Chapter 49
I stared up at him. "What someone? Who the hell are you talking about?"
"You tell me."
"I can't," I said. "Because he doesn't exist."
"Alright. Then who was that guy?"
"Which one?"
He shrugged.
I stared at him in disbelief. "You mean the guy on the porch?"
"That'd be a good start," he said.
"You've got to be kidding me. That guy? You seriously think he's my boyfriend or something?"
He shook his head. "That's not what I said."
"Then what are you saying?"
"I'm saying that I don't get it."
"Get what?"
"Alright," he said. "I'll spell it out. I don't get why some guy in a fancy car would be showing up on your doorstep and handing you a pile of cash. I don't get who you live with, or why you've never asked me inside."
His voice rose. "I don't get why you're getting 'business' calls at midnight on a Sunday night or why I'd happen to drive by early this morning and see some guy in a sports car leaving your house."
I wanted to shrink back, surprised by the simmering rage brought to the surface. Instead, I took a step forward and glared up at him. "You're twisting everything around, making it sound worse than it is."
"Is that so?" He crossed his arms and waited. "Then go ahead. Tell me how you'd say it."
"I already told you." I gestured vaguely toward the Parkers' house. "I get paid to stay there. What don't you get?"
I threw up my hands. "Yeah. I do it for money. Big f*cking deal. And the reason I didn't tell you right from the start is because that's part of the deal. I'm supposed to look like I actually belong here."
In front of me, Lawton was a mass of coiled muscles and stony features. He said nothing, and I kept on going.
"Yeah." I made a scoffing sound. "I've got the dog, I've got the plants. Hell, I've even got some stupid lawn guy coming once a week to trim shit that doesn't need trimming." My voice cracked. "But it's all about the money, because I don't have any of my own."
I looked down at my pocket, bulging with cash mostly already spent. Here, I'd been so happy to get it, and for what? For a new car battery and a whole lot of grief from someone richer than God?
I swallowed a sob. "I'm broke. There, you happy?"
His eyebrows furrowed. "What?"
"Yeah. You want the whole story? Well, here it is. I've got a Grandma who gets all her rent money from this fake job I had to make up. I've got a kid brother who thinks our mom gives some sort of a crap, even though she doesn't. I've got student loans from a degree that as far as I can tell, probably cost me a lot more than the damn thing's worth."
My voice rose. "And now, I've got you ragging on me like I’m some kind of horrible person."
His eyes softened. "Chloe—"
"Don't 'Chloe' me," I said. "What the hell? Have you been rich so long that you've forgotten what it's like to live in the real world?"
He took as step toward me. "Chloe, you need money? I mean, shit, why didn't you say something?"
He reached a hand toward his back pocket. An image flashed in my brain, the memory of Brittney plucking cash from his outstretched hand.
I wasn't a Brittney. I lifted my chin. "I don't want your charity. As you so aptly observed, I just got paid. So I'm practically rich, right?"
"But you just said—"
"I know what I said. Quit rubbing my nose in it, alright?"
His eyebrows furrowed. "But what about your waitressing job?"
"What about it?"
"So you do that for the money too, not–?"
"For the ego trip?" I gave a bark of laughter. "You ever work as a waitress? It's f*cking hard work. I take shit all night long from people who act like they're better than me just because they're sitting down, and I'm standing up. I dress like some bimbo and act like I'm stupid, for God's sake."
I tugged at a strand of my hair. "You know how many times I've got to wash this to get the hairspray out? You think I'm doing this for some sort of ego trip." I made a sound of disgust. "That's rich."
I glanced around the neighborhood. "At least with this job, I get to dress how I want. And I get to live in a nice place where people treat me half-way decent."
His voice was very quiet. "And that's good enough for you?"
"It's gotta be. I've just got to keep doing what I'm doing, that's all."
"But Chloe," he said, "you don't need to. Not anymore."
"Oh yeah? Why not?"
"You just don’t."
The way he was looking at me, I'd seen it before. Too many times, in fact. I'd seen it on the faces of the rich girls in my class who went to Disney every winter. I'd seen it on the faces of my friends' parents when they offered me rides to places I couldn't afford.
It was that awful combination of surprise and pity. And I knew exactly what came next.
Lawton pushed a hand through his hair. "So, you want a loan or something? I mean, if you won't take money –" He blew out a breath. "All I'm saying is, you don't have to do this. Don't go back there, alright?"
I thought of my other options. My mom's shitty apartment? Yeah, because I just loved to listen to her and some random loser screw like monkeys in the apartment's only bedroom while I covered my head with a couch pillow.
Or how about my Dad's house? The place had four bedrooms, but none I was welcome in. Loretta had hated me from day one. She still hated me. And my Dad was a giant, p-ssy-whipped bastard who'd rather see his daughter sleep in the basement than make a ripple with his psycho second wife.
Or what about my own place? Oh, that's right. I couldn’t afford one.
I felt something warm encircle my body. Lawton's arms. He was holding me tight against his chest. "Baby, don't cry," he said. "I'm sorry. We'll work it out. You can move in with me, alright?"
I heard a sob. Oh, God, it was coming from me. I was crying. I almost never cried, and now, it seemed like I was crying all the time.
And I couldn’t help it. I leaned into him, soaking up his strength and the soothing sounds he made in my ear.
We stood like that for what seemed like a long time until my tears were spent and his shirt was soggy. And yet, I couldn't seem to make myself move.
Even through the soft cotton fabric, his chest was rock-hard against my cheek. I felt the muscles in his arms and the tightness of his stomach. It felt like a slice of heaven wrapped up in a perfect package, delivered just to make my life complete.
Erika was right. I should've been honest with him all along. Well maybe not all along, but certainly after we'd become intimate. I vowed that as soon as I got the chance, I'd call her and tell her how right she was.
"I've been such an idiot," I said. "I should've told you sooner." I gave a little laugh. "Like it's such a big deal, right?"
His body stiffened, as if the memory of our argument – correction, multiple arguments – were something he'd rather forget. And then, he clutched me tighter.
"Baby, I don't want you to do this with anyone else. Not ever."
I smiled through the tears. "Yeah?"
I felt him nod. "I mean it. Move in with me. Right now, today. This'll be our home. Together, alright?"
I clung to him, soaking up his strength and the unexpected offer. A real home. I couldn't even imagine. Then again, I guess I could. When I was with Lawton, I didn't feel like some sort of interloper. I felt like I belonged.
It had nothing to do with the size of his house or the opulence surrounding us. It had to do with him. Just him. We clicked in ways that had nothing to do with fame, fortune, or heart-stopping good looks.
It was a tempting offer, and would solve so many of my problems. But part of me was still old-fashioned. Moving in wasn't exactly the offer of my dreams, even if it was pretty spectacular.
Still, I felt myself smile against his chest. "I'll think about it," I said.
"Don't think. Just do it." And then, he pulled away. He looked down at me an expression bordering on desperation.
"You don't want to take money from me," he said. "I get that. And I respect the hell out of that, honest. But baby, please. Come on. Stay with me. Or shit, I'll buy you a house of your own if that's what you want. Just no more other guys anymore, alright?"
I felt my eyebrows furrow. "What do you mean?"
"I mean," he said, "I love you."
"I love you too."
He reached out, gathering me into his arms once again. I felt his grip tighten and heard his voice, a low whisper in my ear. "You don't have to sell yourself anymore. From now on, let me take care of you, alright?"
Slowly, his words sank into my brain. I felt myself stiffen. I pulled back and gave him a hard look. "Sell myself?" I said.