Perfectly Broken (7 page)

Reed wanted more but knew he needed to stop, knowing he’d already broken his promise to go slowly. But he saw her smile slightly, turning her big blue eyes away from him, blushing, and figured she’d probably forgiven him. He reached out to her, intertwining their fingers.

“You look beautiful,” he said. “Ready?”

* * *

Bret gripped the steering wheel tightly, the veins in his hands bulging from aggravation and embarrassment. He glanced at Quinn, sitting quietly, tapping her fingers on her legs in some rhythmic fashion. He didn’t know what was bothering her and frankly didn’t care. If it was still about Reed, she needed to get over it. He released the steering wheel for a moment and flexed his hands.

“Quinn, I asked you to be nice. What the hell was that back there?” She didn’t respond, just kept tapping her fingers on her legs. “If you can’t get along with Reed, we are going to have problems.” She didn’t respond again and just kept tapping. “I think it’s best if I take you back to your house tonight.” He looked at her, hoping for some response, some explanation, but there was nothing, just more tapping, faster and faster. “Whatever.” He jammed his foot on the brakes, quickly switching lanes. He checked his blind spot to make an illegal U-turn and spotted a tear rolling down her cheek, her bottom lip quivering. “Are you OK?”

“Pull the car over,” she said quietly.

Bret patted her knee. “I’m sorry I snapped, but ....”

“Please pull the car over.” Quinn frantically dug through her purse.

He eased into a tow away zone in front of a stop sign then opened the sun roof to let in some fresh air. “Baby, what’s wrong? Please don’t cry.”

“I need my phone! I need to call Peyton!”

Bret covered her hand with his. “Why? We just left her. She’s fine.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I think I do. She was fine when you left her a few minutes ago. I was there, too.”

Quinn paused for a moment, soaking in what he’d said. “That’s just it. I left her once before, and....”

“And what?”

Tears flowed down her face in full stream. “I left her,” she said, her voice cracking, debating whether to tell him, “and she was raped.”

“What?” Bret fell back in his seat like he’d just been shot. “When was this? Who?”

Quinn dropped her head in her hands. “I left her alone. It’s my fault.”

“It’s not your fault,” Bret said, tilting up her chin. “I’m sure Peyton doesn’t blame you.”

“She’s too good to do that,” Quinn said, forcing a smile. “She’s the most beautiful person in the world.”

“Has she told Reed?”

“No,” she said sternly, “and you can’t tell him, either.”

“I can’t keep something like this from him. He has a right to know what he’s dealing with here.”

She pulled at his collar with both her hands. “Swear to me you won’t tell him! This is too private. Peyton will tell him if and when she’s ready. Please, Bret, this is Peyton’s story to share. I shouldn’t have even told you.”

Bret looked out the window, torn between his best friend and girlfriend, pissed that Peyton already had so much taken from her — and now this. The stop sign caught his eye. He wouldn’t take anything else. “I won’t say a word to Reed or anyone.”

“Thanks, babe,” Quinn whispered, nuzzling into his neck. “I’m sorry I was rude to Reed again.”

“Just know he’s not going to hurt her.”

“It’s not so much about him. I’ve watched her in pain for almost four years and just don’t want to see it anymore.”

OVER THE PAST
few days, Reed had spent several hours thinking about where to go. He considered taking Peyton to a “buffet” — perhaps the huge spread at Harrah’s near the Riverwalk — but decided that would only be funny for a few minutes, and then they’d be stuck in a loud, smoky restaurant surrounded by cocktail waitresses in tiny tops, many of whom had no business wearing them. He also considered taking her downtown to the Canal Place Theater, which didn’t allow annoying teens or kids to bother them, where they could dine from the high-brow menu while taking in a movie in high back leather chairs. But a movie seemed so trite, so ordinary, and he wanted to make a good impression and try to get to know Peyton, so two or three hours in a dark, quiet theater wouldn’t allow for that. Sure, they could make out during the movie, but they could do that anywhere.

He settled on dinner at Emeril’s in the Warehouse District. It was, after all, “five star dining,” the very way she’d described herself. And if things went well, his loft was only a few streets away. He never took his women there — it made things too personal, too complicated — but he’d make an exception for Peyton. He was also willing to make an exception to his promise not to rush things.

Peyton hardly expected such a beautiful dinner or for Reed to be such a romantic guy, opening every door for her, pulling out her chair. The kiss on the porch was a little forward for a first date greeting, but it did relieve some pressure and thankfully didn’t ignite any lightning strikes of memories past. Still, she wondered whether this was the real Reed or the night was just too good to be true, starting with their first kiss, like something out of an old Hollywood movie, the whole thing carefully designed by a leading man whose stunning good looks and charm burst from the silver screen. She tried not to think about all the other women but didn’t want to be naive, either. She twirled her locket, considering all the possibilities, then opened her menu.

“Who’s in there?” Reed asked.

Peyton scooted her chair towards him and opened her locket. “That’s my dad, Aidan Mayfield, and my mom, Victoria Peyton Mayfield.”

“They live in New Orleans?”

“Not anymore. They died when I was six.”

“Jesus! I’m sorry.”
Hard knocks
.

“Car crash.” She closed the locket. “It was a long time ago.”

“Well, it’s a nice memory to have.”

“All I have are memories, so I never take it off.” Peyton explained when her parents died, her paternal grandparents were her only family left. Gram and Grandpa gave her the locket on the day of the funeral. “All things considered, I had a good childhood. They raised me where I live now. They were very protective of me. Gram thought she could cure anything by baking, but Grandpa had a slightly different way.”

Reed listened intently, watching her lost in her thoughts, happy she was carrying the conversation.

“I remember if anything bad happened to me — like some mean boy would break my heart — Grandpa would drive us to Seaside, Florida. He’d rent a little house on the beach and take me out to the water. He’d tell me to cry, to let the sea carry away my tears. He died my senior year of college.” Peyton took a sip of water. “What about your family?”

Reed opened his menu and scanned it. “I’m an only child, too.”

“What about your parents? They’re still together?”

“32 years.”

“What do they do?” Peyton asked, tilting her head to make eye contact.

Reed took a long drink. “My mom never worked.” Then he gave a naughty smile. “Being my mom was a full-time job.”

“I bet it still is.”

“She dedicates a large part of each day telling me to redecorate my loft, find a woman to give her grandchildren, and cut my hair. And when she’s not doing that, she’s on several charity boards around town.”

“What’s wrong with your hair?” Peyton reached up and gently touched it.

Reed’s eyes sparkled at her touch. He leaned into her, their lips only inches apart. “Are you actually admitting you like something about me?”

The waiter approached to take their order. Peyton dropped her hand and scooted her chair back, their playful moment over. Reed silently cursed the waiter then politely asked him for a few more minutes.

“So what about your dad?”

Reed pulled at his shirt collar, suddenly wishing the waiter would come back. “My dad owns several businesses in town.”

“Really? Any places I’ve heard of?”

“A few hotels,” he said, shrugging.

Hotels? That’s convenient.
Peyton set her hands in her lap, unsure what to say next. “Do you ever do any work with your dad?”

Reed looked around for the waiter, now tending to another table. “My father and I, uh, well, we....”

Peyton’s phone rang. “I’m so sorry. I forgot to turn it off.”

Reed assured her it was fine; indeed, he couldn’t have hoped for better timing.

Peyton found her phone in her purse, buried under Quinn’s “Shame on You” kit. “Sorry, I need to take this.” She stood up from the table — and so did Reed — then quickly walked outside with her phone to her ear.

He followed her with his eyes, watching her through the window, her back to him, admiring how the blue dress perfectly framed the curve of her waist. Then she turned slightly, her profile coming into view, and he saw something was wrong.
Did Griffin call?
She appeared to be shaking. She hung up the phone, then her eyes caught his. Reed stood up, seeing a tear on her cheek. He threw several bills down on the table and rushed outside, half-hoping it was Griffin who called. The boxer he was, Reed hadn’t been in a good fight in a long time and pummeling Griffin was long overdue. When he got outside, he saw her tears had multiplied. “Who’s ass do I need to kick?”

“No one,” she said, managing a smile before her voice cracked. “It’s Gram. I’m sorry. I have to go.”

Reed took her hand. “Let’s go.”

* * *

Peyton researched various centers before settling on Poydras Home. It was right down the street from her pie shop, close to her home, and most important of all, seemed a perfect fit — with lots of activities to keep her grandmother entertained. After all, her mind was still there, but her body wasn’t what it once was, a fact Gram was reluctant to accept. But Gram knew it was for the best. She’d lived in Poydras Home for the past year.

Peyton and Reed hurried inside the lobby and towards a door leading to a corridor where the residents lived. Before they could open it, a young receptionist stopped them. “I’m sorry, you can’t go back.”

“What? My grandmother, Adelaide Mayfield, is hurt. Nurse Gloria called me like ten minutes ago.”

“I understand, but the doctor is examining your grandmother right now,” the receptionist said, fixing her eyes on Reed. “He’ll come talk to you when he’s done.”

“I need to see her.” Peyton tried to go around her, but the receptionist blocked her path. “I can’t believe this is happening!” Reed put his arm around her.

“There’s really nothing I can do,” the receptionist said, playing with her hair, wishing Reed’s arm was around her. “It’s our policy.”

Reed sensed an opening. “Look, I respect your job, your policy, but my job as this girl’s
boyfriend
is to take care of her and that means she needs to see her grandmother.” Peyton looked up at him in shock, her heart pounding in her chest. “And I need you to respect that.”

The young receptionist softened her stance. This hot guy made so much sense. “OK, just this once,” she said and pushed a button to open the door. Peyton flew through it, as the receptionist winked at Reed, who walked right past her.

Down the long corridor, Peyton found Nurse Gloria, who pointed to a nearby room. “Adelaide is in there, honey.”

Peyton raced inside and peeked behind a curtain to find her grandmother sitting on an examination table, jabbering with a doctor while eating a chocolate stick of Roman Candy. Peyton walked towards her, finding this wasn’t quite the life-or-death situation she expected. “Gram?”

“Baby girl, what are you doing here? What a pleasant surprise!”

“
Pleasant
? Gloria called me. She said you fell. What happened?”

“Good heavens! They shouldn’t have called you, dear. I’m fine. Someone put my candy on the top shelf, and I couldn’t reach it.”

Nurse Gloria entered the room. “So she climbed on a chair and toppled over.”

Adelaide waved her chocolate stick. “But I got my candy!”

The doctor stood up. “Nothing’s broken or sprained. But you’ll be sore tomorrow, so take it easy.” Adelaide promised she would then offered the doctor a bite of her Roman Candy, which he respectfully declined. Nurse Gloria escorted him out of the room and past Reed lingering in the doorway.

“I was so scared,” Peyton said, hugging her grandmother tightly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Adelaide patted her on the back and played with her hair. “Don’t worry, baby girl, I won’t go anywhere until you’re ready for me to go.” She released Peyton to take another bite. “You look beautiful in that dress. Do you want some?” She held out the chocolate to Peyton, but she shook her head. “That’s too bad. How about your friend over there?” Adelaide looked at Reed in the doorway.

“Absolutely,” he said, walking towards the women. He took the candy and popped it in his mouth. “I’m Reed, ma’am.”

Adelaide pulled him in for a hug. “I don’t get to squeeze strapping young men too often anymore.”

“Gram!” Peyton cried. Reed chuckled as he pulled back.

Adelaide eyed them both. “You look like you’re going somewhere special.”

“We were at Emeril’s when Gloria called,” Peyton said then turned to Reed. “I ruined our date.”

“Not at all,” Reed assured her, stroking her back. “I’d actually planned to hang out at a nursing home after dinner, so this worked out just fine.”

Adelaide let out a high cackle. “I like this kid, Peyton.”

“Yeah, he’s quite the comedian,” she replied. “It’s our first date.”

“Oh my! Well, you two should get going.” Adelaide shooed her hands at them. “You don’t need to hang around an old woman all night.”

“Don’t be silly,” Peyton said. “I’m not leaving you, Gram.”

“I’m fine,” Adelaide snapped. “Now you better get your little behind in that pretty little dress up and out that door.”

“Gram?”

“Don’t you ‘Gram’ me. You have a nice, young man there.” Adelaide winked at Reed. “Go enjoy him.”

Reed winked at Peyton, who could only shake her head. She wasn’t sure how “nice” he really was, but his charms certainly seemed without limits, apparently extending to senior citizens, too. Peyton kissed her grandmother on the cheek and promised to come by tomorrow to check on her.