- Lily -
I’d never been so nervous to meet a man. Playing a role for a paycheck was one thing, but being myself was a much tougher challenge…though I was determined to try.
I owed Sebastian at least that much. After all, what I did to him was horrible, even though I’d had no choice at the time.
His dad said I needed to go, and he was the only adult I trusted back then. And I was right to put my faith in him. The fact that I was still walking the streets was proof of that.
I just wished I had some way of knowing how Mr. Rodriguez would feel about me meeting Sebastian now. What if he found out and decided I’d broken my side of our bargain? What if he decided to do the same?
No. He would never. He was a good man. All the Rodriguez men were good men. Especially Sebastian, who still seemed to care about me, God knows why.
He was waiting at the bar when I walked into The Blue Note, and my throat closed up before I even had a chance to inhale the scent of cigars that always lingered in the air there. I didn’t know why it smelled that way. Smoking inside had been illegal for years, but even as a non-smoker, the mysterious musk seemed to make the live jazz that came on every night at nine sound even better.
I wore a little white dress with a ruffled bottom that made me feel feminine and girly. I thought it might help me channel the fun girl I was when he last knew me. Sebastian liked me best in red, but that seemed too obvious. I didn’t want to give him the wrong impression.
He stood from the bar as soon as he noticed me, and when he checked me out, I felt like a teenager again. It was as if his piercing brown eyes sank into my skin, as if he wasn’t just admiring me, but studying me, too.
I squeezed my clutch in my hand and leaned forward so he could press his cheek to mine. He smelled like a man. He’d clearly swapped the Axe body spray of his youth for something more expensive, and it suited him. Being older suited him. The shallow lines around his eyes were proof that he’d smiled a lot during our time apart, and that made me happy. His smile alone used to be my world.
“I hope you haven’t been waiting long,” I said, leaning an elbow on the bar.
“Not at all,” he said, lifting his fingers to get the bartender’s attention. “Unless you count the first five years.”
My heart sank.
“What’ll you have?” Sebastian asked when the bartender arrived.
“Hendricks and tonic,” I said. “With a cucumber slice, please.”
The bartender nodded before raising his eyes at Sebastian.
“Same,” he said. “But I’ll have lime instead of cucumber.”
I slid onto the barstool and dragged my eyes up his toned body, wondering who all the trouble was for and how he’d look without his tailored clothes on.
He turned to me, and his eyes smiled.
My heart broke at how handsome he was.
“My dad is going to flip when I tell him I found you.”
“You haven’t told him?”
“Not yet.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t,” I said. “I don’t think he ever liked me that much.”
Sebastian’s face twisted. “Are you kidding? He’s been looking for you since you left.”
It pained me to imagine Mr. Rodriguez lying to comfort his heartbroken son.
“He didn’t have the jurisdiction to ask for your records, though.”
Oh God.
“He said the trail went cold when he found out they’d put you in witness protection.”
“That’s the idea,” I said, afraid to say anything that might expose his father’s lies.
“To be honest, I’m relieved you’re alive.”
That makes one of us.
“I was worried that maybe whoever killed your dad…” He looked down for a second before raising his eyes again. “I’m so sorry, by the way.”
I swallowed.
“About what happened to him.”
You wouldn’t be if you knew the truth. “Thanks.”
“I have a lot of guilt over the fact that I wasn’t there for you after that happened.”
“It wasn’t your fault. I knew you would’ve been if—” A lump rose in my throat at the memory of how he stood by me after my mom’s death, how he let me break down in his arms over and over again. “I knew, okay?”
“I still don’t understand why you didn’t send me anything. Even an unsigned postcard. Something to let me know you were okay.”
The waiter arrived with our drinks, and I offered him a smile before turning back to Sebastian, whose dark eyes were still fixed on me.
“I’m sorry.” I slid my glass closer. “I just couldn’t.”
I could tell by his body language that he wanted to reach for me, wanted to touch my face, to pull me close. But I was afraid of all of those things. My survival relied on my ability to maintain a certain degree of numbness, on my ability to shun complicated emotions like the ones he stirred in me.
“I forgive you,” he said. “For what it’s worth, I never believed you wanted to hurt me on purpose.”
I reached forward and touched his knee. He was solid, warm, alive. Just like I remembered. Pure goodness wrapped in the most handsome package I’d ever seen. I stared down at my hand on his knee and then lifted my eyes to his. “Can we talk about something else?”
“Anything you want.”
I smiled and pulled my hand back.
“What did you have in mind?”
“Give me three choices.”
His face lifted. He remembered. I used to be so indecisive I infuriated even myself. Now I made decisions all the time like it was nothing, like you have to when you have no one else to consult. But back then I could always ask him. Where will we get dinner? Three choices. What movie will we see? Three choices. Where should I kiss you next? Three choices.
And the thing I loved most about him was that he never gave me bad choices. He only ever offered the best three, and I had to pick one. That was the deal. But it was easy because his company was always built into every choice.
He crossed his arms and wrapped a broad hand around his chin.
“I’m waiting,” I said. Because that was part of the game, too. To pretend that he was the one holding us up, when it was always me.
“Okay,” he said, clearing his throat and tilting his head back to shift some chunks of dark hair away from his face.
I straightened up.
“Your choices are: we can talk about what you’re doing for work these days, since—last I checked—you’re not still working at Petey’s Pizza.”
One corner of my mouth curled up. “I hope you got pizza when you checked.”
“Of course. You know I can’t say no to a slice of spicy pepperoni.”
“Who can?”
“You can tell me how Paige is doing,” he said. “Since I always liked her best.”
I nodded. “Most people do.”
“Or,” he continued, his dark eyes flashing at me. “You can tell me how you’ve managed to become even more stunning than I remember. Because I swear to God you were the prettiest girl that ever lived, and it doesn’t seem fair that you should get to be the prettiest woman, too.”