I rose up. “Not much to do here, man. Cold winters and hot-as-hell summers. Welcome to the Midwest.”
“Eh, I don’t mind. I’m looking forward to some new experiences.”
There was a girl in the frame next to the one of him on a surfboard. They looked to be at some kind of bar with a couple of beers in their hands.
“Your girl?” I asked him, staring at the pretty, dirty blonde.
Austin gazed warmly at the photo. “Yeah, that’s my Chloe. We decided to take a break, though, for obvious reasons. Neither of us wanted to be tied down so far away from each other. We’ll most likely make it back to each other, though.”
It was nice that he was okay with being so casual. If I learned anything from my experience with Lacey it was that I couldn’t put my whole heart into something, then step back from it unscathed. Lesson learned I guess.
He patted my chest. “You got a sheila?”
Heading over to my bed, I sat next to my box. I shrugged. “Summer romance.”
“Ah,” he said, lounging against his dresser. “She a hot one?”
I shook my head in dismay, thinking about that caramel skin that got me hot for her in all the right ways. “Gorgeous.”
“Well, that’s the beauty of college, mate. There are plenty of fish in the female gene pool. There’s actually a party tonight if you want to check out some action.” He grabbed a lime green flyer from his bed.
To my surprise the party was the very same one Cooper had invited me to. I guess I wouldn’t be taking Lacey to it, after all. Didn’t mean I couldn’t still go and enjoy myself.
I handed the flyer back to Austin. “Sure.”
“Great. You got some more stuff you need help with, or is that it?” He laughed, gesturing toward the single box I brought in.
I looked around myself and chuckled. I guess my things hadn’t arrived yet.
I rose up. “Nah. I can take care of the stuff in my car. I need the exercise. I’ve been kind of lazy this summer.”
“Ah,” he said, flexing a gargantuan muscle through his baby-sized tee. “I can help you out there, mate. We’ll put to good use that gym membership they charge us for with our tuition.”
I pounded his fist. “Sounds good.”
He went back to putting up his posters, and I headed out to the parking lot to get more boxes. As I was coming back, I stopped at the mailboxes. I got my mail changed over a couple of weeks ago. I hadn’t been receiving mail at home and knew I’d have a stack once I got here.
Placing my boxes down, I went to put my key into the locked mailbox. That was when I saw her.
In her Northwestern tee and jeans and wearing a high ponytail, Ashley Jameson walked toward me, waving her hand with a polite expression.
I had to do a double take. This was the first time I’d seen her completely covered up. Neither thigh was flashed my way, nor either breast exposed. She actually looked normal. Like she wasn’t trying to impress a guy by looking easy. The look suited her.
“Hey, Drake.” She approached with a small smile.
She even put the Marilyn Monroe act away with a normal sounding voice. What happened to this girl? “Hey, Ashley. You all moved in?”
“Yeah. Just headed to the campus coffee shop to get a drink. You?”
I pointed to the boxes at my feet. “Just getting started.”
She laughed. “You’re in for a long day, I guess. I started early this morning to avoid the chaos.” She gestured around the area to the mass of students with their moms and dads and their minivans.
“Very smart,” I said, eyeing her up and down. I couldn’t get over how normal she both looked and acted.
Dipping her chin, she studied her front. “What? Did I spill something on myself?”
I blinked, realizing I was caught. “Sorry. You just look different.”
She squinted at me with a small smile. “In a bad way?”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “Just different.”
“It’s funny how I get more of your attention now that I’m not dressed like a whore.”
She said it, not me. “I guess the new look just allows me to see more. Finally, see you.”
Her cheeks went a little red at that, and I hoped she didn’t take the statement in the wrong way. I still wasn’t into her, and even if I was, I still wasn’t over Lacey. Probably wouldn’t be for a while.
“I guess I realized I just had to grow up. We’re in college now.”
I knew what she meant. I had also done a lot of growing this summer, even if the end result had been heartache.
“Um, how are things with you? With Lacey?”
My eyebrows shot up. I knew for a fact my mom would never mention what happened this summer at the country club. So how would Ashley know Lacey and I were together? Cooper said he wouldn’t say anything. “I’m good. I suppose Lacey is as well. She no longer works for my family, so I can’t confirm that.”
Her expression went uneasy at my words. “So, you’re not seeing each other?”
“I’m sorry, Ashley, but I don’t recall ever mentioning that I was. Why do you think we were together?” I may not be with Lacey anymore, but I didn’t need her name floating around the country club.
She put her hands behind her back, making herself look very small. “I’m sorry, Drake. It’s my fault you guys aren’t together. I was stupid. I was stupid, selfish, and conceited. Those are some things I hope to correct this year.”
Now, I was really confused. “I don’t understand what you mean.”
“I saw the two of you at the hospital that night. Lacey’s mom shared a room with my grandmother.”
I blinked at her admission. “You saw us at the hospital?”
“Yeah. That’s why I had to leave the theater suddenly. Grandmother had a stroke. I saw the two of you, and I went crazy mad with jealousy, so I told your mother that I saw you two.”
Dear Mom left out that part. I never could figure out how she made the connection between Lacey and me when all she knew was that Ashley left the date early to tend to her grandmother. Who was to say Lacey and I didn’t leave the date separately? But for some reason Mom knew the truth. I guess I knew how. “No problem, Ashley. And Lacey and I . . .” I looked away, shaking my head. “I don’t know if we would have lasted anyway.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. She seemed so nice. I saw a lot of her at the hospital. Though, I made sure she didn’t see me. It’s sad about her mother.”
I swallowed hard. “Her mama?”
She narrowed her eyebrows. “Yeah. She died. Complications of her palliative treatments to ease her pain. You didn’t know?”
I felt like a semitruck crashed into me in that moment. Her mama died. She died, and I wasn’t there to hold Lacey after it happened. I wasn’t there to tell her everything would be okay. What kind of a person leaves someone when they were going through something like that? I knew exactly who: a selfish person, and that was me. Selfish to the end. I couldn’t believe I’d convinced myself that she’d call me if something went wrong. Of course she wouldn’t. That was who Lacey was. She was strong and dealt with life regardless of how she felt inside. I’d left her. I’d left her over a technicality when she needed me the most.
“Drake, are you okay?” Ashley put her hand on my arm.
It took me a few seconds before I could answer her. “Uh, yeah, and no I didn’t know. Thanks for telling me.”
She nodded once. “Hey, would you like to go get coffee with me? We could talk. Have a real conversation.”
My lips tipped up to the side. “That actually sounds nice. I’ll have to do a rain check with the move, though. Next time?”
She smiled. “Sure. See you around.” She patted me on the arm, then walked into the abyss of students on the quad.
As I watched her walk away, I couldn’t help but smile. She had come a long way, and I genuinely hoped her year went well for her.
The line gathering behind me at the mailboxes forced me to continue on with
my activities. I got my mail and picked up my boxes.
When I made it back to the room, the dorm was absent one Aussie mate. A note on his bed cancelled the search party.
Wanted to take a break and check out the pubs! Be back soon, mate.
I actually snorted. This guy was going to be fun. Anyway, the absence allowed me some privacy. I was going to call someone I should have called a while ago.
Lying down on the sheet-less bed with my mail next to me, I pressed the familiar number into my phone, then held the receiver to my ear. My heart beat a mile a minute at the words.
The number you have reached has been disconnected.
Disconnected? Disconnected! What happened? Why did she have her phone shut off?
The bile rose in my throat. What if she didn’t purposely shut it off? Her mama just passed. She’d be hard up on money after all the funeral expenses. And if she didn’t have the money to keep her phone on that meant one thing . . .
She didn’t take Father’s money.
In a frenzy, I rose up and all the mail surrounding me hit the floor. I had to try her house first. She might still be there. I only stopped because my gaze caught a name on a letter lying on the floor.
Lacey Douglas.
I snatched the envelope up and went to rip it open, but the recipient’s name stalled my fingers.
P. Truman Drake.
She was writing to my father, but why? I wasn’t surprised to see a letter for him in my mail and wouldn’t put it past the post office to accidentally send more. My father and I practically had the same name, after all. But why would she write to him and not me?
Not caring I was committing a federal crime, I ripped open the letter. When I pulled out the lined paper black ashes fell from it and onto the floor.
Weird.
Brushing off the soot, I was able to make the curvy words out.
Dear Mr. Drake,
Let me start by saying that I hope this letter does not see you well. I hate saying that because I wouldn’t normally wish ill will upon anyone, but people who have no soul and absolutely no heart should never live a full and healthy life. Not when people as beautiful as my mama are forced to live lives that are struggling in pain.
No, I don’t wish you well. The only wish I have for you is a bit of humility in your life, so that one day you can open your eyes and witness the amazing things you currently have. I’m sure you think I’m referring to your wealth. In a way, I am. Your children are your greatest treasure, but your racism and bigotry have blinded you, and allowed you to only see one of them. Your other child, Drake, is a great and beautiful man, who, despite the absence of love you’ve given him, turned out pretty all right. You’d see that if you opened your eyes to it. It’s a shame because you’ve already lost nineteen years, and I’m sure your ignorance will cause you to miss more.
I’m sure you believe I sent this letter maliciously, but in all actuality it was sent to return your check. I know the document was worthless after forty-eight hours, but the charred remains reflect better how I feel about you and your vindictiveness. It took me a good while to figure it out, but I did. How is it you said you sent Drake away to the country club to pick up Adele, but he still managed to catch you at my home? The country club is a fair distance away, Mr. Drake. Not only would Drake have had to go get Adele, but he also would have had to drop her off and then come to my house. These tasks would take a bit for time for anyone to complete, especially in the traffic of this city. And yet, he still managed to see you at my house. I ask you, did you plan this? Did you calculate the time it would have taken him to make his trip, and then come right before the exact moment Drake would have arrived at my house? I’m not one for conspiracy theories, Mr. Drake, but this sounds like one if I’d ever heard one.
I’ll admit it. You got to me. You came to me at the worse possible time when I was weak, vulnerable, and scared with an amount of money that made me hesitate. And in that moment of hesitation, Drake found me. He found me with something that would make him question his relationship with me. Something that would make him want to end a relationship with me.
Do you really hate the idea of Drake and me so much that you’d be willing to completely shatter his heart? I know of the status of the muscle, because he said he loved me. Well, I love him, too. So if his statement is true, I know his heart is shattered, because that is the current condition of mine.
I have no more words for you, so I will end this letter here. Let me rephrase what I just wrote: I do have more words, but I don’t want to waste anymore on you. My mama’s death showed me that life is too short. I’m only living for the things that matter. And you, Mr. Drake, don’t matter, so you get no more words from me.
Rot in hell,
Lacey Douglas
Oh, and P.S. – You didn’t win, asshole. Once I get settled here, I will contact Drake, and when I do, I will fight for him. I love him. I LOVE him. Read it, and I hope you weep.
I gazed up from the letter with my jaw slacked.
The girl actually managed to give me a hard on just from reading her words. I had to have her. I had to find her. She said she was “here.” Where was here? Here where?
I snatched up the return envelope, but there was no address under her name.
Forgetting about it, I took her letter and grabbed Austin’s posted note from his bed. On it, I wrote a note of my own.
Sorry, mate, but you’re going to have to find a new roomie. - Drake
Chapter Fifty
Lacey
I closed the door of my locker and left the dressing room with my satchel slung on my arm. My throat felt raw from rehearsal as I clicked in my black heels and matching stockings through the wide halls of the opera house, but I couldn’t resist the temptation to sneak in one last song as I passed the shining mahogany doors of the theater.
Biting on the metal of my lip ring, I pushed my way inside to the empty performance hall. Practice had ended long ago, and since I always took forever to change back into my street clothes no one was around. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t procrastinate just so I could have the stage all to myself for a few minutes.
The room was filled with maroon velvet. The carpet of the aisles, the cushion seats, and the boxed seating above were all drenched in the same elegance. The tone matched the gold elements of the intricately designed columns and posts throughout, and the chandelier cast an ethereal glow over the whole theater. Our theater here was small, just like the one back home, but the difference was the sounds that were made inside. This was a place of the opera; a place where I felt at home.
Making my way down the aisle, I quickly found my way to the stage. I got square in the center, the hot lights from above heating my cheeks. The empty pit below of the orchestra and the vacant seats ahead met my eyes. I couldn’t wait for opening night.
Tossing my satchel to my side, I spread out my arms in front of me and sang the notes of my opening number. During practice there were always so many people around that they absorbed the sound. When the theater was empty like this my voice reverberated, echoing throughout the room. I got chills every time.
Closing my lips, I dropped my hands slowly to the side. I jumped upon hearing applause from my right.
A guy came from stage right wearing a black turtleneck and bright smile.
“Très bien. Très bien,” he said during his applause as he strode my way.
My cheeks warmed. I didn’t know much French, but he seemed pleased enough with what I did.
He stopped at my side. “Very good, Lacey.”
I rubbed the back of my neck in awkwardness. I still had a hard time with compliments, and being the lead of the show, they came a lot from my fellow cast members. “Um, thanks.” My eyes flickered up as I sought the right word to respond to him. “I mean, merci. Sorry. I tend to speak better French when I’m singing.”
He grinned in response to my flustering. “The stage is where it matters most. The rest will catch up.”
His rich
accent was way better than mine. It made sense since I knew him to be a local. He worked backstage, so I saw him around all the time. I had met him before, but it was only in passing, so I couldn’t recall his name. I felt bad since he knew mine.
“You light up this stage whenever you are here.” He reached for my hand and gave it a single kiss.
My face blazed like the night I was forced to perform in Chicago. I needed to learn how to handle recognition better. Being noticed would only increase once the show opened, so I had to suck it up. “You’re very sweet. Thank you again.”
He stared at me with his crystal-blue eyes for a moment while he held my hand. “You do not know my name, do you?”
Feeling a bit sheepish, I let go of his hand. “Sorry. I’m horrible with names.”
He laughed. “It’s okay. The star of the show gets a pass. I’m Léon.” He put his hand to his chest, slightly bowing his head of blonde curls.
“Léon.” I pointed my finger to emphasize the word. “I will not forget again. I promise.”
Léon couldn’t stop smiling as he stared at me. “I hope not. It would break my heart if you did.”
Feeling awkward at his continued compliments, I picked up my bag from the floor to distract myself. “It was good re-meeting you, Léon. I’m actually just finishing up here.”
His delightful expression finally left him. “I’m sorry to hear this. I would love to take you out for a coffee. There’s a nice place around the corner. If you have time, of course.”
I was afraid of that. There was nothing wrong with this guy. He was actually very attractive, and I was sure any girl would agree. I didn’t consider myself single, though. My heart belonged to someone. “I’m sorry, Léon. I have an early practice tomorrow, and I need to get rested up for it.”
“Of course. The show opens soon. I understand. Can I ask for a rain check?”
“Sure,” I said, only because I didn’t want to be rude. I’d have to figure out how to avoid him.
The Space Between Page 27
