Chapter Eight
Payton
I woke up the next morning with the sun streaming in through the open window and realized that I hadn’t closed the curtains before I fell asleep the night before. The warm rays felt good, so I threw off the covers and stretched out on the bed, soaking them up as I recalled the previous night.
Dax Connor was definitely a person of interest, but I wasn’t sure if he was one of those guys whose fragile egos could handle a little challenge. I wanted to see him again. Actually, I wanted to do more than just see him, but seeing him would be a good start.
My phone rang as I was pulling on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. On the other end was my lifelong best friend, Val Hanna, who said she was on her way with coffee and bagels, and that she would be there in ten minutes. When she arrived, I buzzed her up and left the front door propped open. It was a habit that Val scolded me for every time she visited.
“Jesus, PG-13! If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a hundred times not to leave your door open!” Val scolded as she breezed through the door arms full of coffee cups and a bag full of bagels and spreads. She used the nickname she’d cleverly come up back when we were in 7th grade because she knew I would be annoyed.
“And as I’ve told you a thousand times, there’s nothing to worry about in this building,” I grumbled, leaning in and kissing her cheek as I took the bag and went into the kitchen to unload it on a tray I’d set up.
“There is always something to worry about, girl,” Val called from the living room. When I emerged with the tray, she looked me up and down and said, “You look rough. What happened last night?”
“Gosh, thanks, friend,” I laughed as I set the tray down on the glass coffee table and accepted a cup of coffee from her before curling up in one corner of my large, L-shaped sofa. Dressed to the nines in a flowing Gucci top and tight, black jeans paired with black, gladiator Louboutin sandals, Val perched on the edge of one of the square leather chairs across the room and eyed me suspiciously.
“I’m serious; spill it,” she said, settling back as she sipped her coffee, looking like the epitome of the Chicago socialite.
Born and raised on the South Side, Val had clawed her way up from an impoverished beginning. She spent the first five years of her life being shuttled from relative to relative before the state finally put Val and her siblings in foster care. Val was whip smart, and had attended the same private schools as I had, but on scholarship. Despite her brains, Val had never been driven to do more than the minimum necessary to maintain a respectable B average. Val was a hustler and she did exactly what she needed to in order to slowly but surely move herself up the ranks in school, but never attracted more attention than necessary.
She and I roomed together at Northwestern where she earned her degree in English literature and spent most weekends in the city without me. She would come back at the end of the weekend full of tales of adventures she’d had, but I always suspected that a large portion of the stories was edited out. Several times over the course of our friendship, I’d asked her why she didn’t want to do or achieve more, and she’d patiently explained that maintaining mediocrity meant that no one put unreasonable demands or expectations on her, and that any kind of achievement was then celebrated. As she’d gotten older and revealed her true intentions, her logic had made more sense to me.
“My mother issued an ultimatum and I went out drinking afterwards,” I shrugged.
“What the hell?” she said sitting up a little straighter as she shot me a questioning look. “What bug’s crawled up Joanna’s ass now?”
“She told me I have a month to find a suitable husband and get to work planning a wedding and then popping out heirs to the Halas throne,” I sighed, sinking into the taupe, microfiber embrace of my couch. I sipped the hot, dark coffee as I looked to Val for sympathy. When she said nothing, I continued, “She said it’s either that or I’m going to lose my inheritance and all support. Including this apartment.”
“So, get to work, babe!” Val said enthusiastically. “Hustle, hustle, hustle!”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I replied.
“I’m talking about just buckling down and getting the job done,” Val said in the tone she used when she was trying to explain something simple to someone who wasn’t bright enough to understand it.
“But I don’t have anyone I want to marry,” I said dumbly. “And I’m not going to peruse the list of potential suitors my mother has created. I’m not a child bride being sold to the highest bidder!”
“Oh Lord, do stop the damn dramatics, PG,” Val said, rolling her eyes even more dramatically. “Just run a finger down the list and pick the richest one and get it over with, for God’s sake!”
“What is wrong with you?” I said, pushing myself up off the couch and slamming my cup on the table before I began pacing the room. “I thought you’d be on my side! You’re my best friend!”
“Look, the way I see it is that you do what you need to do to get what your mother is asking and then you go back to living your life the way you want to,” she shrugged. Val leaned forward and took a bagel off the tray and spread some cream cheese on it before she looked up at me again. “What did you want me to say? Oh, poor Payton, she is being made to do something she doesn’t want to do? Boo hoo.”
“You’re such a bitch,” I hissed as the tears welled up. “This is absolutely unfair, and you know it.”
“Payton, you’re letting your privilege and emotions rule you again,” Val said calmly. “I’m not against you at all. In fact, I’m one hundred percent on your side. I just think that the path of least resistance is going to get you what you want a hell of a lot quicker than your high and mighty climb over the wall.”
“I have known you for half my life and I still do not even begin to understand you,” I said, shaking my head in frustration. “How on earth can giving into my mother’s unreasonable demand make my life easier?”
“You find a guy who fits her requirements and you negotiate with him,” Val said before she took a huge bit of the bagel and chewed. I waited for her to swallow and finish her thoughts. “You tell him what you want and you tell him what you’ll give him in return. It’s Business 101 stuff, really.”
“But we’re talking about marriage!” I cried.
“Oh Christ, PG, let go of that Victorian romance bullshit you think is real life,” she sighed. “We’re living in the 21st century, and women like you and I are definitely not the norm. We don’t have the luxury of falling in love and all that crap that other people buy into.”
“But you’re engaged!” I protested. “Don’t you love Richard?”
“Yeah, engaged to Sir Richard Spencer, a distant cousin to the Queen, power, prestige, intrigue, money,” she said rolling her eyes. “It’s not a love match, if that’s what you’re getting at. We negotiated.”
“Val! How could you?”
“I did it because I don’t have a family fortune to fall back on, darling,” she said matter-of-factly. “So, I found a guy that I can live with and I told him what I want and told him to tell me what he wanted. It turns out that he needs a wife who will not interfere with his desire to race horses and travel to distant lands. I have no problem with his business and he has no problem with mine; that’s why we’re getting married next spring, but you already know that.”
“You’re mercenary, you know that, don’t you?” I said, staring at her from across the room.
“No, I’m pragmatic,” she replied. “And I think it’s about time you were, too. Look, I want stability and security, PG. I need someone I can count on to do what he says he’s going to do, and if falling in love isn’t part of that, well, then I’ll accept it and move on.”
“But I don’t want to get married to some man just so I can do what I want without being bothered,” I said helplessly. “I want to have my career on my own terms.”
“You’ve always been way too idealistic,” Val said as she put the bagel down and stood up. In her heels, she towered over me and as I looked up into my friend’s piercing, green eyes, I realized she was trying to help me and I burst into tears. Val wrapped her arms around me and rocked me gently as she rubbed my back saying, “There, there. It’s all going to be all right.”
When I’d let out all of my frustrated tears, I wiped my eyes and stepped back. Val put her hands on her hips and tilted her head as she smiled and asked, “Feeling better now?”
“Yeah, but I still don’t want to get married,” I said glumly.
“No one really does, dear,” she said. “But it’s what you’re going to do, so let’s get the list from your mother and get to work vetting the field, shall we?”
“You’re crazy, you know that, right?” I laughed as I looked up at my friend.
“Crazy as a fox!” she said with a knowing smile.
“Fine, I’ll get the list and you can help me figure out who might be good candidates,” I said. “Better yet, why don’t you ask my mother for the list? That way she’ll think I’m totally on board rather than reluctantly being dragged to my doom.”
“Good God, the drama,” Val said rolling her eyes again. “Fine, I’ll call and see if Joanna will chat with me.”
“She’ll love that,” I said rolling my eyes back at her and making her laugh. Val’s phone began beeping and she walked over to her purse and fished it out.
“Crap, I need to get going,” she said. “I’ve got a fitting at Saks in a half an hour. Wanna go with me?”
“No, I need to get a few things done today,” I said reluctantly begging off the fitting. “But what about later this week?”
“We’ll do dinner,” she smiled as she gathered her things and headed for the door. As she opened it, she turned and said, “And don’t spend all day moping around this apartment, eating leftover bagels, you hear me?”
“I wouldn’t dream of it!” I laughed as she disappeared through the open door, firmly shutting it behind her.
I stood leaning against the door as I thought about what Val had said. I understood what she was advocating, but in my heart of hearts, I just couldn’t go down that road. I wanted the life I wanted on my terms, not the terms that my mother had set, but I had a feeling that all of this was going to become more difficult the longer I resisted. In that sense, my mother and I were cut from the same, stubborn cloth, and I knew that neither one of us was likely to cave.
#
I had a stressful couple of days after I talked with Val. I’d been mining my contacts, trying to find a lead on a job and was in the kitchen scrubbing the stainless-steel sink as a means of trying to control my anxiety when my phone rang. I grabbed it and looked at the screen to find that it was a Chicago number I didn’t recognize.
“Hello?” I answered.
“Well, hello,” a man’s voice replied. “I wasn’t expecting you to pick up the phone.”
“Then why did you call?” I asked, irritated that I didn’t recognize who it was.
“I was hoping that I’d get your voicemail and would be able to leave a proper message,” he said.
“Then I’ll hang up and you can try again,” I shot back. “Who is this anyway?”
“See, this was part of the reason I wanted to be able to leave a message,” he said. “I could tell you who I am and then you could decide whether you wanted to call back or not. Now it’s just awkward.”
“Who is this?” I repeated growing more irritated as the joker on the other end continued.
“Please tell me that you remember having a conversation with me in the lady’s room at the Black Jack a few nights ago,” he said.
“Dax Connor,” I said flatly, feeling the heat rising in my cheeks as I remembered all too well the way I’d drunkenly grabbed and kissed him in the bathroom.
“Funny, I thought you’d be a little more excited to hear from me,” he said dryly.
“Oh, I’m glad to hear from you,” I replied. “I’m just not sure what I’m supposed to say right now. I’m sorry?”
“Don’t be sorry,” he said helpfully. “I mean, I wasn’t exactly clawing at the door to get out, now was I?”
“No, you certainly weren’t,” I replied dryly.
“In fact, if Jack hadn’t been acting as your guard dog, I’m not entirely sure that I would have stopped you at all,” he offered.
“Good to know,” I replied without elaborating. I was annoyed that he hadn’t called sooner. It felt like he was playing a game with me and I didn’t like that I didn’t know what it was. “What do you want?”
“Yes, to the point, that’s good,” he chuckled. “Well, I’m calling to ask you out on a date, but by the tone of your voice, that may not be a good thing for me to do right now.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re obviously irritated and I don’t want to risk you saying no,” he said honestly. Something about the way he said it made me smile.
“You’re quite blunt,” I said.
“Then that makes two of us,” he replied. “I like that about you, Payton Halas Lasky.”
“So you figured it all out, did you?” I asked. “Who I am, where I live, what my phone number is.”
“Well, I know two of the three, so I’m sure I could figure out the third without a whole lot of trouble,” he said. “But I’d rather have you tell me. It’s less stalker-ish, you know?”
“You are hilarious, Dax Connor,” I said chuckling. “If the purpose of your call is to ask me out, then why don’t you ask and we’ll see how it goes?”
“You sure that’s a good idea?”
“Pretty sure. Just ask, jackass,” I urged him.
“Oh, now you’re insulting me? I’m not sure how I feel about that,” he said in a tone of mock disapproval.
“You’ll get over it; just ask!” I laughed lightly. He was being ridiculous, but it amused me.
“I’m not sure I want to now,” he pouted.
“Wimp,” I teased as the laughter bubbled up in the back of my throat.
“Meanie,” he shot back. “Fine, I’ll ask, but if you say no, I want you to know that I’m going to go throw myself in front of the Blue Line. Let that be on your head.”
“Do you always use emotional blackmail to get dates?” I asked.
“Only as an absolute last resort,” he said which made me laugh. “You are so incredibly good for my ego, you know?”
“Just get it over with and ask!” I shouted as I wrapped one arm around my middle, trying to contain my laughter.
“Fine, here goes,” he said taking a dramatically deep breath. “Payton, would you like to go to dinner with me tonight?”
I waited a few seconds and then replied, “No.”
I heard a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the phone before I said, “I wouldn’t like to, I’d love to!”
“Oh wow, way to give a guy a heart attack, lady,” Dax said as I heard him exhale loudly. “Talk about mean.”
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist,” I laughed and heard him chuckle quietly.
“That’s what she said,” he replied in a teenage-boy tone that caused me to laugh. “Are you going to laugh at me like this through the whole date? I don’t mind; I just want to know so I’m prepared.”
“No! No!” I laughed trying to catch my breath. “I’m not going to laugh at you, but you’re so funny I can’t help it!”
“Yeah, well, looks aren’t everything,” he said quietly.
“Stop it! Stop it! You’re killing me, Smalls!” I cried and then laughed so hard I couldn’t catch my breath.
“Ah, a sports movie fan, too,” he said. “This ought to be fun.”
“Okay, okay, I’m getting control of myself now,” I said, taking a deep breath and trying to regain my composure. “Where should I meet you?”
“I thought I’d come pick you up, like a real date,” he said. “But if you don’t want me to, then that’s okay.”
“No, that’s fine,” I replied. “I haven’t been on a date in a while, if you can’t tell.”
“Yeah, well, that makes two of us, then,” he said and I could hear the smile in his voice. “How about if I pick you up at seven on Friday. We’ll go somewhere casual and get to know each other better.”
“More casual than the bathroom at Black Jack or less casual?” I teased.
“Definitely less casual,” he said seriously. “I’m thinking maybe Girl and the Goat or perhaps The Publican?”
“Either one sounds lovely,” I said, trying to regain a modicum of seriousness.
“I’ll make reservations at both and then we’ll decide when I pick you up,” he said. “But you need to give me your address.”
“Oh right!” I said startled by his ability to remain composed. I gave him the address and said I’d see him at seven. I hung up the phone wondering what I was getting myself into. I decided to do a little sleuthing myself, so went into my office and fired up my computer.
An hour, and numerous Google searches, later, I found myself wishing I hadn’t, but it was too late to back out.