Suddenly, the idea that I confided in him about that makes me feel even more foolish and humiliated than the fact that I blurted out how much I wanted him.
I’m mortified. I’m angry, too.
More than angry, I’m pissed as hell.
As much as I’d like to turn Jared’s gift away, the sad fact is I do need the help. My mom needs the help, no matter what she’d like me to believe.
I force a smile for the kind healthcare worker and hold open the door for her. “Please come in, Rosa.”
I’m still fuming as I make quick introductions and provide the nurse with my phone number in case she needs to reach me while I’m gone. A few minutes later, I’m out the door.
I’m not going in to the diner, though.
After calling in to make my excuses, I head for the subway that will take me into the city.
23
JARED
“Here’s the paperwork you requested, Jared.”
Nate sets the file folder down on the desk in my study, placing it on top of a small stack of other documents that have been awaiting my attention for the past hour.
“We’ve already got a protective order in place for Alyssa, and I’m pulling a few strings to get the restraining order pushed through as quickly as possible,” he says. “At least she’ll have some legal remedies if her ex-boyfriend attempts to harm her or sic any of his thugs on her in retaliation for her helping the police arrest him for the break-in at the rec center.”
“Thanks, Nate.”
I flip through the pages of court documents and attached evidence Alyssa has provided. Printed photos of bruises, abrasions, and blackened eyes she’s suffered over time at Traynor’s hands. Text messages full of vitriol and demeaning insults. Demands for her to get rid of the child she’s carrying or face the consequences of Traynor’s wrath.
It sickens me.
It also makes me think about another woman and the years of abuse she endured as a girl, not from a boyfriend who claimed to love her, but from a father who should have been the one to keep her safe. A sick, cowardly man who would have killed her and the rest of his family if fate hadn’t intervened to keep their car from plunging off a highway bridge in the dark.
My blood seethes at the thought. I’m also filled with a bone-deep relief that Melanie survived the crash and the hell of her childhood. I don’t want to imagine the world existing without her—even if I’m determined there can be no place for her in my own.
I suddenly realize Nate hasn’t moved from where he stands in front of my desk. When I drag myself out of the grim reminders of Melanie’s past pain, I find my friend’s piercing stare locked on me.
“You didn’t hear a word I just said, did you?”
I grunt. “Sorry. I’ve got some things on my mind today.”
He eyes me skeptically. “You’ve been prowling around in here grumbling and scowling since the weekend.”
I level a dark look on him now, which only serves to prove his point. “What were you saying?” I ask, ignoring his on-point observation.
He points to the file folder. “We’re going to need Alyssa to sign those documents so I can file them with the judge. The shelter she’s staying at is on the way to the courthouse. I could take the file over to her for signature on my way.”
“No. I’d rather bring her here to review the process with us and answer any questions she might have. She’ll be more comfortable doing that somewhere other than where she’s staying. I want to talk to her about the art program in Chelsea, anyway.”
Nate nods. “Let me know if you need anything else on my end.”
“Actually, there is something. We need to discuss the Gramercy Park project.”
“Sure. What about it?”
“I’m suspending the project, effective immediately.”
“Suspending it?” Nate’s brows rise. “Meaning you’re scrapping it entirely, or putting it on hold for a while?”
“I haven’t decided. But as of today, I want Crowne and Merritt cut loose.”
Nate lets go of an exhaled curse. “That’s not going to go over well. Victor Crowne is notoriously litigious. I’ll guarantee you we can expect a lawsuit from him in response.”
“Do I look like I give a fuck about that?”
My barked reply comes out hotter than intended. It’s rare that I lose control of my temper when it comes to my business dealings. Rarer still that I lose it in front of Nate.
Unlike my art, my clubs and real estate ventures have never meant much to me. They’re nothing but diversions, albeit lucrative ones. They’ve also become a needed distraction from the reality I’m loathe to accept: that my ability to paint is slipping away from me day by day.
And now I have another loss I need to accept.
The dubious look on my friend and counselor’s face intensifies in the wake of my anger. “What’s really going on here, Jared? Why am I getting the sense this grudge you have with Daniel Hathaway goes a lot deeper than the seventy-five grand poker debt he owes you?”
I scoff sharply, despite the fact that he’s got that much right. But everything’s changed now, because of her.
“I’m not interested in Hathaway anymore. I took this thing too far. I need to let it go.”
Nate studies me. “I think you mean let her go. We’re talking about Hathaway’s woman, aren’t we?”
Hathaway’s woman. Melanie doesn’t belong to him, not that she ever did. She couldn’t have, not if she was able to kiss me the way she did. The way she melted under my touch scorched the truth of it into all my senses. Melanie Laurent
