“Like I said, it’s on me,” Jace had replied, and Lily Mae could tell that his word was as good as cash now.
Of course, it made sense. After she’d agreed to Jace’s terms, they’d enjoyed a long breakfast and more conversation in which he filled her in on his life. When he’d gone away to school, he’d not been sure he wanted to come back and run the ranch. Lily Mae’s departure had left him longing for a change of scenery, and possibly more. So he’d gone back to school to study economics and finance and was even considering a career requiring a suit and tie when his father had suddenly died of a heart attack.
Settling his remaining parent’s estate had made Jace realize how much his father had put into the ranch, so Jace had decided to use his economic education to run the place like a successful business. He’d grown up knowing more about cattle than he could have learned in school, and he fell into ranching with more ease than he could have imagined. Now, between profits from cattle and careful investments, Jace Whitaker was a millionaire, even though he still worked shoulder-to-shoulder with his ranch hands.
He told Lily Mae that he was going to straighten out her financial mess, not out of pity but because he considered it an investment in their future. She knew this made sense; with her all but teetering on the brink of bankruptcy, she’d be a liability to him if they decided to marry, and to her surprise, Jace had already mentioned that possibility.
She teared up now, just thinking of the years that had been wasted while she was away. He’d been with a few women, too. In fact, he’d gotten pretty serious at one point with Janet Billings. But like Lily Mae, the longing for another had resulted in an emotional roadblock leading to the end of the relationship. As she stood in front of the window watching Jace walk back to the house, she wondered how different their life might be if she’d just admitted all those years ago that he was just what she needed. They might have a kid or two by now.
But there was no need to dwell. Jace had given her an assignment: make a list of all her assets and debts.
The first list was short. Her SUV was paid for, at least. She had jewelry. She had her mother’s house and old clunker of a car.
The list of debts was longer—Visa, AmEx, MasterCard, furniture store, student loan. She was behind on all her utilities and so far behind on her townhouse rent that she wasn’t even sure she’d be able to retrieve her belongings when and if she went back to Los Angeles.
And then there was Tony Orzo. Her hand hovered above the paper, but Lily Mae couldn’t bring herself to put this debt on paper. After seven years she was finally reunited with the guy she’d loved since she was in high school. This was her second chance, but how long would it last if Jace found out that she was seven thousand dollars in debt to a shady strip club owner who made the loan with the unspoken understanding that there’d be a return on his investment?
Tony had been the first person to contact her when she’d lost her job after the DUI. He’d used her services when she’d been a design consultant with the furniture store to decorate the lobby of his first club, and she’d been gratified and flattered when he said he wanted to hire her to redo not just his corporate offices, but three new clubs he was opening around Los Angeles. He also hooked her up with new clients, and told her to come to him if she needed anything, anything at all.
Lily Mae resisted at first, but when she got the notice giving her thirty days to catch up her vehicle payment or lose her SUV, she’d gone to his office. Tony had listened, tapping his expensive pen against the edge of his Moroccan leather desk organizer, nodding sympathetically on occasion.
He’d written her a check right there, but had not let it go when Lily Mae gratefully went to take it from his hands. Even now, she could hear the words of the slick, handsome man.
“You know, Lily, I’ve always thought you were the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. If I didn’t respect you so much, I’d offer you whatever you wanted to dance in my clubs. But you’re too good for that. You’re not the kind of girl a man like me puts on the pole. You’re the kind of girl that a man like me puts on his arm, the kind of woman a man adds to his list of fine possessions.” He’d leaned over then and kissed her on the cheek. “Now, this is a loan, not a gift, so you’re going to have to pay it back within three months. I’m all business when it comes to what’s owed to me, but if you’re still on hard times, understand that we can work something out. And remember, I’m the kind of man who expects commitments to be honored.”