“Tomorrow,” Sylvie said.
The hope in his mother’s voice was like a knife to Dylan’s heart. He’d pledged himself that the last time he’d cleaned up his brother’s latest mess would be the last. Already, he felt his resolve slipping away.
Dylan resisted the urge to punch a hole in the wall. Taking a deep breath, he slipped his phone into the inside pocket of his jacket and straightened his tie. His family life might be complicated, but he refused to let his sex life be anything but simple.
Returning to the private dining room, Dylan took Sasha’s hand and helped her to her feet. He didn’t mention the phone call and she didn’t ask. He draped her silk-lined wrap across her shoulders.
“Ready?”
“The question is, are you ready?” Sasha curled her fingers around his arm as they left the restaurant and sent him a knowing look. “I plan to use your body for my pleasure. All night long and well into the morning.”
Back on familiar ground, Dylan felt himself start to relax, deciding he was mistaken earlier. Sasha was his occasional playmate—nothing more. Lucky for him, if she suddenly decided to change the rules of their mutually satisfactory game, he could walk away without regret, guilt, or a backward glance.
Dylan’s lips twisted into an ironic smile. Leaving a woman was easy. Too bad the same couldn’t be said for his family.
▲ ▼ ▲ ▼ ▲
Trident, New Mexico
BONE TIRED AND in desperate need of a hot shower and twelve straight hours of uninterrupted sleep, Eve Stewart let herself into her tiny one-bedroom apartment knowing the chance of her getting either wish were slim to none.
The reasons were simple and absolute. First, the water ran from the old pipes in two temperatures—icy cold and lukewarm. Hot was nothing but a sad and sorry dream.
Second, Eve didn’t live alone. Her roommate was easy to get along with but had one major flaw. Not only did she wake with the sun, but she also insisted anyone within earshot was required to do the same.
Stifling a yawn, Eve stretched her arms over her head wincing when the pair of six-inch platform heels that she carried in one hand knocked against her head.
“I don’t know how you walk in those things let alone serve drinks.” Mrs. Dowd, Eve’s neighbor from down the hall, turned on the lamp by the sofa where she’d fallen asleep. “Even at your age, my feet couldn’t take the torture.”
Eve set the sandals on the floor. Balancing her hand on the sofa, she unlaced the canvas sneakers she wore to and from work. When her bare feet touched the cool tiled floor, she sighed with relief and flexed her toes.
Afraid she might not get back up again, Eve didn’t sit. Instead, she allowed herself the brief luxury of closing her eyes. When her head lolled to one side, she straightened with a snap.
“Five hours, two nights a week isn’t bad. Besides, I can take anything as long as the pay is decent, and the tips are good.” With a tired smile, Eve nodded toward the bedroom. “Did she cause you any trouble?”
“My little angel? Hardly. Been asleep most of the evening.” Mrs. Dowd’s beaming smile turned into a frown. “The place where you work worries me.”
“I’ve seen worse,” Eve said.
“Hardly something to brag about,” Mrs. Dowd admonished. “Shady Dan’s gets mighty rowdy on Saturday night. Don’t wave me off. I’ve seen the bruises on your legs. No one should be required to deal with groping drunks just to put food on the table and pay the rent.”
Eve didn’t argue. What was the point when Mrs. Dowd was right? The way she had to fight off handsy customers, her job as a cocktail waitress should have included combat pay. Instead, she learned to bob and weave with expert precision. Occasionally, she still received the occasional pinch or pat—usually when she zigged instead of zagged.
Resting her hands on her ample hips, Mrs. Dowd shook her head.
“You should quit. My cousin down at the Shop and Save told me the owner is looking to hire another shelf stocker. Minimum wage, and only a few nights a week. But you get an employee discount on everything in the store.”
Eve felt a quick surge of excitement. She wasn’t about to quit serving drinks at Shady Dan’s—the hit to her bank account would be more than she could survive. Even with three other jobs, she barely scraped by.
“Could I start right away?” Eve asked. The chance at another source of income was too tempting to pass up. If she had to squeeze another hour out of her already busy day, she’d find some way.
“I left an application on the kitchen counter,” Mrs. Dowd said as she walked toward the door. “Go in first thing tomorrow and ask for Dorothy—my cousin. She practically runs the store so you’re a shoo-in to get the job.”
“Thank you.” Eve hugged the older woman. “I don’t know how I’d get by without you and Mr. Dowd. I wish you’d let me pay—”
“Quickest way to offend me is to finish that sentence.” Mrs. Dowd patted Eve’s cheek. “Our children live on the other side of the country and helping you gives Tim and me a way to fill the hours since we retired.”
“You never let me return the favor.” Eve sighed. “Doesn’t seem fair.”
“Want to know how you can repay us?”
“Yes.” Eve perked up. “Tell me. Please.”
“Find some time for yourself.” Mrs. Dowd’s smile crinkled the corners of her eyes. “Work is important. But if you don’t take a moment to breathe now and then, you’ll end up in the hospital. Then what will you do?”
Once she was alone, Eve thought about the question. What would she do if she became ill? Simple. She wouldn’t because more than her life depended on her mental and physical health.
Quietly, Eve opened the
