CHAPTER FOUR
Lake
Khan called me as soon as I’d crawled into bed. My back and feet ached, and I’d pulled a muscle in my thigh on that damn pole. So maybe I’d been showing off for Blaze stick up his ass Harrington. Sue me. His rejection had gotten my hackles up, and I hadn’t been able to resist. I’d paid Bobby twenty dollars to let me take his place on the pole, which was a big favor on his part as he could make way more than that with a good performance.
“Work go okay?” Khan asked when I picked up.
“Made a lot of tips,” I said. “I know you’re checking up on me, and it’s not necessary.”
“It’s late. Anyone could follow you home from the club. Let us worry over you; it’s what friends do.”
“I doubt Stephen’s been waiting up for me. In fact, isn’t that him I hear snoring?”
“He knows I’m the night owl. If I woke him up and told him I couldn’t get you, he’d be the first one out of bed.”
I sighed. I hadn’t had many friends in my life, and sometimes I didn’t know what to do with their concern. But I was thankful to have them and didn’t have to be an ass.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Save us both some sleep and text me when you get home next time.”
I chuckled. He was so stubborn. “Okay. Tell Stephen thanks again for the great meal.”
“I will. Goodnight.”
I didn’t think I’d fully closed my eyes before I was dead asleep, and then suddenly my alarm was blaring a George Michael song about wanting my sex.
I moaned. How long had it been since I’d had sex? Would I even be able to do it if I got the opportunity? I was a zombie most of the time.
I dragged myself out of bed and into the shower, feeling that one of these days I wouldn’t be able to get up and do it all over again, and then where would I be?
Dead, probably.
I washed fast. I had to be at the coffee shop at eight, but first I had to deliver the newspapers. It would be nice to sleep the extra forty-five minutes, but the little bit of income the side job brought in had pulled me through more than once, and now the rent was going up I needed every penny.
God, who are you kidding? You aren’t going to be able to meet the hike, and Mrs. Lebowitz is going to throw your ass out. It’s amazing she hasn’t already contacted you about the shortage in the last two payments.
Dressed, I mixed part of a scoop from the package of coffee I got from Khan and Stephen for Christmas with the cheap stuff and ran it through my one cup machine. I sipped at it as I made my way down to the storage area in the basement and got my bicycle out of my unit. I steered the bike out the back exit door and set the cup on the brick wall before pedaling out into the street, the sack of papers slung over my shoulder.
Fortunately, my neighborhood was full of older people who hadn’t made the switch to Internet news, or I wouldn’t be able to deliver papers so close to where I lived. It wasn’t easy finding something that fit into my schedule as well as that job did. My mood soured. The way things were going, I would have to start working a shift in the middle of the night baking bread or something and give up sleep altogether because God knew that was the only time of day I had left to give.
Fuck, I couldn’t forget Blaze Harrington’s horrified look when his friend had suggested I give him a lap dance. Maybe he really was straight, but did he have to be such an ass about it? What was he doing in a gay club anyway?
Or maybe he just isn’t into you.
I cursed while slinging papers. It would have been the first lap dance I’d ever wanted to give.
When I returned to my building, the sun was just peaking over the horizon. Of course someone had stolen my coffee cup off the brick wall. Lousy neighborhood. I put my bike away and climbed the stairs. I used to ride it to the coffee shop until I walked outside on my break one day and discovered someone trying to pick the lock. I couldn’t afford to lose my bike; it was the only free transportation I had. Remembering so many mornings being driven to school in the Mercedes by the family chauffeur, it was kind of crazy to realize how much my life had changed in the last several years.
I faltered when I saw Ron standing outside his door.
“Lose something?” He held up my coffee cup.
“You following me around now?” I didn’t reach for the cup, just hurriedly unlocked my door. He could keep the damn thing.
“Why would I do that? The way you look me up and down is disgusting,” Ron managed to get out before I slammed the door in his face.
When I was ready to leave for the coffee shop, I took the fire escape, almost twisting my ankle when I hopped down the last eight feet or so. Fuck, that’d be all I needed.
The subway was packed with the usual half-asleep people you find at seven-thirty in the morning. I squeezed in at the end of a bench next to a woman who was scrolling through her phone. Across from me, a large, heavily tattooed man stared at me with stone-cold eyes. I refused to acknowledge him, as I knew from experience doing so would get me unwanted attention one way or another.
Mine was the second stop, and I hurried off the car and raced up the cement stairs, strains of guitar music from the guy playing for money in his regular spot drifting after me, and out into the early sunshine. I was a little early, so I set a leisurely pace, strolling past shops and peering through windows of stores. My stomach growled. Maybe I could nick a muffin out of the case at work when no one was looking—I was desperate enough. If Tara was there, I probably could, but if it was Michelle, I’d be out of luck. The bitch watched us all like a fucking hawk.
I was in luck; Tara was there and having an intense conversation on the phone. I quickly grabbed a blueberry muffin and shoved it in my apron pocket. During the morning rush, I picked off pieces and ate them as I worked.
At the first slow moment, I slipped out my phone from my pocket and looked at my messages while Carl stepped outside for a smoke and Tara made a call. Looked like she was fighting with her boyfriend again.
The first text I opened was one from Julianne saying she didn’t need me that afternoon. Fuck. I really needed the money.
A message from Khan had a dozen clapping hands and happy face emojis before the words Guess what?
I started to reply, but another message appeared before I could.
Khan: Stephen’s taking me on a cruise for our anniversary!
Me: Cool! Where?
Khan: ALASKA! A week!
Me: Wow, you must be good in bed. When are you leaving?
Khan: Ha ha. I am, and Friday. I can’t wait.
The jingling bell over the door announced a customer walking into the shop. I tapped a quick goodbye to Khan and waited on the girl.
“You look tired,” Tara said after the customer had left.
I rubbed my eyes with my fingertips. “That’s because I am.”
“Not getting enough sleep?”
“Three or four hours a night. Five if I’m lucky.”
Tara’s carefully brushed and tinted brows shot up. “What? That’s not enough!”
“Tell me about it,” I muttered as another customer approached the counter.
“You can’t keep this up. You’ll make yourself sick,” Tara said.
I knocked on the wooden counter. I didn’t need the bad mojo.
At my lunch break, I grabbed my bag from the refrigerator in the breakroom and walked outside to sit at one of the iron tables. I ate my peanut butter and jelly sandwich, watching people walk by on their way to the strip mall across the parking lot and trying to guess what kind of lives they led. The sun was warm on my face, but every so often the bitter wind would take my breath away, and I’d hunker down in my peacoat. When I’d finished, I threw away my trash and leaned back in the chair, closing my eyes and enjoying the moment of quiet.
“Lake Adams? Is that you?”
Shit.
“I’m afraid you have the wrong person,” I muttered then opened one eye. Sara Bradshaw, someone I’d gone to school with my entire life but hadn’t ever really gotten to know, laughed and plunked down into the chair next to me. With a sigh, I sat up.
“What’re you doing in this part of the city? I haven’t seen you in ages,” Sara gushed.
I resigned myself to the inevitable conversation. My parents hadn’t spread the word they’d put me out on the street. If they had, they would’ve had to explain why, and that was something I knew they didn’t want to do. But I wasn’t going to lie for them, and I’d learned over the past few years to just get it out and over with when asked.
“Hadn’t you heard?” I asked, putting on a show. “Mummy and Daddy kicked my perky ass out of the mansion.”
“Oh my God!” Sara covered her mouth with her hand, and her dark eyes went round. “That’s…awful, Lake, I’m so sorry.”
Not what I’d expected. The usual reaction was an inaudible reply and a beeline for the closest exit.
“I’d wondered what happened to you after graduation. I know the rumors about you weren’t true.”
I was ashamed that I looked away first.
Sara was a slip of a girl—almost a foot shorter than I with bird-like features and a mass of curly red hair surrounding her freckled face. She wore APO jeans under a tweed Chanel coat. I was suddenly very aware of the ripped Levis I wore.
I stood. “Well, it was nice chatting with you, but my break’s over.”
“You work here?” Sara asked, eyes growing even bigger. I was beginning to think I preferred the disdain I usually got to her wide-eyed, pitying surprise.
“Yep.” I turned and walked into the coffee shop.
“Mariah’s puking in the john,” Tara said when I’d put my apron back on and joined her behind the counter. Mariah appeared a moment later from the back room looking green.
“I can take your shift,” I said.
“Oh my God, that would be great. Are you sure?” Mariah was already putting her purse strap over her shoulder and heading toward the door.
“It’s fine. I could use the money.”
“You’re the best.” With a jangle of bells, Mariah left the shop, and I got back to work. I wouldn’t make as much as I would have working for Julianne, but it was better than nothing.
When I turned around, I found Sara standing at the counter.
“I thought a coffee would be nice,” she said.
I sighed and took her order. When I delivered it to her table in a painted china cup, she smiled up at me.
“I’m glad to see you again, Lake. You know, when we were in junior high, I had the biggest crush on you.”
That was a surprise. “You did?”
Sara nodded. “Of course. You were the cutest boy in school.”
I looked over my shoulder. Since the shop was pretty dead, I thought I could afford a few minutes to talk to her.
“But you must have known I was gay.” I swore if that statement brought wide-eyed shock, I was out of there.
“Oh, yeah. I knew. But a girl could dream.”
I felt my cheeks warming. I guessed Sara wasn’t so bad.
“What have you been up to the past few years?” I asked.
Sara put down her cup. “Well, I got married.”
“Congratulations.”
“You can save those. He was a jerk. But nobody would know that better than you. Barry Rimes?”
My heart skipped several beats, and not in a good way. I thought I managed to nod, because she continued.
“Yeah, well. I was stupid. He’d been such a gentleman in high school, and I’m sorry to say I believed everything he said back then—except about you. I knew that wasn’t true. I never should have married him, but I was naive. Not to mention pregnant.”
My eyes jerked to meet hers. “You had a baby with Barry?”
Sara nodded. “A boy. Little Barry. That’s something else I regret, naming our son after him. I call him B. He goes to the daycare across the street. I’m waiting until naptime’s over to pick him up. I can’t believe I’ve never come in here before and seen you.” She glanced at her watch and then back at me. “Hey, are you okay? You look kind of pale.”
When I didn’t say anything, she leaned forward and whispered, “Did he hit you too?”
My eyes shot to hers. “He hit you?”
She nodded. “More than once. That’s why I finally left him. I was afraid he’d hurt B.”
I licked my dry lips. “I’m glad you did.”
She smiled ruefully. “Wish my parents had been as understanding. They didn’t want me to divorce him, even after I told them about the abuse. They said they’d disown me if I did.” She shrugged. “Fuck them. I have my own cosmetic company now. I’m making a bundle.”
“Good for you,” I said, meaning it.
Sara smiled, showing her set of perfect teeth. I remembered that she’d worn braces for years.
She looked at her watch and then finished her coffee. “I’ve got to pick up B and take him to a birthday party. I’ll come by sometime with him.”
“That’d be great. I’d like to meet him.” I wasn’t lying.
I watched her go, and when I turned to clear the table, I saw she’d left me a generous tip.
Barry Rimes. She’d married that jerk.
***
It was almost six-thirty when I finally arrived at my apartment.I was scheduled to work at the Banana until midnight, so I showered then gazed into the nearly bare refrigerator for something to eat. Looked like it was a choice between moldy cheese and a mushy plum. I cut the mold off the cheese and ate it on my way to the subway, thinking some days it felt like I spent half my life riding the smelly thing.
Wedged between a very large woman and an old man who kept up a constant, phlegm-filled cough, I let my mind wander to my meeting with Sara Bradshaw. She’d been nice—so different from most of the kids I’d gone to school with. They’d all been self-entitled brats—I had too. I still had a sharp tongue, but life had shown me what it could throw at a person. My attitude was a defense mechanism. Well, look at me—all grown up and self aware.
Realizing I was about to miss my stop, I scooted past the woman beside me. Fifteen minutes later, I was in my outfit and waiting tables at The Yellow Banana.
The evening went by in a blur. The place was packed, and it was all I could do to deliver correct orders while avoiding the grabby hands of drunken patrons. I had several requests for lap dances. The management let us decide whether or not we wanted to oblige a customer that way, so it was entirely up to me. Cringing inside, I reminded myself how badly I needed the money, and that the customers weren’t allowed to touch me, and accepted two.
The first was to a beefy mountain of a guy who looked like he was barely holding back from taking hold of me and spearing me on his cock. I kept my eyes on him the entire time, afraid he’d put his hands on me, but he didn’t. The second was to a man who was old enough to be my grandfather. The way he wheezed as I wiggled over him had me worried I was going to have to call for emergency medical assistance. I got through it and tucked the money safely away, but the whole thing had left me feeling unsteady for some reason. I’d stopped trying to figure it out a long time ago.
A fight broke out near closing time, and the management called the police. All the staff had to stay and answer questions and then help clean up. By the time I left, I was exhausted. It was all I could do to keep myself from hailing a cab home. I pinched my thigh and bit the inside of my cheek to the point of pain to keep from falling asleep on the subway because doing that in New York City could be detrimental to your health. By the time I put my key in the lock, I was dead on my feet. I prayed Ron’s door wouldn’t open because I knew in my fragile state I’d burst into tears at the first word out of the fat-head’s mouth. Luckily, I made it inside without seeing him. The knowledge I had to get up in a few hours to deliver newspapers had me whimpering as I tumbled into bed.