He shrugged. “Whatever.” Tossed me my keys and turned. I would have bet, from the cringe on Jillian’s face, that he winked at her in passing.
I waited, stepping forward, seeing—out of my peripheral vision—him enter the bar, heard the rise in music and voices until the door swung behind him and we stood in silence, two opposing forces separated by four feet of concrete.
“What are you doing Layana?” her voice was tired. Beaten. As if we had had this argument a million times and she couldn’t bear to go through it again.
“I can’t…” I stopped. Tried to find my words. “You know what Brant’s like.” I dipped a head toward Lee. “He’s different. I tried… I can’t stay away.”
“You love Brant.” She sighed, her exhale a trip of congestion and old lady. “I know you do.”
I nodded. “I do.”
She glanced over her shoulder. “And him? Does he have any of your heart?”
I swallowed. Searched the recesses of my heart that I didn’t want to exist. “Part of me loves him too. I can’t really separate that.”
Her mouth tightened. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”
“It’s my game to play. I’m the one in the relationship.” I regretted the moment the flippant words left my mouth.
Her eyes fired. “You selfish stupid girl.” She pointed a strong finger toward the bar. “He’ll leave you, Layana. One day, you’ll wake up, and that boy in there will be gone. Brant loves you. He’ll be with you forever.”
I nodded. “I know.” I turned, tucked my purse under my arm because I needed something to do with my hands, and walked toward the neon. Her voice, quiet but firm, stopped me.
“Brant told me he proposed again.”
“Yes.” I turned. Met her eyes. “Should I marry him?”
She let out a huff of laughter, a cold and brittle sound that spoke of incredulity and hopelessness. “Lana, you know that I don’t particularly care for you.”
“I’m well aware.”
“But I don’t know if I’d be in support of any woman dating Brant. You could have left him. Back in Belize, when you found out about him. But you didn’t. You stayed with him. Five minutes ago I would have said yes, marry him. Now? Seeing you with him?” She jerked her head toward the bar. “You are threatening everything you have because you want everything you don’t. You don’t get everything when it comes to Brant. You get what he shares with you. And you have to be happy with that.”
I found my voice somewhere around the pit of my shame. “I don’t know that I can be happy with just that.”
She shook her head, her eyes filled with disappointment. “Love isn’t about being happy. Be single and be happy. Love is about putting him, his sanity, his happiness, first. If you aren’t willing to do that then you aren’t really in love.”
And, with that justified blow, she turned, her heels clipping through the parking lot, her head down, shoulders hunched. There was a part of me that loved that woman. That loved her fight for Brant. There was another part of me that hated her guts.
I turned and headed for the bar, my path to hell lined with neon signs and temptation, all in the form of Lee.
Chapter 41
“Layana.” Jillian looked up from her desk, raised eyebrows pointed in the direction of her admin, a male who positively quaked next to me. “What a… surprise.”
I stepped forward, perched on the edge of the closest chair; any further time spent standing would have felt too similar to my time in the headmistress’s office. “I’d like to speak to you about something.”
She stood, spreading her hands. “Absolutely. I’m always happy to see you. Chad, please leave us, and hold any interruptions.”
I heard the flee of steps, her hard eyes returning to mine. “What is it?”
“Thank you for not making a scene last night.”
She nodded stiffly. “I didn’t really have an option.”
“I do a lot for Brant. For you. For BSX.”
She pursed her lips. “You keep a secret. Don’t blow it into a monumental feat, dear.”
“I need something in return. From you.”
“And that is?” She moved to an antique desk, set along the right wall of her office, and began the process of pouring a cup of coffee. She didn’t offer me any, and I smiled at the petty snub.
“I need to know how many men…” I glanced at the door. “How many men Brant has…” I tried to find the right word to use in this public setting. “…been in contact with. If Lee is the only one. What the possibilities are for more.”
Her forehead creased and she motioned for me to close the door. “Do you plan on collecting more boyfriends, Layana? Juggling a handful of men at once?” She stirred a spoonful of sugar into the black liquid. “You’re not intelligent enough for that. Trust me on that. No one is.”