WINDY CITY: The complete series

by Stone, Measha

  "No." Alex shook his head. "It isn't an option for Alyssa."

  "He has it bad." Kendrick laughed. "I remember that feeling," he said as Alex checked his phone again.

  "What feeling?" Alex asked, forcing a casual tone.

  "You've checked your phone every three minutes since you sat down. You don't know what she's up to, but you're pretty sure it's nothing you're going to like." Kendrick leaned his forearms on the table.

  "She's at work." Alex slid his phone into the back pocket of his jeans. He needed to stop obsessing. "That stupid diner."

  "Stupid diner?" Royce raised an eyebrow and gave a hearty laugh.

  "The two of you are becoming as annoying as your women when they get an idea in their heads. It's nothing."

  "Tell her to quit," Kendrick offered. "She's working at the club, right?"

  "Club?" Royce shot Kendrick a confused look before turning to Alex. "What club?" he asked when Alex's only response was to glare at Kendrick.

  "Shit. Sorry." Kendrick scratched his head. "Kelly really is wearing off on me."

  "She has a night job. I don't like it. She works nine to ten hours at the diner, then works well past midnight at the club. It's too much. She looks exhausted." Alex furrowed his brow. "She's supposed to talk to her boss about cutting her hours at the diner today, but seeing as she's avoiding her phone, I'm guessing that didn't happen."

  "Maybe it's just busy. It is Saturday, you know," Kendrick pointed out.

  "Yeah. Maybe," Alex allowed, but he didn't believe it.

  "Jess used to do the same thing to me. She'd hide from her phone to avoid having to tell me something she didn't want to tell me yet," Royce commented.

  "How'd you get her to stop?" Kendrick asked with a knowing smile. Alex had his suspicions about Royce's relationship with Jessica, but nothing had ever been confirmed. His desire to keep that section of his own life private kept him from pursuing the matter.

  "Just worked itself out," Royce said in a tight voice with a quick glance toward Alex.

  "The two of you are—"

  "I need to get going if I’m going to get to the diner in time," Alex interrupted Kendrick as he stood from the table. He pulled out his wallet and threw down enough cash to cover lunch before either man could dispute. They called out a sarcastic farewell, and he waved a carefree hand at them from the door.

  * * *

  Alex drove down the expressway toward his father's house with a silent Alyssa sitting beside him. She'd been ready to go the moment he pulled up to the diner and hopped into the car before he could put it in park. Every question about her day so far had been answered in short, casual responses.

  The radio played loudly in the car—her doing as well. He assumed to keep their conversation at a minimum.

  "Okay." He turned the radio off. "What gives?" He looked at her briefly as he signaled to exit the highway.

  "About what?"

  "You've been quiet this whole ride. Is something bothering you?"

  "No, what would be bothering me? I was at work all day. I'm worn out and starving. I hope your dad is grilling. He told me once he made the best burger in Chicago. I guess he’ll have to prove it now,” she said lightly.

  Alex tightened his grip on the wheel. His father was human, and his mother had forgiven and moved on, but Alex wasn't moving as quick in that department. He wasn't outwardly angry with his father, but there was a tender bruise on his pride for him. Although it was unrealistic, he believed his father to be infallible. And now…well, now he was proven to be human.

  "Yeah, he does," Alex agreed. "Did you talk to your boss?" he finally asked, tired of waiting for her to offer the information.

  Her body stiffened at his question, and she looked out the window. No answer was needed.

  "It was so busy," she blurted out when he took a deep breath. "I just didn't get a chance."

  "Okay." He turned down his old street. Kids played whiffle ball in the front yards, so he slowed down just in case one of them darted in front of him. He missed the carefree days of youth. No bills, no work, no girlfriend who drove you crazy one minute and made you starved with need the next.

  "I'm not lying," she said. He didn't respond as he pulled into his father's drive and parked the car. She put her phone into her bag and started to open the door when his hand on her thigh stilled her.

  “I didn’t say you were. As far as I know, you’ve never been anything but honest with me.” The words had a bite to them, but it couldn’t be helped. Clearly, she was avoiding something.

  "I didn't mean it like that." She rounded her shoulders and stuck a plastic grin to her lips. Definitely hiding something.

  “Your dad's waiting. Can we talk about it later?"

  They didn’t have time to have a full conversation anyway. There was more to this than just a work shift.

  "Okay," he conceded as he leaned over and brushed his lips over hers lightly…at first. But once his lips touched hers, he couldn’t stop until she melted into his arms and he was breathless.

  Her eyes sparkled when he pulled back. "More of that too—later?"

  "Oh, more of that, and a few other things I have planned."

  Chapter 22

  Alyssa barely made it through the front door before Paul grabbed her in a bear hug. She laughed when his arms tightened around her. Once he seemed to have his fill, he held her out to look her up and down—a habit he had taken to each time he'd seen her as a child.

  "By god, you're a beautiful woman!" he decreed after he finished his assessment. "It's been too long, Ally." His easy smile reminded her of Alex. It was obvious where Alex had gotten his good looks from.

  "Hi, Dad. Good to see you too, Dad." Alex stepped inside.

  Paul waved him off and hooked his arm through Alyssa's. "Hey there." He winked at Alyssa and dragged her through the front room toward the kitchen. She looked over her shoulder at Alex trailing behind them. His brow crinkled. He was jealous.

  She took a seat at the dining table and accepted the glass of water Paul offered her. The tray of pork chops on the counter looked delicious. Her stomach growled in anticipation.

  "Didn't you eat today?" Paul asked as he began taking plates out of the cabinets.

  "Of course I did." She looked over to Alex, who leaned against the doorjamb. "The smell is amazing, that's all," she assured them both.

  "Well, let's get to it. I started cooking a bit early, so everything is ready to go. Alex, don't hang there like a monkey, get the potato salad from the fridge."

  Alex obliged and took the seat beside Alyssa, facing his father.

  "Now. Catch me up." Paul handed her the plate of chops.

  "We just talked a few days ago." Alyssa laughed. "Nothing's happened since then. Just working." She plucked a fat pork chop from the plate.

  "Too much," Alex muttered beside her, but she ignored him.

  "Now, you're working at that club, right, at night? Any thoughts about school?" Paul scooped some potato salad onto his plate before passing the bowl.

  "Well, not yet. I still need to look into it. The apartment I rented isn't exactly five stars, so I'm going to start looking for something a bit better. Which means I'll probably end up paying more in rent, so it might be a while before I can start looking at schools." She kept her gaze down, away from both men who were undoubtedly staring at her with their own opinions on the subject.

  "What's wrong with the apartment? I thought you said it was fine." Paul held his fork in midair, a mountain of potato salad sitting on top.

  "It is."

  "Alyssa's staying with me, Dad," Alex cut in, and she clamped her mouth shut. They had to tell Paul about their relationship, but she hadn't expected him to lead with it over dinner. "Her apartment is falling apart—literally—so she's staying with me."

  Paul’s gaze settled on her, deep wrinkles forming around his eyes.

  "Oh." His lips spread into a wide knowing smile. He looked ready to burst.

  "It's not what you think," she caut
ioned him.

  "Of course not." Paul nodded.

  "Well, not entirely," Alex added, resting his hand on the back her chair.

  "I think it's fine," Paul finally said after glancing between the two of them. "You make a good pair."

  "Well—"

  "Well, nothing." Paul cut her off before she could downplay the situation. His tone was firm and familiar. Alex had taken a few lessons from his father, apparently. "Just roll with the punches," he added with a soft pat to her hand. "Now, eat up." He motioned to her untouched pork chops. "How's work?" He turned his attention to Alex.

  "Fine. Fine." Alyssa noticed the tension rise in his muscles and realized Paul didn't know about the club either. Why did he hide such a large part of his life from his father? Paul was the easiest person to talk to; she'd been doing it since she was a kid. He didn't have to give Paul the details of Top Floor, but there were three other floors that had nothing to do with kink, why not tell him? Was he forever going to be the advertising executive by day and kinky club owner by night? Meanwhile, he plagued her about her two little jobs?

  A fit of coughing interrupted their conversation as Paul pounded his chest. He waved off Alex as he stood to help him. Once Paul finished coughing, he sat back in his chair, taking deep breaths. Unshed tears from the forcefulness of the hacking sat in his eyes.

  "Dad. It's getting worse." Alex retook his seat and glared at his father. "If you don't see a doctor, I'm going to drag you there myself."

  Paul waved a hand in the air and sipped his beer. "I'm fine. Just a chest cold." He took another swig of his beer.

  Alyssa leaned over and rested her hand gently on top of his. "You sound horrible. See the doctor and get some medicine to break up that cough. What, are you scared of the doctor?" she teased.

  He tried to glower at her, but ended up chuckling instead.

  "Fine. I'll see the doctor this week." He patted her hand and looked over at Alex. "She's not as demanding as you are, son," he said before going back to his meal.

  The conversation took a normal curve, and she was glad to be sitting with such comfortable men. Paul was like a father to her, but Alex, his son, was nothing like a brother. Just sitting next to him made her warm with desire for his touch. As they sat at the table talking, Alex’s arm rested on the back of her chair, his fingers fondling her hair. There was no pressure between them, no urge to outdo the other with looks or personality. She was able to just be herself.

  "I'm sorry I didn't make it down for your mother’s funeral," Paul said solemnly. Alex's fingers stilled in her hair.

  "No, don't be sorry." Alyssa shook her head. "You had a lot going on and my mother really was the very least of your worries." She caught the tension in Alex's jaw, and added, "Besides, you two never really knew each other."

  "No, but you probably could have used the help."

  "Help? With what?" She tilted her head. "You have a life here. She was who she was. I handled it. It was fine." She patted his hand and picked up her dish, along with his and Alex's, bringing them stacked to the sink.

  "What about going back to school?" Paul said from the table.

  "We already talked about that," she reminded him as she scraped the scraps into the garbage can. She glanced at Alex, who was watching her with an amused look on his face. Did he know something she didn't?

  "Remind me what we said," Paul encouraged.

  "Remember, I told you I had to apply still, but with my new hours, I wasn't sure—" She paused as Paul began shaking his head. "No?"

  "No. What I remember is you giving a load of crap as to why you couldn't. But I also recall there being a time where you wanted to go to college and get a degree. You wanted to be…oh, what was it…a nurse?"

  "Not a nurse." She put the plates in the sink, turning away from them. "Business. I wanted to go into hotel and restaurant management." She sighed and went about clearing the rest of the table. She saw the two men share glances and braced herself.

  "Right. That was it. Why don't you do that? You can go to school and still work a bit," Paul said, stilling her hand when she grabbed the plate of leftover pork chops. "Why not?"

  "Paul." She took a deep breath. "I can't afford it, okay? It's expensive to go to school." She hated talking about money with him. If he could manage it, he'd give her what she needed and never let her pay him back. When she was little, she didn't mind the presents he mailed, the school clothes and supplies. But as she got older, she saw it for what it was: charity. So she became more and more evasive when he asked how she was doing financially, not wanting him to send her anything. Just his friendship became more than enough as she got older.

  "If money is an issue—"

  "No!" She pointed to Alex as he began to speak, and instantly regretted it when his eyes darkened. "I mean, no. You don't have to do anything. I'm fine working where I work." She grabbed the potato salad.

  "You're already staying with Alex, why not let him foot the bill on the rent and you focus on school during the day and work at night?" Paul's logical tone irritated her. The two of them thought they could fix everything by giving her things—and that was the last thing she needed.

  "It's temporary, me living with Alex." She turned from the fridge to face two scowling men. One was slightly less intimidating, but she was sure that was only due to the fact that he wouldn't turn her over his knee. "My, such big eyes you both have." She adopted a mock-terrified expression. Paul's features were the first to crack into a smile. Alex merely relaxed, but didn't find her as amusing. "Okay, I'll look into it. Really," she promised Paul while dragging her fingers over her chest. "Cross my heart."

  "I'm going to hold you to that," Alex stated firmly. "I put your bag in the front hall. Did you want to get cleaned up?"

  "Yes. Thank you. I need to get this burger grime off me. Where's the bathroom?" Alex offered to show her, and Alyssa didn't miss the grin and wink Paul gave his son as they exited the kitchen.

  Chapter 23

  "I haven’t seen your dad in five years. He looks really good." Alyssa broke the silence as they headed home.

  Alex turned the radio down. "He seemed really glad to see you too. I think I had the wrong picture in my head before of what all happened."

  "Happened?" She took a long breath. "Your father was sucked in by my mother's ability to find a drunk man down on his luck. I'm sure it was a huge shock when he told you, but you have to know he loved your mother. He never would have done anything to hurt her or you."

  "Do you remember that night? You were so young."

  "I do.” She went silent for a moment. "Your father was pretty lit. At first, he confused me for you, but I didn't realize it at the time. I’d woken up from a nightmare and went looking for my mom. When I told him my name, he sobered up real quick. He went all protective on me. I think you get that from him."

  "He told me he checked in on you every year," he prompted. This could be the opening to her past he needed. To see her world from her view, to really know her.

  "That convention of his came to town every year. The first year he stopped in, my mother thought it was to see her. She was spitting mad when he turned her down—again—and asked about me. At first, she tried to toss him out, but then she realized he'd brought me clothes. Real clothes from a real store." She paused for a moment, turning to look out the window. "She let me keep them and told him he could do what he wanted. Every year, he stopped in with a bag of clothes, and once school started, he'd mail down supplies."

  "What about your father?" He slowed his speed as they got closer to his exit.

  "I don't know him." She shrugged. "From what I could piece together through my mother's tirades, I was supposed to be her meal ticket. When she found out she was pregnant with me, she thought she'd found a way to tie him to her forever. He'd have to support her if she had his child, so she didn't tell him about me right away. She waited until it was too late to force her into an abortion. But she hadn't taken into account that he may not have wanted to be tied t
o her—or some baby. He washed his hands of her, told her it was her own doing and her own problem."

  Alex’s fingers tightened around the wheel. How could someone just walk away like that and never look back?

  "When I was in middle school, she tried to send me to him to keep me for the summer. I was so excited. Finally, I was going to meet my dad."

  Dread pulled at his heart. "She hadn't told him about you coming, had she?" he guessed.

  "No. And he turned me away. His wife was livid. I heard her yelling at him from behind the closed door. Apparently, my mother had contacted him over the years. She wasn't mad I existed. She was mad I’d shown up."

  The list of men Alex wanted to pummel to death on her behalf grew longer with her confessions. How she managed to want to be with any man after all these assholes was beyond him. She’d grown up learning she couldn’t depend on anyone.

  "Baby, I had no idea."

  "It's okay." She turned to him, a smile brightening her otherwise solemn face. "It was what it was. It could have been a lot worse," she said. "I mean, men were coming and going so often, I really could have been hurt. I see that now. I was really lucky."

  "The burn?"

  "One time. One guy. He'd been so put out by my mom having to administer some actual care for me, he'd never called her again." She straightened in her seat, her jaw set.

  "The other time?" he questioned.

  She shook her head. "Not one of my mom's boyfriends. A different guy, different situation. I'm better now. I'm good." She drew in a loud breath. "Now, I believe you said you had plans for us when we got home, and you've circled the block twice. Park. Let's go home." Her hand rested on his knee, sliding upward in his lap.

  He turned the car into the garage and sped up the ramp to his spot. He did have plans for them. He'd been able to peel one layer of her armor away, and it was time to start on the next.