Beautiful and Broken (19 page)

I step inside and the waitress smiles at me. “Table for one?”

“No. I’m meeting someone. Jason Mathews. We’re with a party of…six?” I think it’s six, but I’m not sure and Jason really didn’t specify. He just said we’d meet with a few couples. Would he hate me if I ran from here and never came back? Probably not. But I'd hate myself.
 

 
“They have a private room in the back. Please follow me.” The waitress glides through the tables and I follow her. She takes me to a secluded space in the back: a single room with a large table, a chandelier and a running fountain. They’re all here.
 

Jason stands and takes a step forward to greet me. My stomach turns and I cover it with my hands. Just breathe. I can do this. He takes my hands in his and leans in to give me a lingering kiss on my lips. I suck my lips in, unsure of how this kiss makes me feel. The ache in my chest isn’t there anymore, and I feel something different, something empty. Sadness.
 

"You look amazing," he says, leaning back and taking me in. "Maybe a little casual, but I'm just happy to have you here."

I force a smile as I pull away and give myself a once over. I thought I looked fine. Jason is in a suit and tie and when I peek at the others, the other two men are similarly dressed in suits. The two women smile up at me. One rests her hand on the arm of the gentleman beside her. She's younger than the man by maybe fifteen years, and she's clearly had some work done. Face, nose, definitely boobs. No way those puppies are real. They're little bullets. She's wearing an evening gown.
 

Shit. I really am underdressed. I cover my chest, feeling exposed, like I'm naked.
 

"Don’t fidget," Jason says in a whisper, his tone serious.
 

I nod, forcing a smile.

“This is Ricky Madison and his wife, Jewel.” Ricky stands and takes my hand while his wife and I exchange polite nods. “And this is George Fattone and his girlfriend, Tina.”
 

“Nice to meet you,” I say as George stands and kisses my hand. Jason’s jaw tenses but he smiles. I can tell he’s irritated, but no way will he pull the jealousy card in front of his clients. He’s smarter than that.

When George lowers into his seat, his jacket shifts and I spy the edge of a gun in a holster below his arm. Oh, shit. I glance back and forth between the men, suddenly nervous. Jason’s a criminal attorney—of course he deals with criminals—but smiling and eating dinner with them while they’re carrying guns doesn’t make me feel too happy. And I wasn’t happy to begin with.
 

My phone vibrates and I excuse myself. “I’m just going to go to the bathroom. I’ll be back in one minute.”

I glance at my phone and there’s another image of massive balls on it—like elephantitis-of-the-nuts-big. Oh, for crying out loud. I slip into the bathroom and call Amy.

“Amy?”

“Ha ha ha. What do you think? How would you like those puppies squirting into you?”

I make a face. “Gross. Forget about the balls for a minute. I need you to call me in twenty minutes, and tell me there’s an emergency and you need me to come home.”

“Mm hmm. That bad already?”

I sigh. “Worse. I thought I could do this but I can’t. And these guys…they’re not exactly people I want to get cozy with, if you know what I mean.”

“Gotcha. Twenty minutes.”

In all my life, I don’t remember my dad ever introducing our family to his clients and now I know why. It's probably for reasons like this. He didn’t want his family to be around the people he worked for, people who probably also had guns.
 

A tap, tap, tap sounds on the door and I open it to find Jason standing there.

“Is everything okay? We thought you got lost.”

“Nope. Just freshening up.”

He rubs at his chin. “What’s going on in that head of yours? You’re freaking out about something.”

"I can’t do this, Jason. I can't smile and pretend I'm not scared out of mind. They’re carrying guns!"
 

“So do thousands of other people in this country.”

I shake my head and pace the hallway. "What are they charged with?"

"This won't make it easier."

"Tell me."

"Murder. Racketeering..."

"They're organized crime!" I say in a quiet scream. I hold my fist in my mouth and bite down hard. "Make an excuse for me. I’m done. I can't believe you brought me into this."

"Molly. No. You can't do this. After all we've been through. You’re staying right here."

“No. I’m not.”

He grabs my arm but I swing out of it. “Molly, do not embarrass me right now. Come back to dinner. Stay, eat and then we’ll leave, I promise. These are not the type of people you want to offend.”

I suck in my lips, release them and chew my cheek. “Okay. Fine. But eat quickly.”

“There she is!” George says when I return. “We thought you got lost.”

I chuckle nervously. “Lineup.”

“Don’t you hate that?” Jewel says in a raspy voice.

“Yep. Hate it.”

We make polite conversation. George asks me about my job and tells me he has friends looking for houses and asks for a business card.

I snap my fingers. “Shoot. I never thought to bring any.”

“Next time we meet, I’ll bring you one.” Jason says as he lifts his arm up to wrap around my shoulders. I refuse to look at him because giving him the stink eye right now wouldn’t be a great idea.
 

I order pasta with lobster. Amy finally calls when I’m halfway through eating it.
 

“So sorry. Please excuse me for a minute.” I whip out my phone. “Hello?” Everyone stares at me. Jason looks annoyed and rolls her finger through the air to tell me to wrap it up.

“Molly. I have an emergency. Kick Jason in the balls and come on home.”

“What? That’s awful. Are you okay?”

“Have I mentioned how much of a douche he is? Seriously, kick him in the balls for me.”

Her fixation with balls is beginning to border on obsession. “Yeah. Hang tight. I’m coming.” I press End and frown at the faces staring back at me. “I’m so sorry. My roommate fell at the apartment and she needs someone to take her to the hospital.”

“Can’t she call Megan?”

“Jason. She’s hurt.”
 

He narrows his eyes at me and nods his head. “Tell Amy I hope she makes a speedy recovery.”

“I will.” I tap him on the shoulder and hurry out of the restaurant.
 

I slam my car door and hit my steering wheel with my open palm. Who
is
Jason? Six years ago he'd told me he wanted to defend people who didn't have the means to defend themselves. But now he’s headed for a high six figure salary and willing to defend people who make a living off of making other people suffer. He’s no longer the guy who kissed me on the swings behind my house when I was fifteen. Or the guy who asked me to move in with him while we rode in a hot air balloon on Valentines' Day. How could I have been so blind? It doesn't even matter who kissed who first.
 

I drive off, my mind spinning. Without thinking, I end up at Sawyer's hotel. I pull over, my eyes crawling up the brick wall to the window where I imagine Sawyer’s room is. Why won’t he answer my calls? Is Amy right? Does he have feelings for me? Do I have feelings for him? I don’t want him to be my rebound, but I don't want to lose him either. I've grown pretty fond of him. Okay. So maybe I
do
have feelings for him.
 

I park the car and head inside. A woman with a Chihuahua keeps me company on the elevator. When I get off, I take a slow breath as I head for Sawyer's room. Hopefully he won't be angry with me for showing up like this. Maybe there’s a good explanation for him blowing me off and I have to admit, I want to hear it.
 

As I round the corner, I hear a door unlock and a leggy brunette walks out of Sawyer's room. I halt, standing rooted to the spot.
 

Sawyer steps out in his pajama pants and gives her a long kiss on the lips, while gripping her ass and pulling her so close he is almost arched over her. I take a deep breath. I can’t pretend this doesn’t hurt me. It almost rips my heart to shreds.
 

When they come up for air, she taps his cheek and walks away. Sawyer’s gaze follows after her until he meets mine. I debate how to react to this. A friend would roll her eyes at her playboy pal and keep walking. A girlfriend would run and hide or slap him, which was exactly what I want to do. But I have no right. No strings.
 

So I hold my head up high and continue toward him. His face is blank as he leans up against the doorframe. When we’re face to face, he diverts his eyes to the red carpet. There it is: guilt. If he feels he did something wrong then why did he do it?
 

"Hi." I force a smile. "Wow. She was pretty." My words are happy and a little enthusiastic. "Acrobatics and anal, I bet."

His eyes flash up at me. "What did you say?"

"Can I come in?" I step inside, trying not to stare at the wrinkled bed sheets that are strewn about the floor. Instead, I head for the bar and grab a Corona. "Do you mind?" I hold it up so he can see what I’m taking.

He shakes his head and approaches me like a lion approaching a sheep, only no way is he going to devour me after having the leggy brunette—and I’m not about to let him, anyway.
 

I sidestep him and take a seat on the couch. With a tip of his head, he regards me with so much confusion that I look down to see if I’ve forgotten to put my clothes on.
 

"What are you doing here?" he asks.
 

"Dinner didn't pan out, so I thought I stop by and find out why you're not returning my calls."

"Your date?"

"I wouldn't call it a date. A
mistake
is more like it."

"Oh." He lowers himself onto the couch and leans back, stretching his arm over the back so that his fingers almost touch my neck.
 

"But I don't want to talk about that. Hey, you're dodging. Why didn't you call me back?"

“I was busy, and…Amy told me the other day you’re dating Jason again so I didn’t want to get in the way. I assumed he wouldn't be cool with sharing you.”

"Amy told you what?"

"Well, I overhead her telling someone on the phone when I stopped by to see Charlie the other day.”

"I'm not sure what you overheard but I'm not back with Jason. In fact I'm starting to wonder if he's even the same person I fell in love with. Like maybe he changed a long time ago and I was too blind to see it."

"I see. Well, this is awkward."

"What? Because of the girl? Yeah, that's cool. No messiness, right. No commitment. I'm just here because I had a shitty night and I wanted to see a friend's face." I try to smile, but inside I just feel sad.
 

He opens his mouth to speak but snaps it shut. He looks completely perplexed. I'm sure he expected me to bitch about the girl, but he doesn't owe me an explanation and I’m smart enough to realize it.
 

"I'm sorry I didn't call you back. I really
was
busy."

"You going to bed now?" I ask him, with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm wide awake. What did you have in mind?"

I find my smile and force the memory of the girl out of mind. He’s my friend and I’m glad for it. In fact, maybe it’s better if we stayed that way. Just for now.

"Well, don't get any ideas. No benefits for you tonight. That's just gross. I mean, she looks like a prostitute."

"What?" He smirks. "She's a nurse."

"In porno films, maybe."

He laughs out loud and gently pushes on my shoulder.
 

"Her boobs were fake."

"I promise you they weren't. Betty would be offended."

"Betty? She looked like a Betty. Like that old cartoon. God, what was her name? Betty Boob?"
 

He shoves my shoulder again and I laugh.
 

"Come on,” he says as he stands up. He reaches out his hand to me and I hesitate. “I want to take you somewhere."

I hold up my beer. "Can this come?"

***

"What are you up to, Sawyer Davis?" I smirk at him in the dim light. His dashboard is glowing red and blue and the lights of the streets and businesses around us pass by in a blur.
 

"You'll see."

He pulls over at the back of the gym he uses. I raise my eyebrows in question as he gets out and rounds the car to open the door for me.
 

"Thanks." I stare at the back of the building. Not much to look at. A dumpster to the left, some broken up boxes tied up by the back door. There are a few windows but they're much higher up, high enough that someone couldn't sneak in. "What now?"

He nods to the back door and takes out two small black, metal cylindrical tools from his jacket pocket. He slides them in the lock and jiggles them around.

"Sawyer? You better not be doing what I think you're doing."

"Come on. Trust me."

Trust him? I know nothing about him. And now he's picking a lock like a thief. What the hell else don't I know?

He doubles over laughing. "Just curious if you'd do it." He straightens and pulls out a key. "I know the owner. He lets me come here after hours to blow off steam."

"Is that why we're here? To blow off steam?"

"You're wound tighter than a pair of granny hose."

"I am not!"

He nods, his lips curling into a mischievous smile. "Sad but true." He opens the door and waves for me to walk through.
 

Inside, we're in complete darkness except for faint moonlight steaming in through the few windows. I reach out for him. I've never been a fan of the dark.
 

He takes my hand and gently tugs me over so I can feel the outline of his chest at my back. His lips touch my neck and that's all it takes to stir my need for him. My underwear is wet and the hairs on my neck are standing on end. I have to squeeze my legs together to stop from falling apart. His breath on my neck, the scent of his soap and aftershave…oh.