might become. Afraid I’d lose my mind, too, and end up jumping out a window, following in London’s footsteps. The people at the house had said they had no idea she went upstairs. That they didn’t see her. That’s because they were out of it and I should have been there for her. And she shouldn’t have shot up the damn heroin in the first place. What really gets to me though, and I’ll always wonder, is why did she jump? Was it because of the drugs? Or was it for another reason? Did she want to jump? If I hadn’t left her, then I’d know. If I hadn’t left her, then she might have not jumped. But she still might have. I’ll never really know.
Lila bites on her lip, soaking my words in like a sponge and I pray to God I’ve said everything right. She looks at me, her eyes big and blue, and she frees her lip. “You’re seriously like Mr. Miyagi or something.”
My eyebrows shoot upward and the dark tone of the night flips to amusement. “Did you seriously just reference the
She shrugs. “What? It’s just an old movie about kicking ass.”
“Yeah, but…” I shake my head. “It doesn’t seem like something you’d watch.”
“Well, I’m full of surprises.” She rolls her eyes like she’s saying the most ridiculous thing that’s ever existed, but really, it’s the truth. Good and bad, Lila has been surprising me over and over again and I wonder just how many more surprises I’m in store for. Good and bad.
“Yes, you are,” I say, truthfully, remembering how different she was when I first met her. “You really are.”
Chapter Eleven
Lila
Ethan’s teaching me how to take care of myself, like how to shop cheap at the grocery store and pretty much spend as little money as possible wherever I go. It’s a little bizarre, not just because I need to be taught these things at the age of twenty, but because what he’s teaching me goes against everything I’ve been taught. I grew up in a home with maids, nannies, dry cleaners, chauffeurs, and money always on hand. Then while I lived with Ella, when I couldn’t pay someone to do these things for me, she’d do them. Looking back at it now, I feel guilty. I should have never let her be responsible for cleaning up after me. Now I’m broke and doing my own laundry. It’s weird and kind of sucks, yet at the same time there’s this strange gratification of being able to take care of myself, like I’m finally not completely worthless.
“I have a job interview tomorrow morning,” I announce as I walk into the apartment, shutting the door behind me, feeling a little proud of myself, despite what position the interview is for.
Ethan glances up from the book he’s writing in at the kitchen table. His hair is swept back out of his eyes and sticks up everywhere. “Oh, thank God. Finally. I was beginning to think I was going to have to kick you out on the streets.” He grins, amused with himself, but there’s an underlying pain in his expression, almost as if he’s forcing his humorous self to come out to disguise something else.
I’d ask him about it, but after the whole truck fiasco I’m deciding it’s better if we keep a little bit of distance between us, until I can figure out where we stand.
“Rude much?” I toss my purse on the couch and chuck the keys at him. He ducks, laughing, and the keys miss him and hit the wall behind him. “And I know you would never put me out on the streets.” I grin as I enter the kitchen. “You like me way too much.”
“Do I now?” He sits up straight and humor dances in his eyes. “But I’m glad you finally got an interview. You’ve seriously applied for, like, a hundred jobs.”
“I know.” I sigh and head to the kitchen, opening the fridge. “But apparently if you’re twenty and have never worked before, no one wants you to work for them.” I grab a can of soda out of the fridge and bump the door shut with my hip. “They all kept looking at me like I was worthless, and I’m not.” I tap the top of my finger against the can as I sink down into the chair. “I’ve got skills, you know.”
“Mad finger skills?” He laughs as he eyes my finger tapping insanely against the top of the can.
I flip him my middle finger. “You would be very surprised at what I can do with my fingers.”
He clenches his fist and places it in front of his mouth. “Oh, I’m sure I would.”
We both go silent. I can hear the loud roar of an engine outside and the clanking of the refrigerator. It’s an awkward silence, which is becoming more common the longer I live here with him. I’m not sure what’s causing it. Sexual tension? Probably from me, but I’m assuming Ethan’s managed to maintain his playboy lifestyle, bringing his women home late at night and sending them home as soon as he’s done with them, because that’s what he’s always done. I haven’t actually seen any of them, but none of them in the past have stuck around very long anyway. I’d be disgusted by his behavior, but I’ve done the same thing time and time again, only I’m usually the one leaving the house in the early hours of the morning.
Ethan clears his throat and then shuts his book, shoving back from the table. “So should we go celebrate?”
“Celebrate what?” I take a gulp of my soda to cool down my body.
He scoops up the keys without taking his eyes off me. “The job interview.” He stands up straight, closing his fingers around the keys. “By the way, where is it at?”
I set the soda can down on the table. “It’s at that bar.” I try not to go into the details on purpose because I’m not sure how he’s going to react.
“What bar?” He pushes the chair in and tucks the keys into the back pocket of his jeans.
“The one down on that street by the old section of Vegas,” I say evasively, pushing away from the table. I collect my can and head for the hallway. “I’m going to go to bed early, so I can get some rest for tomorrow.” I glance over my shoulder as I step through the doorway. “Rain check on the celebration? I only want to celebrate if I get the job.”
He scans me over quizzically. “Where’s the job interview, Lila?”
“Nowhere.” I walk quickly down the hall to avoid any more questioning. Once I make it to my room, I shut the door and breathe in the silence, but as soon as I step away from the door it opens and Ethan comes walking in.
“Where’s the interview, Lila?” he repeats, standing in the doorway, looking vexed.
I place the soda can down on one of the boxes I haven’t unpacked yet and then cross my arms. “Why is this bothering you so much? I thought you were just happy I finally had an interview.”
He shifts his weight and then sweeps his fingers through his hair, brushing it out of his eyes. “Because… you’re not…” He’s struggling and I’m twistedly finding it amusing. “You’re not applying to be a stripper, are you?” His gaze locks on me and fury burns in his eyes.
Without taking my eyes off him, I sit down on the foot of my bed. “Why would it matter if I was? I thought you
He shrugs, casually leaning against the door. “It doesn’t matter, but it’s not the place for you. You’re too…” His gaze skims my entire body, making even the coolness of the air conditioning feel stifling.
“Too what?” I press.
His attention lingers on my chest and then he blinks, fixing his eyes on my face. “It’s nothing… you just don’t fit in a place like that.”
I bend my knee and unfasten my sandal, wiggling my foot out. “I think a lot of people would disagree with you.” I shake my chest and then roll my eyes. “What else am I good for?”
He remains by the doorway, grasping on to the doorknob. “You’re good for a lot of things, you just don’t see it.”
Okay, so that was a little bit sweet. “Like what exactly?” I toss my sandal into the closet without getting up. “I can’t do anything by myself. I mean, you had to teach me to work the dishwasher for crying out loud.”
He lets go of the doorknob and sits down beside me on the bed while I take off my other sandal. “So what? Everyone has to learn sometime. You’re just learning a little bit later than most people.”
“Because I’m a spoiled brat who had a maid.”
“You don’t any more, though. You’re becoming an independent, strong Lila.” He winks at me and gives me a lopsided grin. “And that Lila doesn’t belong in a strip club.”
I think I may have just fallen in love with him. No one has ever said something so nice to me or put that kind
