CHAPTER 7
LACY
I’ve never been in a place like this. Never in my entire life. The restaurant Howie brings me to is beautiful, full of ornate scrolled furniture and high ceilings with plaster molding. All the customers look sophisticated and elegant in their fancy outfits.
Suddenly, my cheeks color. I’m totally out of place! I’m a small-town girl with a working class background. What am I doing here?
Doubt surges through my chest until I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the foyer mirror. I gasp because I look like one of them. The gown fits my body perfectly. My hair is tousled but looks effortlessly glamorous, like a bohemian movie star. My eyes widen.
Howie appears above my shoulder.
“Cinderella,” he whispers into my ear.
All the people at the restaurant know Howie already. The maître d’ bows courteously, and instructs the hostess to bring us to a private room in the back. There are lavish curtains on the walls and candles glowing on white tabletops. I have a knot in my stomach. If I’m Cinderella, when does the clock strike midnight? What happens then? Will I turn into a pumpkin? Will all of this disappear?
As if reading my mind, Howie leans in.
“You know what happens right? At the end of the fairy tale?”
I try to remember.
“Sort of,” I stammer. “Why?”
He grins like a wolf.
“Because the prince comes. He has the glass slipper in his hand and the only one who fits it is you. Believe me, Lacy, I will always find you. I will always be there when you need me.”
I smile. But deep inside, I remember the way Charlie used to say things like that to me. He’d state, “We’re going to get married as soon as I find a good job,” or “I’ll take care of you and Aunt Margaret always.” The difference was, he didn’t look at me when it said those things. He was always watching baseball on TV or drinking a beer with his friends. I feel my eyes welling with tears.
“Lacy,” says Howie. “What is it?”
“It’s just- how do I know- how do I know I can really trust you? If you wanted to, you could throw all of this away! How do I know you haven’t bought all your maids fancy dresses? How do I know Mr. Bates?” comes my plaintive wail.
I can’t believe I’m saying these words. I don’t want to hurt him. But I have to know because it’s all happened so fast. He looks me deep in the eyes. I can see something there. It’s truth.
“Lacy, my darling. My girl. Look, I know how I must come off,” he sighs. The billionaire leans back in his chair and I take him in. His beautiful shoulders, the muscles under his sports coat, his chiseled jaw and bronzed skin. Mr. Bates is any girl’s dream man. I berate myself then. Why did I have to ask him? Why oh why did I blurt out those words.
But Howie’s not mad. He crosses his arms and speaks patiently.
“I know I must come off as some big billionaire playboy. But do you know why I was so moved by your Aunt Margaret today? Why I was so moved by your brown eyes, Lacy? Because I know them. Both of you, you remind me of my mother. Of her beauty and her kindness. She died in my arms while I was at home, age seventeen. I thought she’d just passed out but it turned out to be something more sinister. But I didn’t know it at the time, so I carried her in my arms all the way to the hospital. I carried my dying mother from our beat-up split level house all the way to the emergency room in the rain.” Tears well behind Howie’s eyes. I reach out my hand and take his in mine. We place our twined fingers on the silken table cloth.
“All of this Lacy, all of this fancy bullshit? I know it’s not real. It’s not what really matters. What really matters to me is you. Not just pleasing your pussy, but keeping you safe and happy. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you or the people you love. You are my princess, Lacy. You’re my second chance. I couldn’t save my mother. But I can protect you.”
“Oh, Howie.”
I am shaking. This man before me is so deep. So magnetic. I can tell he’s been through so much.
“Howie that’s so terrible about your mother. I’m so sorry.”
“Well sweetheart, the world is a hard place. I learned the hard way because I almost lost my leg too.”
“Leg?” I ask, astonished. “What? How?”
“Car bomb. Afghanistan. 2007.”
My face goes white as a ghost. I’ve heard those words before. But it can’t be. It just can’t be.
“You’ve served in the military?”
“Yes, honey. I’m sorry to say that my mother isn’t the only dead body I’ve had to carry in my arms.”
“Oh Howie! Oh my god.”
“I’m not telling you this for kicks, sweetheart. I’m telling you this so you know I’m not kidding. I haven’t felt this way for a woman since I was discharged. There has been nobody else who could melt the ice off my heart. Not until I saw you there, on my marble floor, wiping away at the stains, did I know my soul could love again.”
He looks deep in my eyes, but suddenly we’re interrupted from our conversation.
“Bordeaux?” We both look up and see the waiter, dressed in a smart black tux. He probably thinks we’re crazy seeing the two of us with our linked hands, both people on the brink of crying. But I can’t help it. I smile and laugh out loud.
“A little wine, Lacy?” says Howie.
I make a face. I haven’t really had wine before. Just cheap stuff that came in forties.
“Are you old enough, Miss?” frowns the waiter, “I’m sorry I have to ask.”
Mr. Bates snorts.
“Of course she’s twenty-one!” he says drolly. “Give us your nicest bottle.”
With that, the waiter scurries away to retrieve the wine.
“You are twenty-one, right?” asks my date.
I blush.
“Don’t tell but I’m actually only nineteen.”
Howie looks totally taken aback.
“Nineteen?”
“Yeah.”
“Christ. No wonder your pussy’s so tight!”
“Howie!”
“What, you’re suddenly so bashful? Aren’t you the girl that lost her virginity on the kitchen floor of her bosses’ penthouse- to her boss?” He winks.
“Well, he did fire me after,” I retort smartly.
We laugh and drink the fine wine together. Howie tells me stories from his wild life. It’s insane. There are tales of battles with gunshots ringing around his head, not to mention the multiple firefights he’s been in. But deep down, I’m just happy to know he is a good man. He is a sexy man, but also good. His intentions are pure. I feel so soft toward him. At dinner’s end, I simply melt onto his arm as we drive back to his penthouse in the limo. I think I could get used to this life.