But that wasn’t enough for her. I allowed myself to get tangled in her web of softness and light and beauty. And now that she’s taken those things away from me, I don’t even recognize myself anymore.
Before, she came here, I was short-tempered and irritable. A peevish, old grouch as Mini would say. But at least it was familiar. I was used to it. But now that Lily has sprinkled her fairy-dust magic all over me before disappearing from my life, I’m lost. I’m drowning in my own misery.
“You shouldn’t have let her go,” Mini says, “She was good for you. And you were good for her.”
I scoff. “You’re wrong. I wasn’t good for her. I didn’t have anything to offer her.”
She squints at me under the thick frames of her glasses. “You had your heart.”
“What heart?” I counter, trying not to roll my eyes. “You’re mistaken, old lady.”
Mini ignores me. She just keeps on talking. “I’d never seen you as happy as you were with her.”
I’m silent, staring out into the black, hopeless night.
“You’re beating yourself up. I can see it. You’re just going to beat yourself over it for the rest of your days…You shouldn’t have let her go.”
“What did you want me to do, Mini!” I yell. “She wanted to leave! She probably wanted to go back to her fancy job and make up with the baby’s father and I didn’t have a good enough reason to make her stay! There’s nothing here for a city girl like her!”
Mini falls quiet, her lips tight with frustration. After a long, moment of edgy silence, she speaks. “Help me back inside, please.”
Self-reproach weighs heavily on my shoulders yet again. I shouldn’t have yelled at her. Especially since I know that, deep down, she only wants to see me happy. And she’s right.
About everything.
As always.
I stand and wheel her chair up the ramp and down the hall into her room. I help her get into bed.
“I’m sorry…” I mumble feebly, as I hover at the foot of her bed.
She just pulls her blanket around her body and rolls onto her side, refusing to look at me.
I turn toward the door. I’m becoming an expert at hurting the people I care about. Not exactly a badge I wear with pride.
Mini speaks as I step over the threshold. “I didn’t raise you rich. I didn’t raise you to be a genius. But I did raise you to be a man. And a man doesn’t sit by and wallow when the woman he loves up and walks away from him. A man fights.”
I don’t turn back or acknowledge her words. But I hear them loud and clear.
Without saying a thing, I close the door softly behind me.
Chapter 42
Lily
“I’m so thrilled that you’re here,” Siobhan says pulling me under her arm and guiding me through the renovated warehouse that now houses Hectic and a bunch of other small fashion and lifestyle blogs.
The place is a zoo.
This isn’t what it looked like in the brochure. Dozens of people mill around, each looking busier than the next. Siobhan introduces me to a girl about my age standing by a printer that’s erratically spitting out paper. An older woman in a sharp suit sits in an executive chair behind a glass wall that overlooks the whole room. She’s definitely the Miranda Priestly of the whole operation. Siobhan moves me to the far end of the warehouse. There are racks of designer clothing lining the walls and an obscene array of shoes littering the floor. Two college-aged interns move around quickly and efficiently, attempting to make sense of the mess. A short guy with purple bangs and matching vinyl pants drapes a swath of fabric over a model who stands butt-naked in the middle of the chaos like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“Robbie,” Siobhan calls out, “this is Lily!”
The man waves her off. “Yes, yes, sweetheart. Put her to work!” He ties the scarf around the model’s waif-like body, trying to strategically cover her nipples and her vagina.
Good lord – welcome back to the fashion world, Lily.
Months ago, I would have killed for this opportunity but right now, this feels like the last place I want to be. I silently remind myself of why I’m here. I’m doing this for the baby. I’m doing this for the baby. I’m doing this for the baby.
“Rob is the fashion editor. I’m his boss –-” she lifts her voice “—but by the way he talks to me, you’d never guess it.”
Rob turns to her and gives her an exaggerated wink over his shoulder. Her eyes roll into her head but she grins anyway.
That’s when Rob’s gaze falls on me for the first time. And that’s when I notice that his contact lenses are purple, too. This guy is committed to his color coordination. He scans me from top to bottom and he dramatically drops everything he’s doing.
“Well damn, girlie – you’re about ready to pop!”
Now, I feel self-conscious. “I’m only halfway along. I’ve still got a few weeks to go.”
He doesn’t say anything. He only whistles under his breath before turning back to his naked human mannequin.
“It’s that time of the month,” Siobhan says loudly, tipping her chin in Rob’s direction.
He sticks out his tongue.
“Anyway,” Siobhan says. “You’ll work here.” She motions to one chair at the end of the table. A half-eaten donut sits on a napkin, spilling its jelly all over my new work station. She must notice the apprehension on my face. “We’ve adopted an open-concept work environment,” she says apologetically.
Perfect! Ten square feet of open space all to myself. I try not to look ungrateful. Siobhan is doing me a favor. This is a great opportunity for me and the baby.
But I just can’t help but think about the wide open fields and the clean air on Jakob’s farm. The fresh salads and meats we’d enjoy for lunch. The warmth of his big hands stealing handfuls of my ass throughout the day.
Okay – enough, Lily. You’re not allowed to torture yourself. You’re supposed to be excited about this.
A few months ago, I would have been excited – before I went to Reyfield, before I met that grumpy old farmer and fell into his bed – this would have been a dream come true for me.
“It’s fine,” I breathe out. “It’s great.”
Siobhan taps me on the shoulder. “It’ll take a little time to fall into the flow of things but once you do, you’ll love it. I promise.”
“Honey, come over her and help me hold this girl’s tits in place,” Rob calls out as he unrolls a strip of double-sided tape. He’s still struggling to get that scarf to drape just right over that poor model’s body.
Siobhan hurries over, sticking strips of tape to the model’s skin as Rob fixes the fabric just right.
This is my life right now. Siobhan’s right. I just need some time to fall back into the groove. I’ll be fine. I’ll adjust. Right?
And just as I’m sinking into my seat, I feel something in my belly.
It’s a flutter on the right side. I freeze, my hand flying to my stomach. And right then, the movement stops. I hold still, waiting…waiting…
And there it is again. That persistent little flutter.
He’s kicking. My baby’s kicking.
My eyes shoot up, looking for someone to share the moment with. Everybody in the room is engrossed in robing that poor human statute in that thin swath of clothing.
Nobody sees me. Nobody even remembers that I’m here.
Tears come to my eyes. They’re tears of joy. I think.
And I find myself wishing that Jakob was here, with his big rough hand cupping my stomach, as life grows inside of me. Too bad that isn’t going to happen.
Chapter 43
Jakob
I hit the bell and when the door starts to swing open, my heart rate picks up. I half-expect her to be standing there in those silky bubblegum pajamas and a yawn pushing past her soft pink lips.
But it's Grace on the other side of the door.
And don't get me wrong, she's a beautiful woman but right now she looks like s
he got hit by a train of hurt. Her eyes are red-rimmed and her lashes wet with hastily wiped tears. She wears leggings with a huge Wayne State University t-shirt that swallows up her petite frame. Must be her husband's. Lily mentioned that she kicked him out. I never liked the guy. I'm sure he deserved it. But it sucks to see Grace crying.
I'm going to mind my own business, though. I'm not a therapist. I'm just here to deliver the milk.
"Morning Grace," I say, my tone flat.
"Morning." Her voice is as broken as the rest of her. She wipes her tear-stricken cheeks with the back of her hand and pushes her tousled hair from her face.
I stretch two glass bottles out to her. "Here's your milk."
She tries to smile but it seems to take too much effort. "Thanks," she croaks, taking the bottles from my hands. "Give me a second to get my purse." She disappears into the kitchen.
My conscience pokes at me. She's in pain. She could probably use a friend. And I know how draining it is to lug around a broken heart. But at the same time, I don't stick my nose into people's business. I keep to myself.
Grace is a customer. Not a friend.
Still, there's a tiny voice in my head reminding me that she’s the sister of the woman I love, the woman I'm aching for. That's got to count for something.
I observe her as she trudges back to the door and drops a few dollar bills in my hand. "Thank you," I mumble.
Our eyes hold for a fraction of a second and although I recognize the hurt in her gaze, although I understand it, I turn on my heel, heading back toward my truck.
I'm not gonna meddle I'm not gonna meddle I'm not gonna meddle
But my conscience won't shut up. It keeps nagging me to say something — anything. To acknowledge her suffering so that she won't feel so miserably alone.
It's the humane thing to do.
It's what Lily would do.
I pivot on my heel just as she's closing the door. "Grace?"
She looks at me where I'm standing at the bottom of the front steps. "Yes?"
My chest rises on my deep inhale. I shouldn't be meddling. "Are you okay?"
There's that weak smile again. "I will be...eventually." Her eyes brighten just a touch. It makes me feel a little better inside. "Thanks for asking," she says.
I turn away again and I'm yanking open the truck door when I hear her say, "She asked about you..."
My heart stops and drops into my gut. My whole world screeches to a stop. My eyes shift back to Grace. She takes a step onto the porch.
"I spoke to Lily a few days ago and she asked about you." My chest burns. Why is it so hard to breathe? "I can tell she misses you as much as you miss her, Jakob."
I want to lie. I want to tell Grace that she's wrong, that Lily was just an employee. But my heart is too weak to lie.
"I do miss her a whole lot." As the words slip past my lips, I'm helpless to stop them.
Grace's expression fills with compassion and understanding. "Come in. I just made some coffee." She motions toward me with her hand.
I hesitate. I don't fraternize with my customers. I don't fraternize with my customers.
"I really need to get going." I dig into my pocket for my keys.
"Jakob, come in." Grace wears Lily's hardheaded expression.
I sigh roughly. “Grace, please don’t do this…”
“Come in,” she insists.
I stand my ground. “Lily made her choice. She wanted to go back to her fashion blog job. She probably got back together with her ex-boyfriend and they’re living in some hipster condo in some gentrified part of the city.”
She shakes her head incredulously at me. “You have no freakin’ clue what you’re talking about, do you? There’s so much more to the story.”
I stare at her blankly.
She folds her arms across her chest and eyes me challengingly. “You’re going to come in here and talk to me, Jakob Wilkinson.”
I chuff, shaking my head in awe. These pint-sized Monroe women have mastered the art of tenacity.
I find myself climbing the stairs. Before long, I'm sitting at the kitchen table with a warm mug between my hands.
"Okay, Jakob," Grace says, "let's figure out how you’re going to win my sister back."
Chapter 44
Lily
"Hun, I'm gonna need you to lose the shirt."
I glance over at Rob and roll my eyes without even trying to hide it. He gives me a shameless grin as the man in front of us reaches for the hem of his shirt and starts undoing the buttons.
This is starting to feel a little porn-y. Especially with the Marvin Gaye song playing on loop in the background. I'd say that “Let's Get It On” is a tad suggestive for the current situation. But I'm the only one in the room who seems to mind.
I turn to Siobhan, hoping that she’ll talk reason to Rob. But I should know better. “Yes,” she agrees as she flips through the model's thick, colorful portfolio. He's been in all the big magazines over the past few months and he dominated the catwalk during Fashion Week. Any layperson can see why — the guy is incredible-looking. "Sell us the fantasy, babe. Make us want that wrist watch. Make us crave that wrist watch," she says breathily. She wears a completely straight face and aside from the string of drool clinging to her bottom lip, she comes across as a complete professional.
Not a sneaky, little predator who’s enjoying the chance to objectify the tall, lean tower of testosterone standing before us.
I kick her under the table and she picks up her glass of ice water, bringing it to her lips to hide her devious smile.
Jason Cruz on the other hand carries himself with utter professionalism. It's to be expected, though. He's a top pick of Swag Model's men's division and one of the best paid male models in the world. He's accustomed to having mere mortals salivating over his stone-carved physique.
He shrugs his shirt off of his shoulders before undoing the top button of his fly and striking a pose that would inspire Leonardo DaVinci.
Rob's gasp echoes through the room. One look at this guy's body and Siobhan is choking on her ice water.
Yeh, yeh. I get it. He's hot. But we've spent all morning auditioning models for a luxury watch photo shoot that we're doing next week. Can we just pick someone and get it over with?
"Jason, can we have your comp card?" I ask impatiently, "We'll give your agency a call if we need you."
He hands me a glossy piece of paper covered with his headshot and a few editorial shots along with his measurements and contact information.
"Thank you," I say as I accept it.
He gives me a smile...It's meant to set my panties on fire.
Oh honey, my bladder is so close to exploding right now that those flames wouldn't stand a chance.
He says his goodbyes and turns toward the door, giving us a view of his muscular back, narrow waist and tight ass as he goes.
Shameless, I tell you.
I can almost smell the smoke billowing from Siobhan and Rob's loins but me, I'm dead on the inside. It will take a lot more than a half-naked male model to ignite the part of me that froze over when my heart crumbled in Jakob's hands.
The only thing that's keeping me going is the knowledge that I have a life growing inside of me, a child who will be here soon, who will need diapers and blankets and love. A child who will need heart surgery. If it wasn't for my baby, I'd be curled up in the fetal position right now, lamenting over my wounds. But I've got to keep going. Single mommas don't get to feel sorry for themselves.
I push away from the table, stretching my legs.
"Just where do you think you're going?" Rob asks in that snarky way of his.
I glance at the clock on the wall. "It's lunch time my friend, and I am eating for two."
"Sit. Sit," Siobhan insists, gesturing dramatically with her slender hand.
I dance in place. "I really need to go to the bathroom."
She gives me placating eyes. "I think we only have one more. Then we'll go to Gilbert's and I’ll watch you e
at taco-style loaded potatoes. My treat."
My stomach rumbles. "Now, you're just playing dirty, Siobhan." She grins victoriously as I plop back into the chair. The truth is, she had me at 'my treat'. Every penny counts and I'm trying to save as much as I can before this baby comes.
I spin around in my chair and reach for some of the snacks sitting on the window sill behind the table where we're sitting. I'm dying for loaded potatoes. With cheese. And refried beans. And salsa. Yeh, lots of cheese. And those salty, spicy, vinegary peppers. (What are they called?) But this dry, crumby granola bar will have to do for now.
Dirty Farmer (The Dirty Suburbs Book 6) Page 15
