by Elle Casey
“Me too,” she says sadly. “I get it.” After a pause she continues. “You said some of the vibes were from him.”
“Yes. And the band, of course. I mean, I was supposed to come here and tell them off, but now I’m thinking about working with them? I know Red wants to talk to me about our lives and about our moms. I know I should just walk away from that, but he says there’s more to the story and I can’t help but be curious.”
“Of course you can’t. That’s totally natural. We’re curious too, Rose and I.”
This is part of the reason my sisters and I are so close; we suffered the same dreams lost or never realized, and we’re surrounded by the same history, upbringing, and outlook about the world. We get each other on a level no one else could. I’m so glad I’m talking to Em right now. She’ll help me make the right decision, untainted by silly girly emotions.
“When Red was talking about this job, my first instinct was to say no; but I think this is something I could do. I think it might be fun. And it’s only for two weeks.”
“Listen, you don’t need to sell me on it. It sounds like you want to do it, so I think you should.”
“But what if something goes bad with Ty?”
“What does it matter? It’s either going to go bad because you leave, or it’s going to go bad because something terrible happens between you and him because you’re there. But it could go well too. And he’s not the only reason you’re staying. He’s just a minor character in your world right now. The men in the band are part of our history, like it or not, and knowing our history might do you and us a lot of good. We won’t know until we hear it, though.”
“But I’ll only know what will happen with Ty or our fathers if I stay.”
“Yes. Only if you stay. So, how important is this guy to you? How much do you care about him?”
“I just met him. I don’t know if I care about him at all.”
“It sounds like you do, though. Even though you’ve only known him for a little while.” She’s mocking me, but I deserve it. I sound like a total wiener. Does that stop me from seeking validation? No.
“Maybe it’s because I’m that problem-solver person that you claim I am. Maybe I see that he has problems and I want to resolve them.”
“I don’t know. I think I was too hard on you earlier. We meet people with problems all the time, and you don’t try to solve them. You do it for people who intrigue you in some way or for people you care about. Does it mean you’re going to fall in love with Ty or he’s going to fall in love with you? Probably not. But you could have some fun in the meantime.”
“Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?” I smile. Now my mind is going places it probably shouldn’t.
“Hey, you’re a single woman in New York City. I hear that’s the place for romance. I don’t think you should have too many rules assigned to your situation. And even if there were rules, you should probably break them.”
“Maybe you could come up here and join me.” My fear is getting the better of me. Having one of my sisters by my side could make all the difference.
“Maybe another time,” she says, going a little cagey. “I’m in the middle of a project right now.”
“A project?” I get excited for her. “Are you painting again?” She hasn’t created anything in a long time. She only works when the spirit moves her, and it doesn’t move her very often anymore.
“I don’t know. Maybe. I think you going down to New York has really stirred some things up for me.”
“You are preaching to the choir, sister.” I laugh. Yes, our lives have become very stirred up, and nothing much has even happened yet. If I work for the band, will it get worse or better? Will I regret it? Will it be terrible enough to cause bad blood between myself and my mothers? I don’t believe that this could happen. I love those ladies more than life itself, and whatever I learn about their pasts is not going to change that fact. I feel like I’m about to embark on a journey of self-discovery, learning about how all these people made decisions that impacted the direction my life has gone in since the day I was born.
We sit for a moment in companionable silence. My mind wanders and only comes back when Em speaks. “So, what are you going to do, sister of mine?”
“I think I’m going to do it.” I nearly have a heart attack hearing myself say those words. “If it doesn’t work out, I can always quit and come home, right?”
“Yes,” she says cheerily. “Because this time I got you an open ticket, and all you have to do is go to the counter at the airport and show them your ID and you’re good.”
This feels like an amazingly good omen. “An open ticket? Is that even possible?”
“If you pay a little extra, it is.”
“I hope you didn’t use up too much of your savings.”
“What am I going to do with my savings? I never leave here.”
“You really should come down here sometime.” I look around the city, at all the people hustling and bustling. It’s starting to feel more familiar to me now. I’m not looking at it in disgust anymore; now I see . . . possibilities. “Manhattan really is something else. It’s electric. You can feel the energy humming all the time. It gets into your body.”
“Sounds completely nerve-racking.”
I laugh. “It is a bit at first, but you get used to it. It might actually be a little addictive.” My blood is racing at the idea that I could actually fit in here. I imagine myself as a big-city businesswoman and it makes me almost giddy with excitement. This is the perfect situation; I’m going to live this other life for two weeks. I’m not abandoning my family; I’m just here temporarily. I’ll be back at the farm in no time.
“I think I’ll be happy to just see some pictures and get a report about what’s happening once in a while,” Em says. “Will you keep us posted?”
“I will for sure. I guess I need to go talk to Lister and tell him what I’m thinking about doing, and see what he says. Maybe he’ll be a jerk again, and then I won’t want to work with them anymore and my problems will be solved.”
“And what are the chances of that?” she asks, laughing.
“I know, right?”
Ty opens the door with his elbow and comes out balancing two cups in his hands.
“I have to go; Ty is back.”
“Okay. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“Well, that doesn’t leave me with very many options, does it?”
She laughs. “Be good. I love you. And I’m going to tell Rose everything, okay?”
“Go ahead. And call me anytime you want.”
“I will. Love you, love you, love you. I’m so proud of you too.”
I pause for a minute before hanging up. “Proud of me? Why?”
“Because . . . you’re being bold and brave and beautiful. And I wish I could be more like you.”
“And I wish I could be more like you: artistic, sensitive, sweet, and kind.” I lower my voice to confessionary levels. “I have been so mean to people since I got here.”
“No, you haven’t. You’ve been standing up for what’s right, like you always do. I know who you are, and you don’t have a mean bone in your body.”
She makes my heart melt with her kindness. “Love you, sister.”
“Love you too.”
I fold up the phone and reach up to take the cup from Ty.
“I thought I remembered you don’t like coffee, so here’s a green tea.”
My heart goes as warm as the beverage in my hand.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
The walk back from the café to my hotel remains mostly a blur, but the part where Ty comes up in the elevator with me to my room and then stands outside my door . . . that will be burned into my memory for the rest of my life.
“What are you doing tonight?” he asks.
He’s playing it cool, so I’m going to try to do the same. “I’m not sure. I have to talk to Lister and see what he says about all this stuff.”
&nbs
p; “All of what stuff?”
I don’t know how much the band has shared with Ty about this job they proposed to me; it can’t be much because he hasn’t mentioned it, and now he’s wondering why I need to talk to Lister. Outside my hotel room doesn’t really seem like the place to talk about it either. Best to be vague.
“Just some things I discussed with Red this morning.”
“Oh. So . . . are you going back home today?”
“Maybe. It depends on what happens with Lister.”
“Cool.” He looks over his shoulder down the hall and then at the floor between us. “If you’re going to be around, maybe . . . you want to come over to my place for dinner?”
“Maybe. I mean . . . sure. Will you be the chef?”
“Nah, I’ll get takeout. I’m not much of a cook.”
My heart is beating rapidly. This sounds like a date. And I shouldn’t be surprised he’s asking me out or over to his house, because we’ve been holding hands for hours it seems and we’ve done nothing but share goofy grins. I’m nearly twenty-five years old and this should be a no-big-deal kinda thing, but try to tell that to my heart, cuz it ain’t buying it.
“How about if I call you and let you know after I meet with Lister?” I reach into my bag and find my phone, pulling it out and opening it up. “I think I have your number in here.”
“Sure. Give me a ring. Let me know.”
“What will you do if I can’t make it?” I’d hate for him to be waiting around all day for my call.
He shrugs. “I don’t know. Order in. Drown my sorrows in a bottle of whiskey.”
I push on his shoulder. “Stop. Don’t try to make me feel guilty.”
He grabs my hand and holds it between us. “I’m just kidding. But I would like to see you again before you leave.” He steps toward me, closing the space between us.
I’ve never been this near to him before. My pulse is racing. His face is messed up from his smeared makeup and earlier sadness, but he’s still the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen. He moves closer still, and his breath puffs across my lips as he whispers, “I really want to kiss you right now.”
Oh, what the hell . . . why not? “Go ahead and do it then,” I whisper back.
Suddenly, our lips are touching. And then his hand is on the side of my face and the kisses get deeper. Our tongues slide against each other, hot and wet. My hands go up to rest on his shoulders as my body catches fire. His free hand slides down to my waist, sending chills all up and down my spine. That bed is so close . . .
There’s a ding! and the elevator doors slide open. It takes a few moments for the sound to penetrate my brain and connect, telling me what’s going on. I quickly pull away, just in time to see a man turn left out of the elevators and walk down the hallway rapidly. He’s hunched over and I can’t see anything but his rear view, but he looks . . . so familiar. He turns a corner and I lose sight of him. Trying to place his form and body language is an exercise in frustration.
Ty looks over his shoulder. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know . . . There was some guy. He looked familiar, but I don’t know why.”
“Was he wearing a uniform?”
“No, he wasn’t. He was wearing a leather jacket.”
Ty looks at me and grins teasingly. “Like nine out of ten people in New York City right now.”
I smile too, realizing how silly I sound. “Yeah, pretty much.” He must think I’m so naïve.
That kiss was really amazing, but now that my blood pressure has calmed down and my brain is back to working at full capacity, I don’t think we should repeat the experience. I’m standing too close to a hotel bed that could easily fit the two of us, even if we were rolling around having crazy sex. Now is not the time to enter into that kind of relationship with Ty, especially if I’m going to be working as a consultant for the band for two whole weeks. A lot can happen in that period of time, which could seriously overcomplicate things that are already crazy.
“I’ll wait for your call, then?” he asks, pulling back.
“Yep. Maybe if Lister can meet me soon, I’ll be able to call in the next couple of hours.”
“Great.” He walks backward all the way to the elevator, giving me a thumbs-up after he presses the call button.
I don’t want to act like I’m mooning and fawning over him—even though I have the very strong urge to be that desperate, nutty person—so I take out my key card and use it in the door before he gets onto the elevator. Once inside, I pause a moment to take a couple breaths.
Damn, damn, damn-damn-damn. He is so hot. Even just imagining Ty in my hotel bedroom makes my face and other more intimate parts of my body grow warm. Leaving him out there was a great decision; I just wish it didn’t bring so much regret with it. Trying to be good when I want to be bad is so hard!
Once I’m more or less under control, I use the bathroom really quickly and then wash my face. My cheeks are flushed and overly warm. I’m pretty sure I’m not sick, though . . . unless falling in lust with somebody is an illness. It kind of feels like it is. I’m embarrassed over how easy it would have been for me to fall into bed with Ty. All he would’ve had to do was ask. I should be grateful that he was gentleman enough not to do that, but part of me is disappointed. I am one confused and sexually frustrated woman, that’s for sure.
I’m tempted to call my sisters and talk to them about it, but I don’t want them to know how easily I’m falling for this guy. They’ll remind me of how little action we get out at the farm and how it’s obviously me being desperate. I don’t want to hear that right now. I want to believe there’s a spark between Ty and me and that he senses it too.
I walk over to the chair that’s facing the windows and sit down, contemplating my day. It started out with a bang, having tea with Red, and then just got better and better from there. And now here I am ready to commit to two weeks of working with the band, something I would never have imagined I’d do. Surreal. My life is officially crazy. But there’s no point in delaying the inevitable, so I grab my phone from my bag and call Lister’s office. Surprisingly, he comes on the line within minutes instead of making me wait or having his gatekeeper tell me he’s not available.
“Amber. What can I do for you?”
“I had a conversation with Red this morning, and he said I should contact you after I made a decision about what I wanted to do.”
“Yes. He mentioned something to me about it this morning. Apparently, he’s made you some kind of offer? Some sort of paid position?”
I can’t tell from his tone whether he approves. I really shouldn’t care whether he does or not, but his lack of readable emotion is making me nervous and cranky. How is this man always able to make me feel less than adequate? “Yes,” I say, soldiering on. “It’s a two-week thing. Nothing permanent.”
“Okay.”
He’s not going to help me out in this conversation at all. Jerk. “So, if I’m going to accept his offer, what do I need to do?”
“We can start by you coming to my office to sign a contract, or I can send a courier over to where you are—at the hotel I assume—and you can sign there and send it back with the courier when you’re done.”
I wasn’t expecting this answer. “A contract? You want me to sign a contract?”
“Yes. It’s standard procedure. Anyone who works with the band signs one.”
This sounds a lot more serious than what Red and I were discussing. But after I think about it for a few seconds, I realize I don’t want to interfere in Red’s business any more than I already will be by telling him and the rest of the band what I think they should do to update their look. If this is their standard practice, I’d better just wrap my head around it and get it done.
“Okay. I don’t have anything better to do, so maybe I’ll just come there to your office now?”
“I’ll have it ready for you. Would you like me to send you a car?”
I hate saying yes to that, because it seems like I should
be able to walk from here, but my feet are killing me from all of the wandering around I’ve already done with Ty. “That would be nice. My feet are sore. I went all over Central Park today.”
“The hotel receptionist will call you when the car is there.”
“Okay. Thank you. I guess I’ll see you soon.”
“It won’t be me you’ll be seeing. It’ll probably be an associate.”
“Okay. Thanks. Bye.” I close my phone and think about what he said. A contract. It sounds very official. I guess I can understand why a band would need to have one. There’s probably something in there saying that I’m not allowed to tell any of their secrets. That makes sense. I can sign something like that, no problem. I have no interest in sharing anything I know about those men with anyone but my sisters and maybe my mothers.
I pace back and forth in front of the windows of my room until I get the phone call telling me that Lister’s car is downstairs. I check my watch—thirty minutes from the time I hung up with him. Not bad, considering the traffic out there.
I head downstairs, walking past people sitting at various tables set up in the lobby. Some of them look like businessmen having impromptu meetings and others could be groups of friends, celebrating and laughing. There’s a man sitting all alone in the farthest corner with a newspaper open and his one leg crossed over the other, just like Red was doing this morning.
I pause for a moment and stare at him, but when I see his fingers more clearly, I realize it’s not Red; this man doesn’t have any rings on. He is wearing leather pants, but he has different boots—like the kind a person wears if he’s riding a motorcycle. Is it the guy from the elevator? Maybe he’s staying on the same floor as I am. Maybe it’s just chance that has me seeing him all over.
As I walk to the car, I shake off the paranoia that suggests I’m being watched. Red is not stalking me and neither is his evil twin. The man is not that desperate. When he wanted to see me, he left me a message and let me decide whether we met or not. And he sent a lawyer to make contact the first time, right out in the open. There was no sneaking around or weirdness to it. Red strikes me as a very respectful person, so I know he wouldn’t spy on me. I’m almost positive. I shake off the chill that comes over me. Does everyone walk around this city seeing ghosts?
