“I’m Devon,” he finally says, extending his right hand.
“Jade.” I shake his large, strong hand quickly.
We go silent, but I feel like his eyes see everything. His pale blue gaze is hard and unrelenting, and if he weren’t so clearly shaken, I’d be intimidated.
“You really put yourself out on a limb for me.”
I widen my eyes in surprise. “I didn’t do anything really.”
“You did everything by stepping in like that,” he says, his voice gravelly. “I can’t remember someone ever doing that for me in my life.”
“Oh.” Through my shirt fabric, I fidget with the black cross on my necklace. “Um, well, you didn’t deserve to be attacked. And I wanted to help you,” I finish lamely. “Fighting with one arm’s got to suck.”
“Hey, this sling will be coming off soon. I probably shouldn’t have bloodied my hand, though. I’m going to get in some trouble for that.” Then, all of a sudden, he smiles. It’s lopsided and real, and his whole face relaxes. His eyes light up the beach, and for the first time since I lost a place to call home, I forget my pain.
Because this guy…he’s gorgeous.
He’s the most beautiful human being I’ve ever laid eyes on. And living in the land of Hollywood, I’ve seen my share of attractive people. Yes, this guy must definitely be a model.
His hair is dark and messy underneath the hat. His skin is smooth and rugged, and his lips make me want to kiss them right now. My heart is beating in a way it never has before, and I don’t want it to stop. Which is probably why I can’t stop staring at him like a freak.
He stares back at me in a friendly way, and when he looks at my face, I’m sure he can see the wear and tear all over it from living on the streets of Los Angeles for the last four months.
“You’ve got a great right foot,” he says, smiling. “Can you teach me that?”
He says it flirtatiously, and I swallow hard. Because this guy and I live in opposite universes. And he’s got to know that. One look at my dirty clothes and tangled hair must make our differences abundantly clear.
But, maybe he’s been blinded by the fear of nearly being mugged because he reaches out his hand and gently touches my cheek as his blue eyes caress my face.
I have to bite down on the inside of my mouth to keep the choking sound in my throat from coming out.
Because he noticed me.
Through all of the months of living on the beach or in the nearby shelter, I’ve waffled between feeling stared at in a disparaging manner or intentionally ignored.
But this guy—he’s looking at me like he sees through my layers of dirt and shame and sadness. He’s looking at me like I’m still important.
“Do you need help?” he asks me in a low tone.
I jerk my head back from his hand. “What? No, I’m fine.”
“I know you are. You’re a fighter. And you’re beautiful. But everyone can use some support at times. Right?”
Before I can answer him, the older man in the suit rushes up to us, gives me a quick nod and a thank you, and grabs the Cougar guy’s arm. “Let’s get out of here before something else happens. I need to protect my clients. Look at your hand! I knew we shouldn’t walk down this side of the beach—this is where the homeless hang out,” he says with a pointed glance at me. “Best to stay away from them.”
There I go flinching again.
And Cougar guy notices. He pulls his arm back from the suit. “Leave us for a few minutes, Russ.”
Russ hesitates. “But this area isn’t safe…”
“I don’t give a shit about the area,” Devon says with obvious bite. “Leave us, please.”
His tone is authoritative and leaves no room for argument.
Russ reluctantly steps a few feet away, and I smile to myself as he nervously looks over his shoulder.
“He’s right, you know,” I say to Devon. “You’re better off going somewhere else.”
“What about you?” he asks me with a seriousness that takes me aback. “What are your plans?”
“I…am kind of between school and work at the moment.” Understatement of my life.
“Where do you want to go to school?”
“Harvard.” It just pops out. That’s always been my dream, but I’ve started to give up on it ever happening.
“Cool. I’m sure you’ll get there. So maybe sometime we could hang…”
“Hey!” His agent interrupts his cute attempt to flirt with me. “You’re needed now! We’re already late!”
Devon’s face contorts like he’s conflicted. “I really have to go. I’m sorry.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pen and torn piece of paper. He scribbles something on the paper and hands it to me. “Here’s my cell number. If you ever need anything…”
“Thanks.” I don’t even have a phone, but I appreciate the gesture.
As I’m pocketing the paper, he motions to someone behind me. I turn as the other suit, the one who had his head on a swivel, hastens up to us.
“Jade needs a job. Make sure she gets one. A good, stable one,” Devon says firmly to the man.
The man nods vigorously. “Not a problem, sir.”
Sir? Who is this Devon guy?
“And anything else she needs too.” He glances at me. “Housing? Russ here specializes in real estate.”
“Hey, you don’t have to take pity on me,” I protest. “I’m really okay.”
Even though I’m not.
“It’s not pity,” Devon says, his eyes fixing on mine. “You just saved me from a mugging. I owe you.”
“You don’t owe me anything,” I say.
“I do.” He leans in close to me and puts his hand gently on my waist as he murmurs in my ear, “And I always pay up.”
I suck in a breath, the power of his energy overwhelming me. But then he’s dragged backward as the older suit wraps his hand around his bicep and barks at him, “Okay, let’s go. That’s enough dicking around.”
Devon winks at me. “Take care of yourself, Jade,” and then he turns and lets the guy hustle him off the beach path and up toward the street.
As I stare after them, unable to get his blue eyes and gorgeous face out of my head, the swivel-headed man looks me up and down.
I cringe beneath his judgmental stare, but I can’t help marveling at his beautiful suit, his clean styled hair, his shifty bright eyes, and his shoes that look like they couldn’t stand to have a speck of sand on them.
“That kid’s going to be a huge star soon,” he says in a curt tone. “And those losers nearly killed him.”
I shake my head. “Those guys aren’t murderers. I can show you some murderers if you’d like. They’re down the way here, a few blocks south.” I signal for him to follow me, but he puts up his hand.
“I think I’ve seen enough criminal activity for one day,” he assures me. “I didn’t want to come to this area, but the kid insisted he’d heard about this part of the beach and wanted to look around. So, you need a place to live, huh?”
I nod.
“I’m afraid I can’t help you out. The places I deal in don’t accept just anyone.” He scans me again with a scowl, and I look with him—at my dirty fingernails, three-day-old outfit, and no prospects for a decent meal until tomorrow at the Soup Kitchen.
“How old are you?”
“Seventeen.”
He hands me a card. “I know this production company is looking for temporary work for the next week. It’s running errands, that sort of thing. The pay isn’t much, and you’ll have to work like a dog, but it’s honest work. The address is on the card. Get a shower and a nice outfit.”
I have no money to buy anything, let alone something nice. But, I’ll have to find a way. Somehow, some way, I have to. This guy, as jerky as he is, is giving me a shot because Devon asked him to. And I can’t miss what could be my one chance to get off the streets.
As the suit waves goodbye and I start walking back to Mariah and Darren, I feel something bu
lky in my back pocket.
But I put the business card and piece of paper in my front pocket.
I stick my hand into my back pocket and stop walking in the middle of the sandy beach. Because what I’m feeling is thick, as thick as…
I pull the wad out of my pocket and stare at it. Bills. Lots of bills.
How the hell did…
I flash back to how Devon reached for my waist and seemed to linger. I was so caught up in his amazing scent, that woodsy cologne or aftershave he had on, that I lost focus on his hand. He must have slipped the bills into my pocket then.
I sink down to my knees on the sand and use my legs to hide the money as I count it.
More than enough to buy myself a new outfit for my new job. I could buy a week’s worth of outfits with this money. I could even put some away for my rent deposit.
Hot tears hit my eyes.
He paid up. Just like he said he would.
And if I ever see him again, I swear I’ll return the favor.
2
Present Day
I’m late to meet my mom and sister for dinner, but I grab the phone when I see who it is.
“Paris!” I say as I run a brush through my bob-length hair with my free hand. “How are you?”
“Can’t wait to see you next weekend when we fly out to L.A., new masters’ graduate!” my best friend from Harvard undergrad squeals through the line. “Cali and I are both here—can I put you on speaker?”
“Of course! Hey Cali!” I say. I put down my brush and reach for my purse.
“Congratulations, Jade,” she says warmly. “I’m so happy for you—you worked so hard for this.”
That I did. And I have the debt to show for it. But I don’t want to talk about things that stress me out.
“JJ, I want Cali to give you a tarot reading as a graduation present,” Paris says quickly. “And it can’t wait until next weekend.”
“Of course it can,” Cali says. “Jade, don’t let her enthusiasm force you into a reading.”
I laugh. “Give me the reading, California,” I say as I walk through my tiny apartment and grab my keys off the hook by the door. “You and I both know Paris won’t let up until you have.”
“I had a feeling you’d say that,” Cali says, and I can hear the smile in her voice. “But are you sure? If you’re not interested…”
“I actually am. I’d like to know what my post-grad life will be like.”
I lock up my apartment and pass through my yoga studio on the way to my car outside. By the time I’m inside the car, I hear the shuffling of cards through the phone, a few muttered words I can’t make out, and then Cali says…
“I’m seeing a big change on the horizon. Almost like the end of something and the beginning of something new.”
“What does that mean?” I ask, feeling the sweat start on my palms.
“I’m not sure. But it’s got to do with a new home maybe? I see an ocean view, almost as if looking from a window. And a man.”
“I have no idea about the ocean view…but a man?” I clutch at the phone. “Don’t say something so out of my realm, Cali. You know I don’t like relationships.”
I hear more shuffling. “The Love card is very strong. But the energy is of a powerful physical attraction as well. So I think it’s romantic. And possibly…someone from the past.”
“An ex?” I say incredulously. “I don’t have any exes worth mentioning again.”
“But yay!” Paris, ever the optimist, says happily. “You’ll find someone soon, and the three of us can triple date!”
“With me and my mystery man, you mean.” I blow out a breath. “This is ridiculous. I have a new client who will take up all of my time for the next month. And I’ve got my yoga studio. And that’s it. No men, no new home, no lusting after someone, and no time.”
Silence hits the line. But I know Paris. I can practically hear her memorizing the moment. Sure enough, I’ve just started my car when she says—
“Remember this moment, Jade. You, me, and Cali on the phone, right before you begin the rest of your life.”
3
The gorgeous guy one table over doesn’t like his date.
His square jaw is tensed like he’s biting on bone, and he keeps running his hand through his dark, short, messily-styled hair. His suit jacket is draped casually over the back of his chair. He keeps his gaze mostly focused on his date, and I would give him points for trying to be polite, but his attempts to nod at what she says are lame AF. It’s obvious he’s texting on his phone underneath the tablecloth, and she’s too enamored with him to notice. She’s pretty, if you like porcelain skin and platinum-blond hair, which I think most men do. But she’s not doing it for him for whatever reason.
He’s so obvious about it that I’m watching him instead of my restaurant companions.
I can’t see anything but his profile, though, which is frustrating, because something about him makes me want to see more. And to know more. He’s…familiar, and I wonder if I knew him from high school. I grew up in southern California, and running into old acquaintances in L.A. is par for the course.
But while normally I try to hide from my past, this guy is different somehow. He has me curious. Intensely curious, if I’m honest with myself, and I shift to my right, trying like hell to get a look at his face. It’s no use, though—between the shadowy lighting of the restaurant and the way he’s angled in his chair, all I can see is his strong jawline, day-old facial hair, and dark lashes as he flicks his gaze between his date and his phone. All of which is a nice distraction because my mom and sister bug me on a good day.
Tonight, at a fancy Italian dinner that they claimed would be about celebrating my graduation with a Master of Arts degree in yoga studies? Mom and Melody are in rare form.
“Guess what? I’m engaged and getting married in two weeks!” Melody announces out of the fucking blue.
I jerk my head away from Gorgeous Guy—who I’m pretty sure has started playing a game on his phone—and turn to face her. “What?!”
Mom crosses herself. “Thank you, Jesus. Finally, one of my daughters is doing something with her life.”
“Did you know this?” I ask my mother. “Is this why you insisted I ‘drop everything’ and meet you for dinner tonight?”
Mom and Melody exchange guilty looks.
Despite us all living in southern California, I can normally never get my mother and sister to meet up, even for my graduation. I go visit them in Orange County, but they hate L.A. Even as we sit here they’ve been complaining about Los Angeles traffic, and how out of the way my beach neighborhood is. Santa Monica is so far from all the cool shopping, which is why they asked me to drive into Beverly Hills for dinner tonight.
Not that any of us are wealthy, but Mom’s discovered the art of dating men with money. Her latest one loves to give her his credit card to “treat her and her three kids.” My brother wasn’t free tonight, so it’s just Melody and me.
And because it’s a fancy place, Mom insisted I dress up. So here I am, wearing a nice black dress that hugs my thin figure and lands just above the knee. The scoop neck shows just a hint of cleavage, and my black cross necklace matches the dress perfectly. My hair is blunt cut and at chin level, which highlights my exposed neck and throat.
I like my outfit although the first thing Melody said when she saw me was, “All black. Again. Why don’t you show some color, JJ?”
I focus on my younger sister now. “Why didn’t you tell me about this before?”
Melody’s model features are set in a stubborn line. Her mouth is flat, and her blue eyes stare me down. “I didn’t want to. I was afraid you’d try to talk me out of it.”
“And you would have been right. You’re only twenty-one,” I say to her. “What about college?”
“I’m dropping out.”
“Oh, Mel.” I lean my chin on my hand. “Why?”
“Why not?” She shrugs. “I want to get married and become a wife. And my boo is
such a good guy. Sure, he’s got his demons, but I love him.”
“You two have only been together three months, and you’ve broken up twice already!” I throw up my hands. “What about that spells forever?”
Melody’s smile slips further until she’s frowning. “You’re always so negative, JJ.”
“I’m a realist, Melody.”
“Well, I’m a romantic.” She bops her head of long blond hair that’s the same cut and color as our mother’s.
“And thank God somebody is,” Mom interjects. “Jade, be happy for her. As her only sister, you’ll be the maid of honor, after all.”
Melody, like my brother, Cole, is technically my half-sibling. They share the same father, the one Mom loved before his untimely death years ago, whereas my father is the guy Mom “never liked except for the ten minutes we slept together” in her words. When Mom decided three kids was one too many for her to raise on her own, she sent me to live with my father in a coastal neighborhood of Los Angeles.
For a little while, living with Dad was good, until it wasn’t, and he and I both ended up living on the streets. Then, he abandoned me one night at a shelter, and I was on my own. Running back to my mother was not an option—she’d made it clear that I couldn’t return to her as soon as I left her house at sixteen.
But once I made it through Harvard on my own and then opened up my yoga studio and felt the stability I’d been so desperate for, I decided to reach back out.
When she found out she didn’t have to support me at all, Mom welcomed me back into the fold, and I worked to regain the bond I used to have with my siblings.
Cole and I immediately returned to being close again. Melody and I—not so much. I’ve tried to take her under my wing and help her out, but she’s got a lot of my mother’s influence, and she tends to do the opposite of what’s best for her. But they’re the only family I’ve got left, and I do my best to focus on their good qualities. Some days, that’s easier said than done.
I manage a congrats to Melody, but before I can say anything more, she tells me that the wedding spectacle is going to be three full days of scheduled activities.
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