Not that he regretted it now: he could build a superbike from the ground up. Lang didn’t like RUBs—rich, urban bikers—the kind of men who knew how to ride a Harley but couldn’t change their own oil. Judging men by their handshakes, wealth, ethics, and sometimes the women they kept, Lang had his own set of standards, and how a man treated his machines had a lot to do with his perception.
“Sir?”
Lang eyed the server.
“Here’s your drink.”
“Thanks.”
“What room number should I bill?”
Shit, he didn’t know which suite Felipe was staying in, and his cash was rolled up in his shirt on the lounge chair near the other pool. He gazed across the water, able to make out Felipe, still at the same table they’d been sitting at.
“See the guy wearing the red Hawaiian shirt under the purple umbrella?” Lang pointed. “I’m his guest today.”
The waiter nodded. “I’ll take care of it.”
Lang pulled the piece of celery from his glass and crunched on it. Maybe he should invite Lily on a weekend getaway to a resort. He’d like to see her stretched out on a lounge chair, her silky skin turning golden brown. Then he’d take her back to their room and fuck her stupid.
He took a deep drink, remembering the night at the beach, Lily’s neatly trimmed pussy at his mercy. As soon as he finished swimming, he’d call her and arrange to take her out again. He liked what happened after he fed her oysters and lobster.
Chapter 16
When Lily opened her office door at the end of the day, she didn’t expect to find Maya waiting for her outside. Of course she’d extended an open invitation, offering her a safe place to come and get things off her chest. And judging by the tearstains on her cheeks, she needed a friend.
“Maya?”
“Ms. Gallo, I really tried my best…” Maya inhaled, regaining her composure slowly. “Can we sit inside your office?” She looked uncomfortable standing in the hallway among the students in a rush to go home.
“Absolutely.” Lily gestured for her to step inside. “What happened?”
“Melissa Edwards.”
Lily closed her eyes, trying to picture the student; her name was definitely familiar. “Ah—captain of the cheerleading team?”
“Yes,” Maya answered. “She terrorizes me every day.”
Lily narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean? Did she threaten you?”
“Not exactly.” Maya folded her hands on the desk, visibly nervous. “Remember I signed up for cheering class? Well, Melissa takes over when the instructor needs to work with the varsity squad. And no matter what I do, how hard I try to nail every move, she criticizes me—insults me in front of everyone.”
Lily had a zero tolerance policy when it came to bullying. Sometimes teenagers just didn’t get along, and feelings often were hurt. But there were two sides to every story. “Can you give me an example?”
“Today we were working on back tucks and I forgot to stand up straight at the end. She called me a clumsy bitch and all the girls laughed at me.”
Popular kids targeted emotionally vulnerable kids like Maya. Lily had experienced similar struggles in middle school, so she could understand how horrible it felt to be humiliated in class. However, Maya’s disruptive history added to the problem—Lily would need to speak directly with Melissa and the other girls in the class too. “Did the situation end there?”
“No,” Maya said, suddenly correcting her slouching posture. “After class we headed to the locker room to shower. I waited for most of the girls to finish before I got undressed and rinsed off. When I stepped out, my bra and panties were missing.” Maya stood and stared down at her short skirt. “I can’t walk around without panties under this.”
“Did you get your clothing back?”
Maya nodded.
“Is there more?”
“I didn’t mean to do it…but she kept saying horrible things. Called me white trash. Insulted my brother and sisters…”
“Did Melissa steal your clothes, Maya?”
“Yes.”
“How did you get them back?”
“I punched her in the face.”
Oh no. Fighting usually resulted in suspension. “Did Melissa report the incident to the instructor?”
“Ms. Lanset never returned to class. So I don’t think so. But once her eyes turn black tomorrow, I’m sure she will.”
Of all the unfortunate things to happen so early in the first semester of her freshman year. Maya hadn’t been given enough time to develop relationships with her teachers or the assistant principal or the students. And no matter how impartial adults tried to be, systemic prejudices pervaded every school.
“We need to visit Dr. Henley’s office right away.”
Maya sat back down, eyes focused on the floor. “I thought everything we discussed in this room stayed here.”
“Maya,” Lily said firmly, “you can’t possibly expect me to ignore what you just told me. Physical altercations aren’t protected under client-therapist confidentiality. Do you understand?”
Dark eyes met Lily’s gaze. “Every psychiatrist I’ve visited read me a long list of rules and expectations. I just thought since you and Lang are friends…”
Lily couldn’t help but wish at a time like this that she and Lang had never met. One of the biggest reasons she felt uncomfortable counseling Maya was because of her preexisting relationship with her brother. One that had gone further than she’d ever planned. She stood and gathered her purse and briefcase.
“I’ll support you every step of the way. Just remember that Melissa will get an opportunity to share her version of the story. It is very important that you be completely honest with me and Dr. Henley, even if you did something wrong.”
A glimmer of hope flashed in Maya’s eyes. “Okay.”
They walked in silence to the main office. Several students were seated in the waiting area. The school administrative assistant greeted Lily.
“Is Dr. Henley available?” Lily asked, hoping he was.
“Let me check.” The assistant picked up her headset. “Dr. Henley, Ms. Gallo would like to see you.” She hung up and smiled. “Just caught him in time.”
“Thanks,” Lily said. “Maya, wait for me here.”
She knocked on his half-open door and he waved her inside. “How’s our hotshot counselor doing?” he asked with genuine enthusiasm. “I meant to check in this week—it’s just been so busy.”
“I know,” Lily agreed. “I have ten new students signed up for regular sessions, not counting the existing list Mr. Damsey left behind.” Her predecessor had retired early, leaving a long list of teenagers he’d been working with. “I’m afraid we have a situation.”
“Situation?” Dr. Henley repeated. “Sounds serious. Please sit down.”
Lily shared everything Maya had disclosed to her.
“Once we talk to Melissa, are you prepared to make recommendations based on your knowledge of Maya’s history?”
“What kind of recommendations?”
“Disciplinary.”
“To be honest, if Maya is telling the truth, I think both girls are equally guilty. Although I never condone violence, I do believe Melissa pushed Maya on purpose, hoping to make her react.”
Dr. Henley drummed his fingers on his desk. “I couldn’t agree more. Melissa’s twin brothers graduated a few years back, both football players and popular. And troublemakers. Seemed to have a nasty habit of picking on freshmen. I’ve been working at this school for thirty years, Ms. Gallo, and one thing has never changed.”
She arched a brow, curious about his perspective.
“Of all the social constructs we struggle against in this school district—sex, race, religious origin—one remains more implacable than the others.”
“What?”
“The division between the haves and the have-nots. Once your parents’ financial situation determines your social status, I think the chances of changing that are sli
m.”
“Is that what you think is going on here? To my knowledge, Maya’s brother makes good money.”
“You know Lang?”
“Yes,” she said, not wanting to reveal more information than necessary. “We met a couple weeks after I moved here.”
“He’s a good man—always liked him.” Dr. Henley regarded her for a long moment, then checked his watch. “Send Maya to my office. I’ll take care of contacting Melissa’s parents if you’ll agree to speak with Mr. Anderson.”
“Of course. Maybe I should stick around and offer Maya a ride.”
“I’ll make arrangements to get her home,” he said. “Let’s meet up in the morning to discuss how we can de-escalate the situation. The school board passed some pretty progressive policies last year regarding the types of disciplinary action we can take regarding cases like this. I’d like to come up with something creative to teach these girls a real lesson—something more effective than a week off from school. Agreed?”
Lily stood, amazed by Dr. Henley’s flexibility and understanding. “Completely in agreement. Thank you.”
She headed for the door.
“Ms. Gallo?”
“Yes?” She gazed over her shoulder.
“Tell Mr. Anderson not to worry too much about his sister, she’s in good hands.”
Chapter 17
Lily inspected the dining room table a last time to make sure she hadn’t overlooked anything. Plates, napkins, silverware—check. Roasted turkey breast, spinach salad, and sourdough bread all waiting in covered dishes—check. Red wine, beer, or sweet tea ready to go. Her doorbell rang and she smoothed her hair before she walked to the front door. She’d invited Lang over for dinner. Once again the common denominator was his little sister.
She nearly laughed out loud at the contradictory statement he made standing there with a bouquet of white lilies and a bottle of wine in his leathers and boots. Her eyes traveled swiftly down his body, pausing on his thighs, every muscle visible through the tight material of his riding pants.
“See something you like, Counselor?”
She snapped her chin up, embarrassed he caught her staring. “Please, come in.” She backed away, granting him entry.
“Thank you for inviting me over,” he said, offering her the flowers, then kissing her cheek.
“Beautiful,” she said, sniffing the lilies, loving the idea of Lang stopping at a florist on his Harley. “Thank you.”
She closed and locked the front door, leading him deeper inside.
He immediately unzipped his vest, took it off, then draped it over the back of one of the chairs at the table. Then he looked around the room, his gaze moving from the kitchen, to the dining room, then to the living area—an open-concept design painted in muted yellows and greens. “Nice place,” he commented. “Very much the way I imagined.”
“Should I take that as a compliment?” she asked. “Or are you stereotyping me?” She walked into the kitchen and grabbed a vase from the cabinet underneath the sink.
“A little bit of both,” he answered, watching her from the breakfast bar. “I pegged you as a type A personality the night we met. Rigidly organized, ambitious, proactive, and very anxious.”
She snickered as she joined him in the dining room, placing the vase with the flowers on the bar. “Didn’t know you were a psychoanalyst.”
He shrugged. “Takes one to know one, right?”
“Are you admitting you’re a control freak too?”
“Ah—the truth comes out. You like being in control?”
“Of course,” she said feeling the blush warm her cheeks. “Who doesn’t?”
He rubbed his chin, the mischievous look in his eyes very appealing. “I know lots of women who prefer surrendering complete control to a man of my experience.”
She rolled her eyes. “Would you like a glass of wine or beer?”
“No comment?” he asked, proffering the bottle of wine he’d brought. “Where’s the corkscrew?”
She pointed to the table. “Right there. Are you hungry, Dr. Freud?”
“Starving.”
She sat down and waited while Lang opened the bottle, then poured her a glass. He sat next to her, still grinning. Lily uncovered the dishes, and steam filled the air.
“Smells delicious. So you’re a good cook?”
“A skill my mother believed no woman could go without.” She served him a generous portion of meat and salad. “Is that enough?”
“For now,” he said, cutting into the turkey and taking a bite. “Perfect.”
“Thank you.” She sampled the meat too.
“I’m glad Maya confided in you today,” he said. “Whenever she gets in trouble, she usually reaches out to one of the old ladies my mother trusted.”
“Not Rosa?”
He shook his head. “Rosa is like a family member, so if it involves fighting, Maya tries to hide it from her. Dr. Henley dropped her off at the house—good thing I was home. We discussed Maya’s educational goals and emotional needs. He asked me to meet him at school tomorrow morning. Melissa’s mother will be there too.”
“Yes,” she said. “I believe we’re going to try a more therapeutic course of action.”
“I’m all about blazing a new trail, Lily.”
With that intense stare, he could blaze a trail to her heart. “Good,” she said. “We need more support from parents if we’re going to positively impact students’ lives. I don’t believe kids are inherently bad, Lang.”
“Maya admitted she was wrong for hitting Melissa. We had a long talk about self-defense being the only situation where she can use her fists to settle anything.”
Lily grimaced. “Some school districts disallow any type of violence. I want to make sure we’re not confusing Maya.”
Lang set his fork down, took a sip of wine, and looked at her. “Chances are we agree on most things. But if you think I’m going to teach my sister to turn the other cheek while she’s getting the shit kicked out of her, I won’t. That’s where I draw the line. Live and let live, Counselor. But the minute someone physically threatens her, I want Maya to defend herself.”
Lily let his words sink in. She didn’t disagree with him for the most part. But his idea of self-defense might be different than most people’s, considering his club affiliation. “Define ‘defend herself.’ ”
“She’s not allowed to start things, but she sure as hell can finish them.”
Lily closed her eyes for a split second, not liking what he implied. “Is there a gauge for how far she can go? Because that idea doesn’t sound very healthy at all.”
“Don’t put words in my mouth. Where I come from, what I do for a living, the way I was raised—none of that should matter. And don’t look away from me like I insulted you, Lily. I face prejudice everywhere I go because I wear patches and ride a Harley. Remember a few minutes ago you asked if I was stereotyping you? The simple answer is yes. The way you did me the first night we met. Happens all the time, to everyone. Including Maya because she’s my little sister. And yes, there’s a limit on how far she can go. All three of my sisters have been taught how to respect their elders and peers. More than most kids. And if they screw up, appropriate punishment will follow. But don’t ever ask me to teach her to lay down without a fight if she feels like she’s in danger. And that’s how she felt in that locker room. And you know what? I believe her.”
Lily’s heart did a somersault for two reasons. First—Maya had a fierce protector in her brother. He might be tarnished and jaded, but God, she couldn’t remember the last time a parent expressed his feelings so precisely and without regret. More often than not, parents sought permission or approval from teachers—like her position entitled her to have a hand in the decisions they made at home. Second—would he ever consider a job as a child advocate? Because she could totally picture him going to battle for special needs kids.
Once again, Lang had surprised her.
She rested her elbows on the table and fo
lded her hands. “I believe her too. But Melissa has the right to give her version of the incident.”
Their gazes held for a couple of silent moments.
“I’m glad to hear it, Lily. Maya deserves a second chance—the kid has been through hell. I don’t want you thinking I’m walking around with blinders on when dealing with my flesh and blood. If anything, my expectations are higher because she’s my sister.”
“If Maya doesn’t thrive in public school, there are other choices. Texas offers so many options for kids.”
“Private school? Homeschooling?”
“Sure,” she said. “But there’s charter schools too. Programs designed to cater to students like Maya.”
“You mean high-risk kids?”
She nodded.
“We’ve discussed boot camp. Maya knows if she screws up like she did last year, I’ll yank her out of school so fast she’ll get whiplash.”
“Understood, Mr. Anderson.” If it took dedicating all her free time to help keep Maya from getting placed in one of those programs she disapproved of, she’d do it. Too many negative reports about juvenile boot camps had hit the media over the years: When wilderness boot camps take tough love too far…Wilderness therapy program for troubled teens gets it wrong…
“ ‘Mr. Anderson’?” he repeated on a smile. “We’ve regressed to the formal thing again?”
“Perhaps when we’re discussing your sister’s case, we should keep it formal. Maybe establish some boundaries.”
“Will you call me Mr. Anderson when I make you come with my tongue again?” He leaned close, his strong fingers winding a path up her arm.
Her heart skipped a beat. Lily should dissuade him from touching her without invitation. But that rule had been tossed out the night on the beach when she lost her mind. The only legitimate excuse she had for maintaining her distance revolved around keeping their professional and personal relationships separate. But even that felt highly improbable. Obviously the conversation about Maya had ended for now, and Lang was determined to explore other topics of interest.
Like her body. Or her irritating inability to resist his touch.
Persuasion Page 10
