“Please bring Tweet back down here.”
Birdie opened his mouth to speak and then changed his mind. There was nothing he could say and he knew it. If he’d taken Tweet to Jen’s house and saw this scene, he wouldn’t have left her either. He glanced around the house through Jen’s eyes and rubbed his face. Birdie brought Tweet back down, making sure to use the back staircase leading into the kitchen.
“Daddy, I thought I was staying here with you today?”
“I’m going to pick you up tonight,” Birdie said, kissing his daughter on the top of her head. “I promise.”
Birdie transferred Tweet into Jen’s arms.
“I’ll call you tonight and pick her up.”
Birdie walked them to the car and watched as Jen strapped Tweet into her car seat. She closed the car door and walked to where Birdie stood.
“I don’t think you should pick Tweet up tonight,” Jen said.
“What are you talking about? I just told her I would.”
“Bird, I don’t know what you’re going through right now. But I don’t want Tweet to be any part of it. You want to go all Animal House? That’s fine. But I’m not going to subject our child to this kind of lifestyle.”
“We have a custody agreement, Jennifer. And it’s my weekend.”
“So take me to court.”
“Wait,” Birdie said, holding up a hand. “Time out. We’ve never gotten down like this. We always work things out on our own.”
“Here’s how we work this out,” Jen said. “Stop being a loser.”
“One crazy party doesn’t mean I’m a—”
The front door opened and the two girls from the sofa came outside, blinking in the bright rays of sunshine. One girl, a tiny blonde with wide hazel eyes, teetered over to where Birdie stood.
“It was nice meeting you, Birdie,” she said. She hiccupped and then walked with her friend down the driveway.
Jennifer shook her head, got in the car, and pulled away, passing the two women as they got into a car parked at the foot of the driveway.
Bird stood there, watching the smoke from Jennifer’s sedan billowing out of the tailpipe. When she turned left, Birdie saw Tweet turn around in her car seat and wave.
Jake felt someone taking off his shoes. He wanted to protest but knew if he moved he’d throw up.
“Sit up and drink this,” said a woman’s voice.
Without protesting, he slowly sat up in bed. He didn’t open his eyes, but he opened his mouth and sipped. Alka-Seltzer. He took a hard gulp and sat back.
Who could it be? He didn’t recognize the voice. How on earth did he end up bringing back a nameless, faceless girl again? And this one was taking care of him. He tried desperately to think about who the woman could be and nothing came up. He couldn’t even remember where he’d ended up the night before.
No matter who it was, he was grateful for the cool side of the pillow and the Alka-Seltzer to settle his bubbling stomach. He opened one eye and squinted the other. The woman was in the bathroom, humming something random and running water over a washcloth. She squeezed out the water, folded the cloth, and came back into the bedroom. Jake shut his eyes tight as she placed the cool fabric on his forehead.
“You have a fever from the infection,” she said.
“What infection?” Jake mumbled.
“I’m guessing kidney,” said the woman. “You’ve been hard on it lately.”
Jake opened his eyes. It was Lily. She leaned over Jake and looked him in the eyes, her face soft and full of concern. She had her long black hair pulled back in a bun with a lily tucked inside. She was dressed modestly in a V-neck T-shirt and jeans. She looked like a nurse—or a nun—compared to the women he usually woke up next to. Jake sat up in bed as much as he could.
“How’d you end up here?”
“You came by the bar last night,” said Lily, wiping down Jake’s face. “You were already drunk when you got there and I wouldn’t serve you.”
“So how’d you end up here?” Jake asked again.
“You asked me to come home with you.”
“So all I have to do is be fall-down sloppy drunk for you to pay attention to me?”
“You were doing really bad,” said Lily. She picked up a pillow and put it behind Jake’s head.
Jake got a visual. He was swigging from his ever-present bottle and . . . crying? He looked over quickly at Lily, who was sitting at the foot of his bed.
“You didn’t come to my show,” Jake said. “I left you tickets.”
“I don’t like concerts,” said Lily.
“I left you messages at the bar. More than once.”
“I know. It’s just that I’m not interested in . . . anything.”
“Then why are you here?”
“If you saw what you looked like last night, you’d know. You begged me to come up here and I did, against my better judgment. And now I’m leaving. You’re welcome.”
“Did you eat breakfast?” Jake asked.
“Ian made me some toast.”
“He’s a little overly nice to company.”
Lily smiled and shrugged.
“You know your lifestyle could be a little dangerous,” she said. “I’d imagine a camera phone shot of you passed out in bed would go for a lot of money.”
“Is that what you did?”
“You know I didn’t.”
“I don’t know at all.”
“If you suspected as much, we wouldn’t be having a conversation in your bedroom right now.”
“Let’s go,” said Jake, pointing toward the bedroom door. “Breakfast.”
At the kitchen table, Lily and Jake sat, sipping coffee and picking at eggs.
“You’re a decent cook,” said Lily, holding up her coffee cup to toast.
Jake clinked her cup and set his down on a saucer.
“I’m not used to being turned down by women.”
“Rejection is healthy,” Lily said.
Jake smiled.
“I would imagine you wouldn’t know anything about rejection. Something tells me you can have any guy you want.”
Jake saw something like terror flash across Lily’s face.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. He put his hand on top of Lily’s, but she snatched it away.
“Nothing. I gotta get to work.”
“You’re not gonna keep running away from me like you’re Cinderella,” said Jake. “Come here.”
Jake grabbed Lily by the wrists and pulled her into the living room. Lily struggled to get away. She stopped short, planted her feet, and refused to move.
“Let go, Jake,” Lily said. “Please.”
Jake tugged until she tripped and had to take a few steps forward to avoid falling. He pulled her until they were standing in front of the couch. Jake sat down, still holding her wrists and dragged her to the couch with him.
Lily immediately began trying to wrestle her way off the couch, but Jake held her shoulders and turned her to face him.
“Stop it,” he said. He shook her shoulders. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
Jake slowly let go of Lily, watching her carefully to see if she would try to bolt. Instead, she turned around and leaned back in the sofa. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared straight ahead at the television.
Jake leaned over, grabbed the remote from an end table, and turned the television on.
“What do you want to watch?”
“I have choices? I thought I was being held captive.”
“You are. But you can still choose what you want to watch.”
Jake looked over at Lily. He could tell she was deciding whether she was going to give in or try to leave again. Watching her body slowly sink into the couch, he smiled.
Lily checked the time on her cell phone.
“I want to watch Jeopardy,” she said.
Jake turned to ABC and put his feet up on the coffee table.
“What’s your best category?”
Lily didn’t take her eyes off the tel
evision.
“All of them.”
“What do you want to put on that?”
“Anything you want.”
Jake sat up.
“If I win, we’re going to Atlantic City tonight. Play some slots. Catch a show. I’ll take you to my spot down there. We come home in the morning.”
“Fine,” Lily said. She didn’t take her eyes off the television.
“I’m serious,” Jake said. “Don’t let your mouth make a bet that your ass can’t cover.”
Lily didn’t respond. She took the remote out of Jake’s hand and turned the volume up on the television just as Alex Trebek began introducing the contestants. Jake called out for Ian to come and keep score. He sat behind the sofa, with a pen and pad in his hand. Thirty minutes later, Jake jumped up from the sofa, muted the television, and threw the remote down in mock frustration. From the first round until Final Jeopardy, Lily had maintained a triple-digit lead over Jake. She cleared out entire categories on obscure topics like the Balkans and Classic Kids’ Poems. If there hadn’t been a category called NFL Coaches of the Year and a few other sports categories, Jake would have been shut out. And Lily had beat out all three contestants on the show. As the credits rolled, Lily turned to Ian, a huge smile on her face.
“Can we get the final tally?” she asked.
Ian tapped his phone and then scribbled a few more numbers.
“Jake. 2,300. Lily. 37,800.”
“What the hell,” Jake said, laughing.
Lily smiled and stood up. “I guess that’s that.”
“Wait. Why are you so happy that I lost? You really don’t want to go out with me, do you?”
Lily didn’t answer. Jake got up and walked her to the back foyer of the penthouse. Lily stopped and looked at the platinum plaques that were lining the foyer walls. Kipenzi’s solo plaques were in the studio, and Jake kept his at his mother’s house. But the ones they’d earned together were hung along the corridor that led to the exit. Jake kept his hands clasped behind his back because he felt a strong urge to hug Lily. And she seemed like she would sock him in the jaw. He noticed that she was vibrant and giddy during the Jeopardy game, trash talking and making faces after she got another correct answer. At one point, she even slapped Jake on the back when she got a particularly difficult answer and then she seemed to catch herself and dial it down. But now she was stiff and wooden again.
Jake tried to remember how he actually courted women. He hadn’t done it in so long that he had no idea how to make a woman feel relaxed and comfortable. Lily didn’t seem like she wanted a compliment. And she definitely wasn’t looking for anything material. Jake decided to try honesty.
“How long would it take for me to wear you down?”
“What do you mean?”
“What if I continued to pursue you? Even though I lost the bet.”
“I guess I’d have to get a restraining order.”
Jake laughed and after a few seconds, Lily joined in.
“I don’t mean hanging outside your house or coming to your job. I mean just letting you know I’m interested. How much time would I have to invest before you gave me a chance?”
Lily rubbed her temples like she was in pain. Jake moved back so that he wouldn’t throw his arms around her and squeeze her tight.
“Do you realize that you have a drinking problem?”
Jake clenched his jaw. He liked her. But not that much.
“I’m not trying to tell you to stop,” said Lily. “I’m just saying that it might be something you want to take a look at.”
“You’re an addiction counselor too?”
“Most bartenders are. By default.”
“I’ll let you know if I feel like I need help in that area.”
Lily quickly shook her head.
“You don’t have to let me know. I can’t help you. But I would like to see you get some help.
Jake stared at Lily, and she held his gaze.
“I’m gonna go,” Lily finally said.
“Cool,” said Jake, opening the back door. He held it open and then just as Lily began walking past him out the door, he grabbed her forearm, pulled her back, and gently pressed her against the door. He wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed her hard on the mouth. He felt her muscles tensing up, trying to pull away. He kissed her again and then once more. Finally, she exhaled and kissed him back, running her hands down his back. She pulled away from him abruptly and shook her head as if to wake herself from a nightmare.
“Do you want to stay?” Jake asked, his arm still around her waist and his body pressed against her.
“Yes,” Lily said. Then she pulled away and rushed out the door. Jake watched as Lily practically ran out into the hallway where someone from his twenty-four-hour security team waited near the service elevator.
Jake closed the door and watched from the peephole as Lily stepped onto the elevator and the doors closed in front of her. He ambled back through the kitchen, their conversation—and that kiss—swirling through his head.
“Did you see me last night, Ian?” Jake asked.
“More intoxicated than usual, sir.”
“And this chick . . .”
“Helped you to bed. And then slept on the living room sofa.”
“What’s her deal?”
“I don’t know, sir,” said Ian.
Jake dismissed Ian early and stretched out on the living room sofa. His stomach still rumbled, but he had it under control. It was his mind that was swimming. All the women who had come in and out of his home in the past year, it was the one he didn’t have sex with who got under his skin. Jake wanted to believe that she had a secret motive. That she was on her way to meet a reporter and tell them everything she saw at Jake’s house. But for whatever reason, Jake knew that was not true. And he also knew he had to see her again.
Lily grunted as she stuffed the petals and stems down the garbage disposal in the restaurant’s kitchen. She turned it on and the motor whirred and then stopped abruptly. She yanked the flowers out, went over to the cutting board, and grabbed a butcher knife from the wooden block. She hacked until she had several handfuls of a sweet-smelling colorful pulp.
She used the edge of the blade to swipe the chopped flowers off the cutting board and into her hand, just the way the chef did when he scraped the onions and mushrooms into the hot frying pan. The flowers went into the disposal and this time, when she turned it on, they disappeared down the drain.
She leaned over the sink and tried to catch her breath. For the fifth week in a row, she came to work and found a group of employees huddled over a huge bouquet of flowers, oohing and ahhing at a floral arrangement and holding the card up to the fluorescent lights to try and read the message.
Each arrangement was completely different than the last. All were bursting in vibrant colors and textures and shipped in from exotic locations like Holland and Japan. Her boss had refused to let her toss last week’s delivery—three dozen bright white lilies from Hong Kong. She said they were too beautiful. So for two days, every time Lily walked past them, she swiped one flower and threw it out. Eventually, the arrangement had only a half dozen flowers left and her boss wondered aloud what happened to them. Then, on a Wednesday afternoon, Lily came in just to pick up her check and caught one of the bartenders trying to steam open the envelope addressed to her that was tucked into a mammoth arrangement of Stargazer lilies from Honolulu.
“Don’t you want to know who they’re from?” a bartender asked, as Lily snatched the card out of her hand.
“No, I don’t,” Lily said. She stuffed the card in the bottom of her bag, under her emergency flat shoes and her coffee mug.
“Well, why don’t you let me read it, and then I’ll throw it away for you.”
“Absolutely not,” Lily said, pushing back on the swinging doors back to the main dining room.
Every week, sometimes every day, Lily had to deal with the ever-changing arrangements that became increasingly elaborate. Finally, one day
she’d had enough. As soon as she walked in the restaurant, she smelled the flowers. She choked down a scream, marched into the kitchen, snatched them out of the vase, and started stuffing them down the disposal.
Lily sat down at the counter where the chef always let her have a taste test of a new menu item while it was still being developed and sobbed.
Never in her life had one man paid so much attention to her. Not since Rick had she felt so special and loved. She’d kissed Jake just once. (And she didn’t kiss him, she reminded herself daily, she just kissed him back, which wasn’t quite as bad.) But it didn’t matter. He didn’t know what he was dealing with. He was smitten and interested, and he was having a great time pouring it on thick. But didn’t he know something had to be wrong? Couldn’t he tell that Lily was crazy about him? If things had been different, Lily would have jumped his bones the day he kissed her.
Lily stood up and splashed water from the sink over her face and dried her face and hands with a paper towel. She rubbed her lips with the paper, remembering how soft Jake’s lips were on her own. Her pulse quickened again when she relived the feeling of his arms around her waist.
Lily screamed and then slammed both of her fists down on the counter. The spice rack popped up an inch off the counter and some of the small canisters popped out of the container, some falling onto the floor.
Beverley, her boss, pushed through the double doors, a tray of empty wineglasses in her hands.
“Go,” said Beverley. She placed her tray on the counter and then jerked a thumb toward the service entrance. “Outta here.”
“I’m okay. I’m sorry I yelled out.”
“I’m giving you the night off. Get yourself together. Come back tomorrow ready to work or I’m going to have to let you go.”
Lily nodded and took off her apron and her tennis shoes. She went into her bag and slowly put her shoes on while Beverley rinsed out the glasses and glared at her.
“You got another delivery,” Beverley said.
Lily looked up from adjusting her shoes and groaned.
“I told the guy to take them back.”
“Thank you.”
Beverley sat down on a stool near the counter.
“Do you want to talk about whoever is sending you the flowers?”
Diamond Life Page 26
