Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75474 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75474 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
The foreclosure. Packing to move out. My precious business in shambles.
“I can’t. I can’t afford you anymore, Jordan. I don’t have the time for your drama. When I said I’m broke, I meant it. I need this job.”
His expression hardens, the soft dreamy look on his face vanishing in the blink of an eye. “I was paying you four thousand a week. How could you possibly be broke?” I try to push him away but he holds on tighter. “You expect me to be an open book while you pick and choose what I’m allowed to know?”
I can’t fault his logic. No matter what happened between us, he does deserve the truth.
“The money’s gone. I was paying off a debt.” My voice breaks, frustration bubbling to the surface. “That’s why I took the job in the first place.”
“What debt?”
What’s the point of protecting Tommy anymore. He’s gone, hopefully somewhere safe.
“What debt, Riley?” Jordan repeats, watching me with the intensity of a thousand suns while I decide how to explain, where to begin.
All of a sudden we’re moving. With his arm around my shoulders, he’s pushing me toward the entrance of the Ritz Carlton across the street.
“Where are we going?”
“I’m not doing this on a sidewalk in the middle of a snowstorm.”
“I just told you––”
“I know it was Tommy. I know he took the money from the drawer and you were protecting him. He sent me a letter”––Jordan makes a pained face ––“with an I.O.U. receipt inside.”
Just when I think I’ve seen and heard it all. “I’ll pay you back. If it takes me forever.”
“It’s not about the money.”
“Not for you, it’s not!”
He breathes out harshly, exasperated. “Riley…”
“No. Enough.” I push him away and actually accomplish it this time. He looks as surprised as I am. “You’re not going to handle me the way you handle everyone else. I was paying off a debt for Tommy. That’s why I took the job. I did it because I didn’t want to lose my properties and I ended up losing them anyway!”
Jordan blinks, seemingly processing everything I just unloaded on him. Then he frowns. “Baby, you’re going to get sick––”
“Like who? Like Lainey?” That sets him back. “The love of your life? I was ready to lie to myself that it was okay. She came long before me, and you guys had history and…and I get history––Tommy and I have history. He needed my help, and I couldn’t let him down.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Humorless laughter bursts out of me. I’m not even shaking anymore. Numbness has set in all the way to the bone. “Oh, right, yeah. Because you would’ve been so understanding.”
“That’s not fair.”
“No, it’s not. But neither were you. I loved you. I loved you and you dismissed me to your friend. You said I was a distraction––”
“That’s not…I didn’t mean it. You have to know that.”
He doesn’t even attempt to disguise the surprise on his face at my claim of love. If I had any doubts about the way he felt about me, I finally have my answer.
“You made me feel small…smaller than I’ve ever felt. I know I’m not in your league––I never pretended to be….but I’m not trash either.”
He blinks, shut down again. It’s best this way. A clean break. He never loved me. He cared about me. The affection was real––I wasn’t imagining that––but it was never love.
I’ve never felt ashamed about who I am. I don’t need much. I have––had a business I was proud of. I have people who love me.
“And I never want to feel that way again.”
I don’t stick around to see what he’ll say next. I walk away. This time, on my terms.
20
Chapter Twenty
Jordan
There are moments in life that leave a mark on a man. First love, first lay, first time you learn your parents aren’t perfect people. First time you realize you may have done irreparable damage to someone you love more than life itself. I’m at that stage of the learning curve. The worst part. You would think at thirty-three I would’ve learned that lesson already.
I’ve done everything I can short of tattooing an apology on my forehead. I’m even willing to negotiate the tattoo if she’s willing to listen. This is my last chance, the only hand I have left to play.
I board the train headed downtown. This feels like the right thing to do. That speech about not being in my league nearly killed me outright. I’ve never felt worse about myself, or more ashamed, and this is penance.
The doors close with a hiss and bodies jostle in place. That’s when I see the writing on the wall in a manner of speaking. Wall, door, doesn’t really matter. A cynical subway poet has replaced the Do Not Lean On Door sign with one that reads Do Not Fall In Love.