by Ali Parker
“Drive,” I finally said.
“What the hell happened?” he demanded.
“She’s gone,” I snapped. “I don’t know where. She booked a flight, and she’s gone.”
“Are you serious?”
My voice was useless. I was too upset to speak, too upset to think. So, I just nodded and turned away from my best friend. His eyes stayed on me for another second before he finally turned the key and made the engine roar to life.
We moved steadily back through the city without a word. Kason pulled up to my place and threw the car in park.
“Thanks for the ride.” I was already pushing open the door.
“Wait.” Kason grabbed my arm. “Call her, man. She’s probably not on the plane yet.”
“I tried that,” I said. “She didn’t answer.”
“Try again.”
Kason’s eyes held so much hope that I couldn’t deny him. Sighing, I pulled out my phone and tried to call her.
Her phone went to voice mail on the third ring. Next, it didn’t even make it past one.
“She doesn’t want to talk to me,” I said, defeated.
“Don’t give up,” Kason said. “It’ll work out, Ry.”
“I hope to hell you’re right.”
With that, I got to my feet and made my way to my front door. For the first time in almost five years, I was glad to be away from Paisley. I couldn’t imagine explaining all of this to my daughter.
Chapter 62
Candice
My boarding pass shook in my hand as I moved slowly through security. It was almost two in the morning, but I’d booked myself on the last flight out of JFK. I’d be in the air, speeding toward Seattle before the clock struck three.
The security line was practically empty, but that didn’t stop the TSA agents from taking their sweet time to let us through. When I finally made it up to the conveyor belt, I slipped off my high-heels and tossed them into a bucket. My purse and boarding pass followed close behind.
That was everything I brought with me. Just the essentials. I was still wearing my evening gown as I stepped through the metal detector and held my arms up. A tired looking woman waved a wand over my body and then jerked her head for me to move on.
I put my shoes back on my feet and clutched my purse tightly in my hands.
Moving through the airport, I quickly found my gate and saw that the flight had been delayed. It was already the last flight out, so I knew I didn’t have any choice but to wait.
Feeling worse than ever, I found a bar and hopped onto the first barstool I reached.
“Almost last call,” the bartender said, setting a napkin down in front of me. “Better order fast.”
“Vodka,” I said. “On the rocks.”
“Bad night?”
“You could say that.”
The bartender nodded and moved to pour my drink. He left me alone with my thoughts for a few minutes while he wiped the counter around me. My eyes kept darting around the bar, worried that I might be recognized.
My fears were unfounded, of course. No one I knew would be at the airport at this time of night. Everyone had left the banquet happy and slightly tipsy. Only I was pathetic enough to skip town just because a man had hurt me.
Again.
Ryan’s face filled my mind, and my eyes fell closed. A knot formed in my throat, and the little bit of vodka I’d already swallowed began to rise back into my mouth. I swallowed hard and chased it with even more alcohol, keeping my eyes closed and my jaw set.
“You okay?”
The bartender was back. He flipped the rag in his hand and smiled at me with a mixture of pity and kindness.
“I’m great.” I nodded. “Just fucking great.”
“You know.” He tossed the rag onto the bar and rested his elbows beside it. “I’ve been doing this for a long time. You know what I’ve learned?”
“What’s that?”
“If a woman shows up at a bar, especially one in the middle of an airport, wearing an evening gown with only a purse and a frown, then something is definitely not okay.”
Exhaling sharply, I smirked and downed the rest of my drink. I tapped the glass on the bar and watched as he quickly moved to pour me another.
“So,” he said. “Therapy session?”
I shook my head. “No need. Men just suck.”
“Ouch.” He laughed. “Though I can’t say I disagree.”
“It’s my own damn fault.” I sighed. “I knew who he was when I got involved with him again. He’d already broken my heart once before. Why would I think this time would be any different?”
“Maybe you’re an optimist.”
“Or an idiot.”
“Either way.”
We both laughed, and my snicker turned quickly into a sigh. Sipping my vodka, I tried to figure out where I’d gone so wrong. This wasn’t like me. Not any of it.
“I just can’t believe I’m here,” I said, more to myself than the bartender. “A few hours ago, I was having a great time at this banquet. Then, everything went to shit, and suddenly, I was in my apartment booking a last-minute flight out of the city. God, I didn’t even bother to change before I came here.”
“Why change?” he asked. “You look fantastic.”
“Thank you.” I snorted. Blinking, I realized I’d been pouring my heart out to this guy whose name I didn’t even know. “Who are you?”
“What?” he asked.
I closed my eyes for a second and laughed, embarrassed.
“Sorry,” I said. “I mean, what’s your name?”
“Dorian.” He smiled. “I’m Dorian, the trusty airport bartender.”
“Hi, Dorian. I’m Candice.”
“Do people call you Candy?”
“Only my family,” I said. “Definitely not trusty airport bartenders.”
“Candice it is, then.”
We both laughed again, and I slowly began to feel better. The knot in my throat lessened, and my stomach untied itself as a steady calm settled around me. Maybe it was the booze or Dorian’s accepting company, I didn’t know. All I knew was that I’d made the right decision when I’d booked my flight.
“I can’t wait to get the fuck out of here.” I groaned and squeezed my hands together. “The faster this plane boards, the better.”
“What did this guy do?” Dorian asked.
“Which time?”
Dorian chuckled. “Start at the beginning.”
So, with vodka coursing through my veins, I began to tell this stranger my and Ryan’s entire story. I started from the beginning just like he asked. The coffee shop swam in my memory, Ryan’s cocky yet sweet smile. His persistence that we get to know each other. Our first date. Then, our second. I was almost feeling something for Ryan again until I reached the worse part of the story.
“—but I forgave him,” I said. “I let myself believe he was sorry for all the lies and deception. I was a fucking idiot.”
“You don’t think he was really sorry?” Dorian asked.
I shrugged. “Maybe, but it doesn’t matter now. He took money from my mother. Again. After telling me that he loved me. There’s no excuse for that.”
“Hmm.”
Dorian looked away. He reached quickly for an empty glass and began wiping it down as if he needed something to keep his hands busy.
“I thought you were the trusty bartender?” I said. “Avoidance isn’t in the job description.”
Smiling, Dorian turned back to me with a sigh. He set the glass down and perched his elbows on the bar again. Our eyes met. He held my gaze until my unwillingness to blink first made his face swim in my drunken vision.
“You’re hurt,” he said simply. “God knows you have the right to be, but maybe this guy was the real deal. Maybe he was telling the truth. Maybe, just maybe, his feelings for you were always real.”
“If you care about someone, you don’t lie to them.”
“You really think life is that simple?”
My chin hit my chest. The glass of vodka was still clutched between my hands. I lifted it to my lips and finished it in one gulp. Dorian’s eyes never left my face.
“I think I’m ready for this therapy session to end now,” I said.
Dorian raised his hands in surrender. “Fair enough,” he said. “Last call was like twenty minutes ago anyway.”
“Here.” I reached inside my purse and tossed a few bills onto the bar. “Thanks for the drink. And the ear.”
“That’s what I do.”
Dorian smiled as I slowly stumbled off the barstool. I’d barely drank a thing at the banquet and only two glasses at the airport. I wasn’t close to drunk, but I was most definitely not sober. My feet hit the ground, and I leaned to the side, grabbing the bar for support.
“Easy there,” Dorian said. “Need some help?”
“No.” I put my hand to my forehead. “Just lightheaded. I’m good.”
I steadied myself before taking a step forward. As I moved away from the bar, my head began to clear. I felt almost normal when Dorian’s voice called me back.
“Hey,” he said. “Candice.”
“Yeah?” I peered at him over my shoulder.
“Whatever happens with this guy,” he said. “Don’t let it make you bitter, okay? The right man is out there. You just have to be willing to find him.”
I tried to smile, but I could barely pull my lips upward. Just thinking about Ryan was enough to make my chest ache.
“Yeah,” I finally said. “Well, maybe the right man is in Seattle, right?”
“Maybe.” Dorian smiled. “Why don’t you go find out?”
Nodding, I headed toward the gate where an overly friendly flight attendant was waiting to open the doors. A few other passengers lounged on chairs in front of me, some sleeping and others just bored.
“We’ll be boarding any minute now,” the flight attendant told me. “Take a seat, ma’am. It won’t be long.”
“Thanks.”
She grinned and waved her hand toward a line of empty chairs. I longed to say something snarky, if only to wipe that annoying smile off her face, but I bit my tongue and tried not to spread my misery around.
The plane boarded not long after I sat down to wait. I moved through the aisle until I found my seat. It was the first time I’d flown coach, but I didn’t care. I plopped down on the seat by the window and leaned my forehead against the cool glass. My eyes stayed focused on the ground until it started to move beneath me.
Looking up, I realized the plane was taxiing toward the runway. We’d be in the air soon, and I would finally be able to leave New York City, and everyone inside of it, behind me.
I buckled my seat belt and leaned my head back against the seat. Closing my eyes, I focused on the rumble of the plane as my hands shook against the armrests. Beside me, another passenger cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. I ignored him, focused only on the movement of the plane around me.
We sped up, and I felt the plane begin to lift. I was pressed back against the seat, and my nails dug into the armrests. I wasn’t scared, not at all. I was just anxious to get the hell out of New York.
My eyes didn’t open until the plane leveled. We flew high above the city, tiny lights flickering beneath us. I stared down at them, wondering what building they belonged to. We were too high to tell, but I thought I could just make out the Smart Cosmetics building.
For the first time in my life, I wondered what it would be like to leave the city for good. To ride this plane to Seattle and then never ride it back.
“Are you okay?”
I turned to see the man who had cleared his throat before. He looked at me with soft, curious brown eyes.
“Have you ever thought about running away?” I asked. “Just hopping on a plane and never looking back?”
“Is that what you’re doing?” he asked.
“I don’t know.” I looked back out the window. “Maybe I am.”
He didn’t say anything at first. I could feel his eyes on the side of my face. I was too transfixed by the lights beneath me to care or even notice. Whoever this man was, he would forget me as soon as we stepped off the plane in Seattle.
“Running away can be good,” he finally said. “But I guess it depends on what you’re running away from.”
I looked at him and smiled. With a nod, I ended the conversation there. I could tell from the awkward look on his face that he didn’t understand anything I’d said, but that was okay. He was nothing more than a stranger.
By the time we landed in Seattle, I felt like a stranger too. It was as if the distance between me and New York had already changed me. As I stepped out of the airport and slid in the back seat of a cab, I tried to think of what to do or where to go.
“Head into the city,” I said to the driver. “Take me to the nicest hotel you can find.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I realized it didn’t matter where I went. Where I ended up wasn’t the point. All that mattered was the place I had left behind.
Chapter 63
Ryan
Blinking against the bright morning sunlight, I pushed myself back against my pillows. My head was pounding from lack of sleep, and I wondered what had woken me so early. Turning my head to the side, realization dawned on me.
Paisley was asleep beside me, her body turned horizontally across the bed. From the sore spot on my ribs, I knew she must have kicked me awake.
Rubbing my eyes, I straightened up and stifled a yawn. I didn’t do a very good job of it because as my lips closed, Paisley’s eyes opened. She rolled around on the sheets, stretching her arms high above her head. When she saw me, she grinned and bounced onto her butt.
“Hi, Daddy!”
“What are you doing in here, Pea?” I asked.
“Uncle Max dropped me off really early this morning,” she said. “He said he had to work, but that I shouldn’t wake you up.”
“Got it.”
I yawned again and rolled out of bed. My feet had barely hit the floor when Paisley jumped down beside me. She grinned her usual grin and brushed her messy brown hair off her face. It often appeared like Paisley was vibrating with energy, and this morning was no different. She stared up at me, excited to start the day.
“Breakfast?” I asked sleepily.
“Yes!” Paisley exclaimed. “I want pancakes.”
“I think we can do that.”
We made our way downstairs to the kitchen. Paisley stayed close on my heels as I busied myself with pancake batter, eggs, and bacon. No matter how hard I worked at cooking, though, it still wasn’t enough to quiet my mind.
“Daddy?” Paisley asked. “Can I have chocolate milk?”
“Sure.” I waved my hand toward the fridge. “You can grab it.”
“By myself?”
“Yeah.”
Paisley hesitated and then darted forward. She yanked open the refrigerator door and stood on her toes to reach the chocolate milk. It was in her hands before I realized my mistake.
“Whoa!” I grabbed it just before it hit the floor. “Careful, Pea.”
“You said I could do it,” she huffed.
“I know.” I sighed and set the milk on the counter. Running my hand over my face, I forced myself to wake up. “I’m just tired, Pea. I forgot that you aren’t big enough.”
“But I can try.”
“Not today.”
“But—”
“No.”
Crossing her arms, Paisley marched over to the table and sat heavily in her chair. I stared at her, a fresh wave of guilt washing over me. It was like I couldn’t get anything right, not even breakfast with my daughter.
I poured her a glass of chocolate milk and went back to cooking. By the time breakfast was ready, Paisley’s anger had subsided. She grinned as I placed her pancakes down in front of her.
“How was the party?” she asked. “Did you have so much fun? Did Candice look like a princess?”
“Candice always looks like
a princess.”
My stomach tightened as I remembered the way Candice had looked at the banquet with her beautiful dark brown hair and even darker brown eyes. She was a goddess among peasants, the shining star of the banquet that no one could extinguish.
No one except me.
“It was fun,” I said quickly. “We missed you, though.”
“Can Candice come over today? To play with me?”
My eyes fluttered closed, but I forced them open again. Paisley couldn’t know what happened between Candice and me. Not yet. Not until I had a chance to fix it.
“Not today,” I said with forced cheer. “She’s out of town for a little while.”
Paisley frowned. “Why?”
“For work.”
“But when did she leave?”
“This morning.”
The lies flowed so easily from my lips that my self-hatred only grew. I’d promised myself I would do better, that I would be better. And yet, here I was, lying to my four-year-old daughter about the woman we both loved.
“Eat up,” I said. “We have a busy day ahead of us.”
“What are we gonna do?” Paisley asked as she stuffed a huge bite of pancake in her mouth.
“Hmm.” I tapped my chin dramatically. “Let’s see. Maybe the zoo.”
“Really?”
Paisley practically leaped out of her chair, but her excitement was short-lived. Not a minute later, there was a tap on our front door. Frowning, I got to my feet and hurried over to see who it was. I wasn’t expecting anyone, but I thought it might be Kason stopping by to check on me after last night.
It wasn’t.
Peering through the peephole, I saw Leslie standing a few feet back from the door. While I watched, she shifted her weight nervously from one foot to the other and then back again.
“Who is it?” Paisley yelled from the kitchen.
I winced at her volume and quickly held my finger to my lips to silence her. She frowned but didn’t say anything else.
Turning back to the door, I tried to work up the nerve to answer. Whatever Leslie was doing here, I knew it couldn’t be good, not after last night.
With a deep breath, I slowly reached for the door handle and prepared myself to be eviscerated. When Leslie’s eyes met mine, I expected her to start screaming. The look in her gray eyes told me she had plenty to say.
