Chapter 29
“You sure you only want one portion of each?”
“How much do you think I can eat?”
Xavier placed the order at the fancy bar he’d practically begged her to come to.
They were sitting outside on the rooftop terrace of this swanky place, she’d never heard of. It had big leather couches, and seats with soft cushions, and yellow lamps and rich red curtains. It felt as if she was in some exotic faraway place, not at the top of a bar in New York. And the people here, those rich, snobby types, not like the people she’d met at Shoemoney’s house. These were young and hip and trendy.
Cara would be pea green with envy when Izzy told her.
They were both supposed to have gone out tonight, but after her mother called earlier, complaining about her father and how his ‘moods were worse than ever.’ Izzy had lost the heart to do anything. Cara had gone out without her and Izzy had stayed at home.
She dreaded those phone calls from home because they usually signaled bad news, or oftentimes, her mother just wanted to offload. Winter time wasn’t a good time for her father. It made things worse and some days he couldn’t get out of bed. But they needed him to. Her mother’s job at the local supermarket only went so far. Sometimes Izzy wished she and Owen could fast forward a few years, so that they could help, in any way, so their father could stop working.
Xavier’s subsequent call had been a lifebuoy in an otherwise miserable sea of an evening and here she was, an hour later, taking him up on his offer to go out and celebrate.
“So you managed to impress your investor?” she asked, trying not to notice the people around her. She felt scruffy in her coat and jeans surrounded by sharply dressed guys, and the scantily dressed women.
“Your report helped.”
“You would have got it regardless.”
“I’m sure I would have.”
She looked at him. Cheeky, cocky, arrogant.
“But your report helped, Laronde. Maybe I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“Nice place, this.” She said, not wanting to get sucked in by his compliments. She’d almost died when she’d seen the prices on the menu. Drinks here cost double the price of a dinner at the types of establishments she and Cara hung out at.
How the other side lived.
It was like sitting in a faraway exotic land, not in a rooftop restaurant. With three weeks to go before Christmas, New York was setting in for a cold spell. Before her, Manhattan twinkled like a thousand different colors with fairy lights.
“Recognize him?” Xavier nodded towards the tall figure of the guy, jeans, tight fitting black top. She stared at him for the longest time and it was only when he ran his hands through his hair, when he half turned so that she saw his side profile, that she remembered it was the bartender from the wedding.
He turned at the same time and looked at Xavier, and there was something complicit in their unspoken exchange, but she couldn’t be certain. She wasn’t sure if she was being paranoid.
He walked over to them. “Hey” he said, holding out his hand which Xavier shook firmly. The other guy touched his finger to his head, as if he was trying to remember something, then extended his hand to her.
“Izzy, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” she said, shaking his hand. “Hi, and yes. I remember you. It’s Luke, isn’t it?”“
“That’s right. Nice to see you again.”
“Xavier says you own this place.”
“I do.
“It’s gorgeous.”
“Thank you.”
“You never let on that you owned a bar in New York. I thought you were just a bartender.”
“You’re not the only one.”
He turned to Xavier. “Have you guys ordered?”
“Yes. We’re being looked after.”
“Good. This is a surprise, you turning up like this.”
She wasn’t sure about what he meant and pushed away her feelings of paranoia, putting it down to some strange code language between the guys. A server appeared, and set down their food and drink from a tray.
“We’re celebrating. I got the funding I needed,” Xavier explained.
“Cool.” Luke nodded in acknowledgement.
“Izzy helped secure the deal, so we’re celebrating.”
Luke glanced at her. “It’s about time, too,” he said to Xavier, and for a moment it looked as if he was about to say something, when a passing customer tapped him on the shoulder. “Enjoy your evening,” he said, then, “Excuse me,” and strode away.
“What was all that about?” she asked.
“All what about?”
“Izzy helped secure the funding,” she echoed. She couldn’t put her finger on it right now, but something didn’t feel right. She picked up on something, but couldn’t define what that something was.
Or maybe, as Cara had mentioned to her recently, she needed to let go of her mistrust of wealthy men. “If he was a down-on-his-luck guitarist, or a poor student, you’d probably give him a chance.”
What did Cara know?
“But your part helped,” he insisted.
She picked up an asparagus in tempura and dipped it into the small pot of relish, before biting it. “Are you not having any?”
He shook his head. “You go ahead.”
“Green veg not your thing?”
“Still not my thing.”
“This is a cool place,” she said. “Thanks for bringing me here.”
“You’re welcome.”
“And congratulations.” She lifted her virgin cocktail. “Here’s to getting your investment.”
He lifted his beer bottle and knocked the top of it with her glass. “And to your extra hours, hopefully.”
“Hopefully?” He’d made it sound as if it was a done deal.
“I need to get the business up and running, first. It can take a while, but I’ll have some hours for you, it might not be 20 straight away. And, don’t get your hopes up because nothing’s going to happen this month. We’re looking at some time in the new year, maybe.”
He’d made it sound as if she could have those hours straight away. She should have known better than to believe Xavier’s bullshit.
The college would be closing next week, and then she’d be going home for Christmas. She had promises of work—the extra hours with Xavier, and maybe with Savannah, but it was all up in the air. She didn’t like uncertainty.
“Just let me know, as soon as it’s a sure thing.”
“I don’t want it to get in the way of your studies.”
“As if I’d let your work get in the way of my studies,” she retorted.
“I’m only trying to help you, Laronde.” His expression suddenly turned somber. “Anything could change. Nothing is set in stone. This is a new guy I’m going into business with, and I don’t know much about him, except that he has the resources I need. I was only trying to find a way to help you, if this contract pans out.”
“Okay,” she said, feeling sheepish. “I understand. I didn’t mean to be so mouthy.”
“I noticed you can’t help it sometimes.”
“You bring out the warrior in me.” She shrugged. “We seem to have this hate-hate thing going, I guess.”
But lately he hadn’t been a total jerk most of the time. Sure, he’d been a douchebag last week when she’d turned up and told him his MacBook had been stolen, but in hindsight, she’d lost everything—the USB stick included, and she hadn’t backed anything up, and his meeting had been the next day, she understood.
“I must admit, it’s not a reaction I bring out in most women.” His eyebrow lifted slightly, and she couldn’t bring herself to look away, taking in his features, noticing how attractive his dark hair and big blue eyes were. “I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve this.”
He was trying so hard, and it wasn’t fair that her mother’s phone call earlier had soured things for her, the way it always did. “It’s not you,” she said, slowly, letting a feeling of empathy guide her. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come out tonight.”
“But you’re out now.” He peered at her closer. “Is something wrong? Have I done or said something to offend you again?”
She shook her head. “No.” But the way she said it, didn’t sound convincing.
“You’re upset about something, Laronde. I can tell, over and above your usual disdain for me, you’re got something else on your mind.”
Since when had they crossed the line into this?
She couldn’t think of what to say, and maybe laughing it off first would have deflected his concern. But it was too late. “It’s nothing,” she waved her hand dismissively.
“Maybe you should take a risk and try me.”
It was embarrassing, and she didn’t want to. What would this rich boy understand of her problems? “It’s really nothing.” She smiled at him.
“Izzy.” His voice was low, and enticing, and tempting. It was enough to make her want to lose the heaviness from her chest, enough for her to be tempted to share her worries.
“It’s really nothing … “
“It’s really nothing?” he repeated, leaning forward on the table, as if he was all ears.
She let out a heavy, heavy breath. Stared at her fingers on the table. Didn’t meet his gaze. “My mom called earlier, and,” she shook her head, wondering why she was telling him. Xavier Stone would never understand.
“Your mom called and …?”
She gazed at him, tried to find something in his face—a shadow of arrogance, a veil of cockiness, something, anything, of his former self that would hinder her from spilling all. But his face was impassive, and his attention was all on her. “Is your mom okay?” he asked.
“She’s fine. She’s not the problem. It’s my dad. He’s in one of his moods.”
The look on his face told her that he automatically assumed the worst.
“It’s nothing like that,” she said quickly, in case he thought her dad had beaten up her mom, or trashed the house or done something insane. “He’s not a drinker, and he doesn’t … he’s not abusive. They’re still sort of happily married.”
“Sort of?”
“I don’t really like talking about it. He gets down about things, like in a really bad can’t-get-out-of-bed way.”
“Is he always like that?”
She shook her head. “Just sometimes.” And she was sick of carrying the burden of it all.
“Why sometimes?” he asked, gently.
She shrugged. “Sometimes he just wakes up in a bad mood.”
“Why’s that?”
“It’s all to do with what happened years ago. I think he’s angry with himself. I think he blames himself for being a failure.”
“A failure?”
And so she told him, in a vague way, of how he’d once had a thriving business but everything went downhill when it failed. Their house had been foreclosed on when her father had run out of money because he’d tried to pay his employees’ wages.
“Why did it fail?” he asked, his voice low.
She shrugged. “Just.”
He was quiet for a few moments after, and looked at her as if he had many questions to ask her, but he didn’t, except to say, “And so he gets down about it, from time to time?”
“Yes.”
“I’m so sorry, Izzy. That can’t be easy on you, especially with you being so far away.”
She shrugged. “It does. It sucks big time.”
“What does he do now?”
“He had to take on a normal job. He wanted to put food on the table, and keep a roof over our heads, and he did, he does. But the personal pain has been too much. He has bad days. Off days.”
“And that’s why you don’t take anything from them?”
“That’s why I promised myself I’d put myself through college, and not take a dime from them.”
“I can see that about you.”
“And I need to do well in my exams this year because I want to get one of those internships with a big company.”
“I’m sure you’ll do just fine, but if you don’t, I could always put you in charge of one of my small businesses.”
Her eyes opened wider. He would do that for her?
“I don’t have a big corporation like Tobias does, no fancy building or management structure to speak of. I’m very entrepreneurial, and I like to outsource and make the most of this digital revolution, but hell, yes, if you ever want to get dirty and jump into a business where you have to make your own rules as you go along, I’d be happy to offer you something.”
“I’ll bear that in mind.”