When We Fall

by Marquita Valentine

  Evangeline considers my words, then crosses her arms over her chest. “Sorry to have bothered you. I’ll go back to my room.”

  I swallow. “You can stay here as long as you like—in my office, that is.”

  “Thanks, but I’m tired.”

  I watch as she shuffles away, her shoulders hunched over and her arms coming around her middle. She’s barely holding on, I realize, but there’s really nothing I can do but listen, offer our services, and pray that the cops catch her husband.

  Chapter 11

  Jase

  It’s nearly midnight when Piper’s BMW pulls into the driveway. Because I’ve been watching for her all evening, it takes me all of three seconds to run outside and grab my girl up in a hug.

  “Hey, baby. I missed you. Barely got to talk to you at work.” I run my nose along her neck, breathing in the sweet scent of her perfume and honeysuckle-scented shampoo.

  Her arms go around my neck, squeezing me tight. “I missed you, too.”

  “How was the center?” I was so swamped by the time Piper arrived at the Tattoo Shop that I didn’t get the chance to ask. Then her first text to me after she got to her second job was that she would be working extra.

  She sighs, her warm breath puffing against my throat. “It’s work. I love it, but everything is so real. It’s not the training videos or classes I took.”

  “Real life rarely is.”

  “I know, but I feel so useless. The only thing I have to offer is to listen.”

  “Sometimes that’s all people need.”

  Changing the subject, she asks, “How was work after I left?”

  “Slammed until closing. Emmett and I made a corporate decision to hire two new people. They can rent their station from us and help pay for community supplies.”

  “That’s a very smart thing to do.”

  “You sound impressed that we came up with it.”

  “I am impressed.” She leans back in the circle of my arms. “It’s super-hard to run a business. I watched Rowan run Gardner’s Auto Repair for years. I don’t know how she did it.”

  “She’s a beast,” I say. A car goes by, music blaring from the speakers. “Fuck, it’s late. Too late for those assholes to be that loud. Man, I’m old.”

  Piper yawns. “Let’s go to bed.”

  “I’ll tuck you in tight.”

  “You’re not going to sleep with me?”

  “I want to, but we didn’t plan ahead, and my ego is terrified that you’ll fall asleep in the middle of it all.”

  Piper laughs. “I’m pretty sure I won’t fall asleep the first time we have sex. The second time, however, after ten at night, you’re at your own risk.”

  With a grin kicking up the corners of my mouth, I head inside, bringing her with me. “You are fun-ny, Ms. Ross.”

  “I try,” she quips before another yawn makes her mouth open wide. “How about tomorrow after I have dinner with my parents? Oh, wait, you have that party.”

  Fuck. I’d forgotten about the party and that chick I’d invited to it. “I’m canceling it.” I’ll send out a mass text before I hit the sack tonight.

  “Are you sure you won’t miss Georgia and her friends making your party so much better with their appearance?” Piper asks.

  “Who is this Georgia person and her friends?” I reply, knowing full well who she’s referring to. Damn, that was such an asshole move on my part.

  She slays me with a seductive smile. “Then you’re all mine tomorrow night, Mr. Simmons.”

  “If that’s what you want, then that’s what I want, too.” Doesn’t matter that I want her like a man dying of thirst wants a drop of water. Doesn’t matter that I’m starving for her. When it comes to making love to the woman of my dreams, I’ll allow her to take the lead.

  —

  The next morning, after tossing and turning in my bed all night, I make an omelet for Piper and me. Her doctor said to make sure she’s eating healthy food, so I’m following those directions to a T. Plus, I haven’t had a cigarette since we went to the doctor’s office. Not even a last-one-before-I-quit-for-real smoke.

  Just as I finish pouring two glasses of orange juice, Piper joins me in the kitchen, her hair swept up on both sides while the rest falls in soft curls over her shoulders. She’s wearing a pale blue dress that comes to her knees along with nude-colored shoes with low heels. As always, her purse matches her shoes. Only this time, she’s also carrying a large bag filled with…clothes?

  “What’s that for?” I take a bite of my toast and chase it down with some OJ.

  Piper sets the bag down and kisses my cheek. Suddenly, I get these images of our mornings always being like this, but I shake them away. Yeah, I want what she’s offering, but I’m not sure she really understands what she’s giving.

  “I’m taking them to Aristotle’s Closet.”

  “You like shopping there?” I ask.

  “Oh, I’m not shopping; they’re buying my clothes to sell in their shop. I have way too many clothes. It’s time to downsize.”

  I never thought she had too many clothes. “I kinda look forward to seeing what you’re wearing each day for work.”

  “Thank you.” She sits down at the table and begins to eat, making a moaning sound after the first bite of her omelet. “Heavenly. You have a gift in the kitchen.”

  I laugh at her compliment.

  Her brows crash together. “What’s so funny?”

  “That’s the first time anyone has ever complimented my cooking skills.”

  “That’s because the women you dated before didn’t appreciate you.”

  Truer words have never been spoken, but I didn’t exactly appreciate the women from my past, either. “I’m going to be really blunt and say that’s it completely odd to talk to a woman who isn’t intimidated by my past.”

  Piper gives me a small smile. “Oh, I’m intimidated all right, but it’s not going to prevent me from dating you.”

  “I’m counting on that.”

  —

  Once Piper leaves for work, I head inside the garage. My old Mustang sits in the middle with an enormous tarp over it. Grabbing the edge, I start lifting it away, making dust rise into the air. I think I sneeze about a hundred times before all is said and done, but once that beauty of my car is revealed, I don’t give a damn.

  Running my hand over the hood, I imagine the way her engine used to sound. How it used to purr for me when I would get her warmed up. Racing cars had been my life from the time I was old enough to drive. I loved the thrill of it. The excitement. The way other drivers would be intimidated by me.

  I had the respect of the neighborhood. There wasn’t a car I couldn’t beat, a fight I’d back down from, or a woman I couldn’t show a good time to.

  Damn, I was stupid. Stayed stupid for a while, too.

  Standing back a little, I stroke my jaw. Piper would make this car look good. She already makes my bike look good, but her prim little dresses aren’t built for it and I’m not about to ask her to change her ways. Beautifully wrapped gift, indeed.

  A throat clears and I look up. My sister is standing there with a serious look on her face.

  “Ro, what’s up?”

  “I was driving by and saw the door open. Thought I’d see what you’re up to.”

  “Thinking about bringing this beauty back.”

  “She runs good—I kept her up for you. Replaced the tires a month before you got out. Leather’s supple and—”

  I hold up one hand. “You don’t have to catalog what you did. I know you took care of her for me.” We both know I’m not just talking about my car.

  “Take care of what takes care of you first,” Rowan says.

  I walk around to the back of the car and lean against it. “I’m doing my best, Ro. Did you know her asthma was that bad?”

  Rowan nods slowly. “Yeah, she had an attack one night at the house. Seth and I were scared shitless that we’d have to call 9-1-1. But she got it under control.”

&n
bsp; “I’m thinking about selling the house.” Which is part of the reason why I tossed and turned all night. This house is my security. It’s paid for and the neighborhood is familiar. It’s close to Rowan. I can’t see myself without her nearby. Yet I can’t see myself without Piper, either.

  “Why?”

  “Piper’s doctor thinks it could be making her symptoms worse. She’s had two attacks in less than two weeks.”

  “You would move for her?” Rowan’s blue eyes go wide. “Things are that serious with y’all?”

  I shrug in answer. How can I tell my sister what I think if I can’t admit it to Piper first? “She might not stay with me—we both know that. If she ends up reconciling with her parents or deciding that she doesn’t like the life she’s chosen, then I’m pretty damn certain she’ll go back to The Oaks.”

  “To do what—be miserable with all the other Stepford wives?” Rowan narrows her eyes at me. “Why do you give her so little credit? She’s not slumming with you. You’re not some big secret for her. When I talked to her on the phone the other day, she sounded giddy and happy to be with you.”

  “Everything’s new. Shiny. Easy to be giddy and happy until the shit hits the fan, and it will. Sooner or later, her dad is going to find out about us and make me pay for touching his daughter.”

  “It’s not a crime to love Piper or to live with her—she’s a grown-ass woman. So unless her dad finds a way to arrest you for a crime, you’re safe,” she points out.

  “I realize that, but make a man pissed enough and he’ll do whatever he can to retaliate. It made his career, you know, when he arrested Seth and me. Not only did he get convictions on two punks, he broke up a street racing gang.” I roll my eyes. “He’ll think the only reason I’m dating Piper is to get back at him.”

  “Are you?”

  “Fuck no.” My jaw clenches. “Why would you even think that?”

  She grins at me. “Just checking.”

  “Brat.” I grab her up in a hug. She was so young when Mom died, and I missed seven years of her life while I was locked up. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?” She steps out of my embrace.

  “For being a fuckup. After Tony showed his ass, I should have let it go, but my pride wouldn’t let it.”

  “Jase. It’s not your fault. He pulled a gun on you. Broke your ribs and beat the crap out of Seth. What were you supposed to do—be a willing victim?”

  I had accidentally shot Tony that night. We’d wrestled with the gun and it had gone off in my hands. I flex my fingers. “Too bad I didn’t kill him. Would have saved those girls from getting hurt by him.”

  “Someone took care of that awhile back, so you have nothing to feel bad about,” she says. “Stop beating yourself up. Give Piper the benefit of the doubt. Quit worrying about her dad. Then come eat dinner at my house Sunday night.”

  “I’ll ask Piper if she wants to.”

  “She’ll say yes.” Rowan starts to walk back to her car, a sleek Camaro with a red racing stripe down the center. “See you later!”

  With a smile, I watch her drive off.

  “Stop beating yourself up. Give Piper the benefit of the doubt. Quit worrying about her dad,” I grumble.

  If only life was that easy.

  Piper

  Since I am only part-time help at the women’s shelter, we’ve scheduled my time so that I’m working only a couple of hours each morning, with weekends off. There is always someone on call for late nights, but Ginger prefers this to be one of the ladies who have more experience than I do.

  A very large part of me worries that I’m not cut out for this job. It’s only been two weeks, but each time my shift is over, I drive to a nearby park and cry in the privacy of my car. I feel so pathetic for crying. I should be strong and helpful.

  Which is why I had to come home and change in anticipation of dinner with my parents. I have to look beyond critique, although Mother will surely find something to say about my appearance.

  Gathering my hair into a low bun, I put in the last few pins and smooth down the front of my dress. It’s pretty yet not fancy and will be appropriate to wear for dinner this evening.

  Plus, the black color is slimming and the cut of the dress would look good on all types of figures, so she’ll have to find something else to critique. I think I look good. I think Jase would love to see and be seen with me while I wore this dress.

  Based on his reactions to what I wear each morning, he loves my clothes—even if they’re conservative and not as flashy as the clothes of the women he usually goes for. There’s nothing wrong with how they dress, but tight dresses and sequin tops look ridiculous on me. I’m aware it’s because I’ve dressed one way for so long, but old habits are hard to break and I actually like my clothes—especially my shoes. Never mattered how much I weighed to wear them.

  Plus, I always hated that last scene in Grease, when Sandy and Danny stop being themselves to be like what they thought the other wanted. If they loved each other, then why couldn’t they accept each other as is? I can’t imagine telling Jase the only way I would be with him is if he were to start donning suits and get rid of his tattoos. Although, I have to admit that I would not be opposed in the least to see him in a tux that gave glimpses of his tattoos.

  In fact, if he were to ever show up to a function dressed like that, I’d most likely pull him into the nearest dark corner and have my way with him.

  Slipping on a pair of hot pink kitten heels, I check my appearance one last time and grab the matching purse before racing outside to my car to drive to Aristotle’s Closet for my appointment.

  It takes me no time at all to get there, nor does it take very long to be waited on since I had to make an appointment with one of the buyers.

  “Wow,” she says, pulling out the first item—a cashmere sweater that’s the prettiest color blue. I hate to sell it since it matches Jase’s eyes perfectly. She glances at the tag and her eyes widen before she looks at me again. “Is this real?”

  “Yes, your website said that you were looking for high-quality items.”

  “Do you want cash or store credit?”

  “Cash, please.”

  She looks me up and down, then smirks. “Give me a minute.”

  I don’t like the look of that smirk, but I smile in return. “Take all the time you need.”

  After about ten minutes, she does some fancy finger dancing over the handheld calculator and gives me the most ridiculous offer.

  “I’m going to have to decline and ask for your manager.”

  “Why—it’s obvious you don’t need the money,” the woman sneers.

  “If I didn’t need or want the money, I wouldn’t have made an appointment with you”—I glance at her name tag—“Serena. Now, could I please speak with your manager?”

  Serena grumbles but she does as I ask. A few minutes later, a woman wearing a manager’s tag and a smart-looking cardigan set with her initials monogrammed over the breast pocket comes to the counter. I feel like she’s my fashion twin.

  “Hi, I’m Ebony. How can I help you?”

  “I’m not happy with the quote I was given for these clothes, and I realize that a store credit is worth more than straight-out cash, but this seems a little low to me. Is there any way you could do better?”

  Ebony sorts through the clothes while I admire the monogrammed headband she’s wearing to keep her curls out of her face, too. It’s the curse of every southern woman I know—we can’t help but put our initials on everything that will stay still long enough to let us.

  “Your headband is lovely.”

  “It’s from Carolina Pearls and Girls. Have you been there?”

  “No. Where is it?” I ask, although I know I won’t be able to shop there anytime soon.

  “In NoDa, off East Thirty-Sixth Street. My sister owns it. I work there on weekends to help her out and so she doesn’t have to hire a sitter.”

  “She’s lucky to have you.”

  Serena rolls he
r eyes, then walks away.

  Good riddance.

  Ebony pulls out a huge binder and begins to tally up the clothing. “This is way underpriced.” She frowns. “I have to apologize. Serena didn’t follow procedure. She admitted that she didn’t use the pricing guide and went by memory only.”

  “Mistakes happen.”

  “How do you feel about this?” She writes down a figure on a sales slip and hands it to me. “Does it seem fair to you?”

  It will more than cover what I had to take from savings in order to pay my rent, my phone bill, my doctor’s visit, and my prescription. I had been shocked to find that my parents had kicked me off their insurance plan without letting me know. But maybe that’s why my mother had called so many times before.

  Guess I should have answered.

  “That works for me. Thank you.”

  She finishes filling out the sales slips and asks me to sign it at the bottom, then she counts out my money and puts it into an envelope before handing it to me. “If you have more where that came from, we would love to have it, but can you wait until next month? We usually don’t get this caliber of fashion pieces all at once.”

  Next month, I would most likely be in the red again. No matter how carefully I save, something always comes up, and an oil change alone for my BMW is almost as much as what I spend on rent each month. Plus, Rowan mentioned that I would need a new set of tires soon.

  “I’ll be back next month.” I carefully place the envelope in my purse and then head outside, feeling a little better about my financial situation. Neither job had paid me yet, and I wasn’t sure how many hours Jase and Emmett would need me now that I was almost done with their books. They hadn’t used me at all to greet customers, so I assume they don’t need me for that.

  I probably don’t have the right look for the shop.

  Tipping up my chin, I get in my car and refuse to feel sorry for myself. However, I can’t help the guilt that pricks at me. I didn’t tell Jase the entire story about why I came here.

  For one, I don’t want him to feel sorry for me, or attempt to pay for my things like Rowan did while I lived with her and Seth. Two, I want to be my own woman, and if that means I have to give up some things to do it, then that’s how it has to be.