Blank Space (Dirty South Book 1)

by Alla Kar

  He didn’t seem to miss a beat, and it made me feel a little better. “Your mother has been helping me set up a fundraiser for our company the past few weeks. That’s not really your dad’s thing.”

  Oh, that made sense. She was always helping people with charities and fundraisers. Even though it was just for the credit, not the cause. I nodded and then crinkled my nose. “I don’t know if I like you talkin’ to my mom. She’s kind of a bitch.”

  Cash let out a long breath and smiled over at me. “That’s one thing I’ll never disagree with you on, Peach. She definitely a bitch.”

  “You gonna call her back?”

  Cash tossed me a look. “Maybe tomorrow. Tonight I have plans.”

  “And what may those be?”

  He grinned. “Don’t tell me you forgot I won the race. And I think you know exactly what I want.”

  I shivered. I’d never been more willing to lose in my life.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Cash

  “And then the woman had the audacity to ask me who I was?”

  Goddammit, this woman would make a nun contemplate suicide. She’d only talked about herself since we sat down at the table. Luna had brought out the best-looking crab legs I’d ever seen, and she still hadn’t shut her trap.

  Sydney hadn’t said more than two words since we’d sat down at her parent’s table. There had been a three-hour debate the night before about whether to go or not. But I knew in the end; it would be best to go.

  After her mother had called me at the beginning of the week, I’d been on edge. I hated looking into her eyes and lying, and suddenly, I understood where Joey was coming from. This was what he’d been afraid of from the beginning.

  “Cash?”

  I looked over at Mrs. Henry. She’d bent over the table like she’d been trying to get my attention. “Ma’am?”

  She gave me a narrowed look. “I was asking if you two had any plans for the holidays. We love Thanksgiving around here. Luna prepares such a wonderful feast for us every year.”

  Glancing over at Sydney, I noticed she stared at her interlaced fingers in her lap. Her eyebrows pulled down in the middle, and a frown shadowed her mouth. I wasn’t sure exactly what her mother had said, hell, I’d been ignoring her for most of the evening.

  Maybe I’d missed something.

  “I need to use the restroom,” Sydney mumbled, keeping her head down as she walked swiftly out of the room. She took the long narrowed hallway toward the right, and I strained to hear the sound of her feet against the hardwood.

  When I looked back, Mrs. Henry was still staring at me, and Mr. Henry’s eyes were at half-mast. I’d guessed that was how he coped with living with her for all those years—ignoring the shit out of her.

  “So, you didn’t answer,” she pushed. “Any plans?”

  Yeah, but not with her. I’d planned to start a new tradition—with Sydney. And her mother wasn’t included. “Not sure. I need to go to the restroom too; I’ll be right back.”

  I got up and left before she could respond. I’d taken the hallway, following where Sydney had just disappeared. Not knowing the house, I walked slowly, stopping by a couple of doors before I heard her voice, but I stopped before I pushed through what I assumed was the swinging door that led into the kitchen.

  “I don’t understand,” she whispered.

  There wasn’t anyone but Luna in the house, and I expected it was her answering. I’d only heard her speak a few times, to mumble obscenities at Mr. Henry under her breath. “I’m sure she’s just trying, Sweetie.”

  Sydney scoffed. “Since when does she try, Luna? They never invited me before this. Since he died, they haven’t invited me to anything.”

  What the fuck? The next thing I heard was her quiet sobs, and the soothing sound of Luna’s voice. A voice that sounded a lot like my mother’s when I was young. When I’d scraped my knee, broken my arm and failed my first test. Not the sound of our maid. It burned me deep knowing that she never had that from the one person who was supposed to love her.

  Her mother didn’t give a damn about anyone other than herself. She may have lost a child, but she still had one she barely acknowledged. In reality she’d lost Ryder, but she didn’t even know she was also losing the only one she had left.

  Something stung the back of my mind, and a vague memory lightly danced around in my head, but I couldn’t pull it out. I’d heard soft cries like that before, a deeply-rooted hurt. I heard a chair scrape across the floor from the dining room. I figured it was Mrs. Henry. To avoid her seeing me eavesdrop, I walked into the kitchen. Sydney sat on the kitchen island, her hands covering her face. Luna held her close.

  When the door swung shut, they both looked my way. Sydney hurried to wipe her eyes. “I didn’t realize I’d been gone so long,” she whispered, jumping down to the floor.

  I stepped forward until I was standing in front of her. Luna took a step back, but she never looked away from me, like she waited to see what I would do.

  “Peach,” I whispered, placing my hands on her shoulders. “We’re not doin’ anything with your parents over the holidays unless you want to. I think we need to make our own traditions. Starting this Thanksgiving.”

  Sydney opened her mouth, but nothing came out. I couldn’t understand her face, and I hated the feeling of not knowing how she felt. I stepped closer, running my thumb across her lower lip. “Your parents do not deserve your time. They are so absorbed with their own life, and how much money they have, that they don’t see you’re slowly slipping away from them. You deserve better than that. I want to show you that. Please, let me know when you’re feelin’ like this. I want to help.”

  She swallowed hard, the tears in her eyes had evaporated, and the frown that’d etched her face had faded. “She’s always loved Ryder more,” she whispered. “And when he died—it worsened. She had a reason to hate me now. She blames me.”

  Her mother’s heels clicked against the floor. “Where did y’all go?”

  I glanced back over my shoulder toward the door, and then at Luna, she smiled ear-to-ear. “Is there a back way out of here?”

  Luna lifted a brow and pointed toward a door to the left. “Leads to the back porch. I’ll show you out.”

  I grasped Sydney’s waist, pulling her along toward the door. Her mother’s voice drifted away, and it was the most wonderful feeling I’d ever had.

  Joey jumped as we got into the limo. “Y’all are back early,” he said through a yawn.

  “Hurry,” I said, glancing over my shoulder.

  Sydney giggled, and I loved seeing the light in her eyes. There hadn’t been any at the dining table.

  Joey pulled out of the driveway with a squeal of tires. The dust from the gravel stirred up leaving a tornado in our place. Sydney reached over, her hand resting on top of my own. “Thank you.”

  I leaned in to kiss her, hiding the anger I felt toward her family. The anger I felt toward myself. I’d made a deal with the damn devil, and it was to further myself. Not that I didn’t think about the outcome before I agreed, I did, that’s what made it so much worse.

  “Joey, take me by the office. I need to make sure my laptop is locked.”

  Joey gave me a look in the review mirror but didn’t say anything. We rode toward my office in silence. There was too much on my mind to try to speak. I was scared all of my thoughts would spew out like lava because they already burned my chest.

  Joey pulled up to the front.

  I looked up at the tall building, and my gut felt like fire. I turned to my left and pressed my ear against hers. “I’ll be right back, Peach.”

  She nodded and settled into the seat. “I’ll keep the seat warm for you.”

  I grinned, and got out quickly, opening the front doors, I raced to the security pad and typed in my code. The building was completely quiet, which made the entire situation worse. My thoughts vibrated in my head, loudly, like a high-school band.

  My office light hurt my eyes and brought m
y entire future to life. Ash and I had always talked about the business being our baby because we would never settle down and have kids. But that seemed so—wrong now.

  I made my way toward the desk, sitting in my chair like every morning. Except this time, I opened my side drawer and dug through until I had the check her mother had given me as collateral in my hands. I knew that she could offer me another one, but it felt right to rip it up.

  I didn’t want her money. I didn’t want to be in any kind of agreement with her. Fuck, I didn’t want to be in an agreement with Sydney anymore either. I wanted her with me because she wanted to be here. I tore the check into tiny pieces until nothing on it could be made out.

  Only nothing changed the way I felt on the inside. The pressure was still suffocating me. I needed to let her out of our contract too, and tell her mother where to shove our agreement. And I planned to.

  When I got back down to the limo, Sydney’s eyes were closed. Her mouth parted a bit, which I’d found out she did when she was super tired.

  I tried not to contemplate everything on the way home. Thinking about everything always made me feel like I couldn’t breathe. Joey opened the back door for me when we stopped, and I picked her up, bringing her to my chest.

  I loved the feel of her against me; her soft breath against my face and the smell of her skin. It wasn’t like anything I’d ever felt before.

  Instead of taking her to her bed, I took her upstairs with me. I wanted to feel her against me for the night. I easily took off her shoes and slowly pulled her clothes off. She stirred when her shirt got caught on her chin, but after a minute fell back to sleep.

  After I’d gotten her into one of my shirts, I pulled one of my plush blankets over us. She rolled on her side, her ass pressing against me. I wanted to erase what I’d done, start over fresh with her. But I knew I couldn’t. The best I could do was be real with her from here on out. And hope that she didn’t find out what I’d almost done.

  The fucking money-driven beast I’d become. If she did find out—she may not forgive me, and that scared me more than losing my business ever did.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Sydney

  “You’ve been practicing,” I said to one of my students.

  His brown eyes lit up underneath his dark hoodie. I’d never dressed in dark or baggy clothes to hide myself, but I’d felt like that on the inside. Seeing this kid grow over the last few weeks had really made my heart explode. “My mom’s been letting me paint on our front porch. I like the colors of the sunset. And the feeling. It makes things come to me easier.”

  I nodded, patting his shoulder. “You can stay here as long as you want. Just lock my door on the way out. I have somewhere I need to be today. Just tell Mr. Scott you’re leaving if he’s not at the front desk, okay?”

  He nodded, going back to his canvas. I gathered my things in a hurry. I’d spent way longer with my class today on the concept of capturing an image. I knew Joey waited on the corner, so it was no surprise when I opened the front doors of the gallery and saw him waiting for me.

  Frankie had texted me that she needed to talk to me ASAP, and I couldn’t wait to get to the office so I could eat my lunch and call her. Since I’d finished the mural in the office, I planned on sketching ideas in Cash’s office for the one in Dallas.

  “Hey Joey,” I said.

  He gave me a clipped nod while opening the back door. I sighed, scooted in, and immediately rolled down the divider that he always persisted on keeping up.

  When he got in, I noticed him incline his head to me, but he started the limo anyway. I reached for my book bag. “So, how have things been?”

  “Fine.”

  I sighed, digging around for my sketchbook. “Just fine? I noticed Cash and you haven’t been talking much. Anything goin’ on?”

  Joey kept his eyes on the road, not that I could see them behind his aviators. Silence.

  Huffing, I rolled my eyes. I’d have a better chance asking Cash about it. “Wait,” I said. “I think I left my sketchbook at the house. Can you take me there first?”

  Joey made the first left he saw. “Yes ma’am. I’ll call and tell Cash.”

  I listened to him tell Cash while trying to remember where I’d left it. I’d spent a lot of Saturday and Sunday in the house. When I wasn’t underneath Cash, I’d been with him in his office. His office. I’d sketched him while he worked on his laptop. All fine lines and chiseled jaw. I’d always known he was beautiful, but it wasn’t until I’d begun to sketch him that I realized how flawless his face was. There wasn’t anything that I’d change on him. The scar I’d noticed on his jaw made him look tough, and it surprised me that he didn’t remember where it had come from.

  “Sydney!”

  I jumped, bringing my book bag to my chest. “Shit, sorry. What is it?”

  Joey lifted a brow over his sunglasses. “We’re here. Do you want me to go get it?”

  I shook my head. “I can do it. I’ll be right back.”

  I scurried out of the limo, and up the stairs to the front doors. Judging by the smell, Gloria was in the kitchen, and I wished I could bathe in the holy goodness. The stairs were on the verge of kicking my ass when I made it to the top. Cash’s office door was cracked, so I pushed it in, remembering all of the memories from this weekend. He’d pressed himself between my waiting legs on his desk. His stapler, pens, and paperwork still littered the floor.

  Heat crept up my neck at the memory of his wide palms on my upper thighs. His sweet mouth tasting my flesh for hours. I’d only wanted him to never stop. I couldn’t imagine anything that would make my blood stop pumping wildly for him.

  Underneath the scattered papers under his desk I saw the corner of my sketchbook sticking out. I hurried to grab it, only to bump his laptop on the way up.

  I froze, scared I’d messed it up, when his e-mail brightened the screen. I let out a loud breath when I noticed something—odd. Not even odd—infuriating. My mother’s name was in the last few e-mails he’d received. Why would my mother be e-mailing him? Maybe it was the charity event he’d been talking about?

  Biting the corner of my lip, I sat my sketchbook down and took a seat in his chair. I felt like a creeper going through his things, but at the same time, I was scared to even open it. A weird sense of nerves settled low in my stomach, and my fingers began to twitch as I double-clicked the e-mail.

  Time seemed to stop; all my breath was sucked from my body. I read over the words, trying to make sense of them at first. But then I caught myself trying to make sense of them in another way.

  While it looked as if you two had a splendid time, darlin’, I’d appreciate if you took her somewhere the media could get a whiff.

  Good publicity was the terms, not a good time.

  Good publicity was the terms, not a good time. Terms? What terms? Bile scorched my throat, running a marathon to my mouth. Had my mother paid Cash to date me? My mind went into panic mode, frantically flipping through the files of my brain, reviewing every memory—every kiss—every touch—until I couldn’t take it anymore.

  I shoved myself away from the computer desk, running down the stairs toward the guest house. Nothing made sense in my head. My only logical thought was that I needed to leave—now. Before he came home and talked to me. Talking to him seemed like the worst thing in the world—my worst nightmare. I gathered my clothes, shoes, and Nyla. She whined as I ran with her underneath my arm. I’d left things, but they were things that could be replaced. Things that would only remind me of this place.

  Joey got out of the car when I rounded the corner. He swiped his glasses off his face and hurried toward me. “What’s wrong? Is someone in the house? Are you okay?”

  I couldn’t speak; emotion held my mouth closed. I shook my head slowly, swallowing the hurt for a moment. “I just want to go home. Take me home—now.”

  His brow furrowed, and I stopped him when he reached for his cellphone. “No!” I screamed. “Don’t call him. Please,” I beg
ged. “Just take me home.”

  Joey’s brows pulled down in a frustrated look. He opened his mouth several times before nodding and helping me load my baggage. I tried to keep a close eye on him as we drove, making sure he didn’t try to text Cash. He didn’t.

  After several minutes, I took comfort in knowing he wouldn’t contact him and closed my eyes. But every time I did, Cash’s eyes flooded my mind. How in the fuck had I fallen for this? Why would I have thought a man so—perfect would fall for me? Of course it was my mother. Of course, he was a dick. Why hadn’t I seen it? There was a charity, all right: it was me. I was the charity.

  I’d wiped away the tears by the time Joey stopped and helped me out of the car. He didn’t say a word as he carried my luggage up the stairs to my apartment. I went to dig for my keys in my purse when Joey’s hand stopped me. “What do you want me to tell him, Sydney? You know he isn’t gonna let you go, right?”

  I met his gaze and nodded. Cash didn’t care about me, Joey was wrong. But I didn’t want to embarrass myself and say it. “Tell him I said, fuck him.”

  Frankie grabbed all of the Kleenex off of the couch, tossed them in the wastebasket, and came back to stand in front of me. Her hands were fists on her hips. “Get up. We’re going out. I refuse to let you cry yourself to sleep over him. He isn’t worth it.”

  I groaned, rolled over, and pulled my blanket over my face. I knew crying wouldn’t help anything. It wouldn’t take back what he’d done, or make him care, but it hurt so bad. I trusted Cash one hundred percent. Who was I kidding? All of me did. But not now. Not anymore.

  “I just want to sleep, Frankie.”

  She scoffed, snatching my blanket, and I immediately took the fetal position. “You’ve slept all day, Syd. Let’s go get shitfaced and forget these trifling men.”

  Getting shitfaced did sound somewhat appealing. But that would mean I needed to move, and moving wasn’t in the game plan at the moment. “Frankie—”