sauntered into his office.
Even through the pain in my balls, I was focused. I needed a plan for the gala night to go my way.
As I hurried to my office, a thought kicked me in the guts.
What if she had been dressed like a whore, in a gross bar, letting some slob drool on her for money?
Lacey Winters, a hooker?
Everything in me simultaneously died and lit on fire, burning the remains of my spirit.
I trembled with rage at the idea of other men touching her, her being so broke she would do anything for money.
I needed answers. I was never going to be sane again until I had them.