I forced myself to meet his eyes. “I was a dumb kid, Christian. I didn’t want to care about anyone but myself. And then later, I didn’t want to fail, so I didn’t even try.”
“You still failed.”
“No. I just haven’t done it right yet,” I replied, a small smile playing on my lips.
He rolled his eyes, but he wasn’t leaving.
I wanted to be a man Christian could look up to. I wanted to show him that mistakes can be made but so can amends. I would never not look him in the eye again, and I would never let him think he wasn’t wanted.
“I’m not asking you to forgive me or act like the past fourteen years didn’t happen,” I told him.
He pinned me with stern eyes. “Then what do you want?”
For a moment I blinked long and hard, hating that question. I knew exactly what I wanted, but I feared there would come a day when I had to admit I couldn’t have all of it.
But he was first. He always had to be first. Before anything or anyone.
He may not want me as a father, and he may never forgive me, but what I had right here, right now, I had to keep.
I looked at him and spoke gently. “I want to play pool.”
NINETEEN
EASTON
Patrick held the door to the Range Rover open for me, and I climbed inside, adjusting the short dress Tyler had sent to me this morning.
But then I shot out my hand, pressing against the door to keep it from closing. “Wait, please.”
Stepping back down out of the car, I jetted up the stairs to my apartment and twisted the doorknob, pushing at the door to check its security. Inserting each of my keys into the three separate dead bolts, I double-checked to make sure they were all locked.
I’d come home from school yesterday to find an upstairs window open, and I’d been running through the house all day, doing my Saturday cleaning and checking the rooms two or three times to make sure everything was in its place. Pillows sitting two to a corner on the couch, cabinet contents in alphabetical order, shoestrings tucked neatly inside my tennis shoes.
Maybe I’d left the window open. We’d had a nice evening after I got home from Sucré with Tyler and Christian. Maybe I’d opened it.
But no, I wouldn’t have left it open while I slept.
I climbed back in the car, Patrick shutting the door behind me and walking around the back to the driver’s door.
I rubbed my hand over my heart and took some deep breaths. The fact was, I’d gotten careless. My head was either on school and my work or it was consumed with Tyler. The flirty text he’d sent me or the glimpse I’d caught of him picking up Christian at school… I was constantly distracted, and I may very well have left the window and cabinets open.
But it still didn’t make sense. Returning things to their place, taking a last glance around a room before I left to make sure nothing was out of order – these habits were second nature to me. I did them without having to think about it.
Could someone have been in my house?
Fear gripped me, thinking about all those years ago, when very much the same thing had happened.
It wasn’t possible.
I forced myself to sit back in the seat and smooth my hand down my dress, willing the worried expression off my face as I relaxed my muscles.
No. Everything was fine.
I looked down at the dress that hugged my thighs, concentrating on how good it felt, and tried to be excited for the evening ahead.
I didn’t often dress up for nights out, and the outfit was like a second skin. I was surprised Tyler knew my size.
But of course he knew my body.
This morning Patrick had delivered a box with the dress and a note saying he’d have Patrick pick me up at ten. I’d been annoyed on several levels. For one, he didn’t ask; he directed. And second, he had bought me an outfit to wear.
The dress was black, long-sleeved, short and tight. It also featured goldlike jewels around the neck and on the straps running vertically down my naked back. I’d pulled my hair up in a sexy bun, and even though the dress was provocative, it wasn’t distasteful.
After realizing that this meant he was taking me out, I gave in and kept the dress, telling Patrick I’d see him at ten. Which gave me plenty of time to finish tidying up the apartment, run errands, and work out before I had to get ready.
I held the clutch purse in my lap and looked to Patrick, who was making his way toward the French Quarter.
“Where are you taking me?” I asked, knowing Tyler wouldn’t have had me get dressed up to go to his house.
“Veil,” he answered over his shoulder.
Veil?
I’d heard of it, but it was the high end’s version of a high-end club. Tyler is taking me to a nightclub?
I bit back my smile, having a hard time picturing it. Not that he gave off the vibe of being a drip, but – okay, yes, he did.
But that’s one of the things I liked about him. I couldn’t claim to know him all that well, but I could guess that there were ten other things he’d rather be doing than spending time in a club. There was only one place he let himself relax, and that was usually wherever he could get me alone.
“Will Tyler be waiting there?” I inquired.
I could only see the side of Patrick’s face as he spoke, as he kept his eyes on the road. “He got stuck on a conference call overseas, but he shouldn’t be too long,” he explained. “He asked that I take you inside and stay with you until he gets there.”
“No need,” I assured him. “I can take care of myself.”
“Sorry, miss.” I could hear the smile in his voice. “Those are the orders.”
I sat back and stared out the window, letting it go. I wouldn’t be able to convince Tyler I didn’t need protection, because I’d learned karate moves on YouTube. Yeah, right.
After Patrick navigated through the Quarter, slowing for the pedestrians and tourists constantly in the streets, we stopped on Toulouse Street, in front of a large black building with wide windows on the second and third floors. Neon blue and pink light flooded through them, and I noticed a barely visible sign on the front of the building next to the door that read VEIL. It was etched onto a plaque in black and then mounted into the black brick of the establishment, making it anything but obvious. Which I guess would account for its name.
I knew the club was members only, but obviously Tyler could invite guests.
Patrick handed the keys to the valet and circled the car to open my door. I took his hand, stepping out and tucking my small handbag under my arm.
The doorman opened the door and Patrick let me go first. I entered the arcane darkness with him following closely behind.
I stepped slowly, taking in my surroundings, because who knew when I’d ever get to see a private club again.
It was like stepping into a different world.
Of course, everything in New Orleans was old, aged, decrepit, and ruined, but walking past those doors, my eyes widened, and I felt like I’d left the city and entered some secret world hidden right under our noses.
Not that I didn’t like what made this city, but it was a nice surprise to see something so out of place and new-looking.
It was dim but not dark once we entered, and as I walked over the slate marble floors, I suddenly realized why Tyler had bought me the dress. With the way everyone looked here, I certainly fit in.
The men wore sleek, dark suits, some with ties and some without, while the ladies wore tight dresses that showed off bodies they presumably paid for with three Spinning classes a week. I didn’t like the idea of Tyler dressing me up to be like them, but he would’ve known the club had a dress code.
The long bar curved down the wall, looking like a white wave, and the walls were an architect’s dream. Curving in and out in a cubed, geometric pattern, it made you feel not only as though you were in another world but another time. It was sleek, chic, and most of all, expensive-looking.
The massive oval-shaped columns in the middle of the room had to be four feet wide and were made of glass and filled with water that gave off a purple glow from a light hidden somewhere in the tanks.