9. Lacy
9
LACY
I have a rare opportunity of being alone, so I walk to the side of the room, needing to get some air in the distillery garden. I push through the door and step down the path, my cheeks hurting from smiling so much and my head starting to thump from that familiar headache.
I have been running around all night, trying to be the perfect hostess, ensuring everything is happening on schedule. Making sure the band turned up, our catering is ready, and that we have enough bottles of whiskey to suit the crowd. I’ve talked to so many people that my throat is a little sore, not having time to grab a drink. Then, just as I was going to sneak away for a moment, Connor came up to me, panicking. He forgot to put on deodorant and then stepped closer to me, wanting me to check if he smelled because he saw some hot girl on the other side of the room he wanted to chat with. I don’t have any siblings, but Connor is what I imagine an older brother to be like, totally annoying and completely self-absorbed.
Now as I take a big breath of fresh cool air, I stand among the lavender in the garden. Exhaustion nips at my shoulders, and I long to take off my heels. It’s nice to get dressed up, as it doesn’t happen often, but my fluffy socks and a warm cup of tea at home beckon me. At least it’s peaceful in the garden. I enjoy the quiet and look up at the night sky. It always comforts me. I love seeing it clear of clouds and bright with stars.
“Hey.” A voice startles me, and I jump a little, looking around. Hudson.
“Hey. Shouldn’t you be inside? This is your welcome party, after all,” I ask, smiling as I feel butterflies fluttering in my stomach as he looks right at me as he walks down the garden path. He was warmly welcomed tonight. Tanner is obviously proud and happy to have him home, and the two of them worked the room all night. Talking, mingling, smiling, owning the space like only billionaires can, with people staring at them, all jostling to speak to them. He steps up beside me, so close our arms brush, and I take in another breath, my shoulders lowering as my body temperature rises at his proximity.
“I needed a minute. All the formalities are done, so I thought I would just take a break. You?” he asks.
“Same. I just needed a bit of air. It’s been a busy night,” I tell him honestly. He looks so good. He’s wearing a sharp suit, obviously expensive from the way it sits on his frame like it was made just for him. His shirt is white and crisp, and his tie is red, the color almost matching my dress. The strapless gown now helps me cool off outside, but I shiver as a slight breeze ghosts across my bare shoulders.
“Here,” he says, shrugging off his suit jacket.
“Oh, it’s fine. I’m okay,” I say quickly, not able to help another shiver that runs through my body.
“Take it, Lacy. You’re cold. It’s just a jacket.” He smiles as he places it around my shoulders. His movement is careful and considered, so I don’t miss the way his fingers trail on my bare shoulders, my skin prickling at his touch, the feeling traveling down my body as I struggle to breathe. I try to pull myself together. It’s been a long time since I had a man touch me and I wanted him to. Even longer since they touched my bare skin.
“Thank you,” I say, succumbing to his kind gesture. I don’t usually like to take people's help. I prefer to look after myself, but I guess it’s just a jacket. I stand quietly for a moment, not confident in my ability to talk right now. We had a nice afternoon at the diner, but we had Harvey there as a buffer. My dating history is sparse and all from college since our small-town high school didn’t have a lot of options. Not that college was full of potential boyfriends for me either. I shiver again just thinking about that time.
The few college boys I dated were extremely underwhelming in all aspects. I lost my virginity in my dormitory during my sophomore year. The guy I was seeing took me on a few dates, and I liked him, but after a few weeks together, he moved on. There was another boy who showered me with affection and swept me off my feet, but again, after we had sex, he seemed to cool off on the idea of being with me. By the time I hit my senior year, between work and study, my time at college was different than most kids. Parties and boyfriends were not something I indulged in because, when I wasn’t studying, I was working to pay my way and helping to support Mom. Then everything happened, and I couldn’t get away from college fast enough.
I grab the lapels of Hudson’s jacket, pulling them around me as a small breeze flows through, appreciating the warmth it now provides as I’m enveloped by his scent.
“The stars look nice and bright tonight.” He looks up at the midnight-blue sky. I lift my gaze upward and take in the evening.
“That one there…” I point to a bright star in the sky. “It’s called Sirius, also known as the Dog Star. It’s the brightest star in the night sky," I tell him.
“It sparkles bright. What about that one?” he asks, pointing upward, and I smile at his interest.
“I think that one is called Canopus. It's actually a giant star, ten times as big as the sun. It’s much farther away than Sirius, but exactly how far away remains a mystery.” I love the stars. It’s always so peaceful to take them in. Life almost stops at night when I stare up at the sky.
“What about that one?” He points again, testing me now, his body and mine joined at the side. Warmth runs down my arm as it brushes against his.
“That is the Coma Star Cluster. It doesn’t look like it, but it’s a group of fifty or so stars,” I say, enjoying myself. I don’t get to take time out like this very often. Sure, I catch up with Victoria when I can, but that’s different. Usually, our conversation is about work or the town .
“You know so much about astronomy. Did you take a class in college or something?” he asks, sounding intrigued.
“No. I just spend a lot of time looking up.” I suddenly feel a little silly about it all.
“You can’t really see too many stars in the city. I forgot how beautiful it was here,” he says quietly, and I look over at him, catching him staring at me. My heart thuds harder before I swallow and pull myself together.
“So did you have a nice night tonight?” I ask him, steering the conversation back to him.
“It was great. Thank you. I know you and Victoria organized it all. I appreciate it.”
I give him a small smile. Sure, I helped organize it, but that is my job.
“What about you? Did you have time to relax? Enjoy the evening?” He turns his body to face me as he pockets his hands in his trousers, looking at me intensely like my answer matters to him.
“It was great. It’s always nice to get together like this. But…”
“But what?” he prompts me to continue, frowning.
“But Rochelle forgot to drop off my favorite chocolate cookies that I had ordered for the dessert table, and now I’m craving them,” I say with a broad smile, even though I feel a little lightheaded. My stomach is empty, as I didn’t have time to eat today at all with all the preparations for tonight taking priority. I’m so hungry I could eat for days.
“Hmmm… I’m starting to think you have a bit of a sweet tooth?” he says cheekily.
“Guilty as charged. Life is too short not to enjoy all the things that bring us joy,” I tell him, knowing he understands.
He watches me for a moment, a look of awe on his face. “You are such a breath of fresh air, you know that?”
“Is that a good or a bad thing?” I ask, laughing, hoping for the former.
“Good. Definitely good,” he says, stepping back to my side, and we continue looking up. “What’s that one?” He points upward.
“That’s Betelgeuse, it has a red color to it.” I don’t know what it is about Hudson, but I feel nervous every time he’s around me. I don’t have that with any of my bosses, other friends, or any previous doctors that we have seen. Although none of them have his looks, his confidence, or his openness.
“Like the movie?” Hudson asks, and I turn to look at him and freeze. I didn’t realize how close we were. We’re mere inches apart, his body now giving me more warmth than his jacket does. My heart rate spikes, my throat becoming drier.
“Movie?” I ask, breathless and confused. He’s looking down at me, and I can feel his warm breath hit my skin. His eyes gaze into mine, and I swear my heart thuds so hard he can hear it.
“Like Beetlejuice ? The movie with the guy in the black-and-white striped suit? You know, say his name three times and he appears?”
I frown, having no idea what he is talking about, my brain suddenly misfiring and not connecting because I’m caught up in his eyes, his warmth, his scent.
“Are you telling me you have never seen Beetlejuice ?” His words are low, like a hum, almost teasing me as his eyes trace over my face, taking in every inch. His eyebrows rise a little, and his lips turn up into a small smirk. He’s enjoying himself, and I realize that I am too.
“Never. I have no idea what you are talking about.” I shake my head, smiling.
“Shit, I’m older that I thought,” he murmurs, and I laugh.
“You’re not that old… maybe a little gray…” I tease. He has a small sprinkle of gray at his temple; otherwise, his hair is as black as the sky tonight.
“Hopefully, wise as well… Maybe we should go sometime?” Hudson asks, and I clear my throat before I speak.
“Go?” I ask.
“Go out together. I can take you to the movies to see Beetlejuice . It’s a classic.” Is Hudson Hamilton, billionaire from the city, one of the country's leading doctors, asking me on a date?
“Like a date?” I ask and immediately regret it, but Hudson smiles so wide it’s almost blinding.
“Yeah, Lacy, like a date,” he confirms, and I feel his hand grab mine from where they dangle between us.
“Ohh…” I exhale, shaking my head, because the whole thing is ridiculous.
“I don’t date.” I know I need to say it, even though the words feel bitter on my tongue, and instant regret settles in my stomach. I want to go out with him. I really do.
“You don’t date?” he questions slowly, his face puzzled, a small smile still on his lips as he tries to understand what I’m saying. I take a deep breath to bring me back to my senses. I need to wrap things up here and head home. I need to get a load of washing on, prepare Mom’s meds for tomorrow, eat a little something before collapsing into bed.
“I can’t date,” I say again, my mouth shooting off entirely on its own as I take a step away from him. It’s for the best. Nothing can happen. I shuffle a bit, wondering how he will take the rejection. Anxiety crawls up my spine, thinking about how another older man treated my denial. I want to go out with him; I know Hudson is different. The way we talk, the way we are together. It’s all different.
“You can’t date?” he clarifies, looking even more puzzled.
“No. I can’t.” I give him a small nod, glad he understands.
“Not date generally or not date me?” He tilts his head, his eyes locked on mine.
“Not date. Anyone. It isn’t just you. I mean, you are…” I trail off as I wave my hand over his frame. “Well, you… and I am… busy,” I tell him and he continues to watch me, his smile small, almost like he’s trying to hold in laughter.
“So what if you had some time? Would you be open to a date then?”
I’m surprised about his perseverance. He isn’t pushy, isn’t violent. He’s a bit coy, flirtatious, funny. Yes is on the tip of my tongue. If my life was different, if I didn’t have to manage so much, then yes. That’s what I want to say.
“But I don’t,” I say quickly, really needing to pull myself together. “Have time, I mean.”
“I haven’t dated in a long time, Lacy, but I can wait. ”
I think about his words. He is a widower, and I’m sure probably still madly in love with his late wife.
“Wait?” I ask, confused.
“Until you’re… not busy.” He smirks, and my eyebrow rises, a small smile toying at my lips.
“Unless you have some special magic potion that can free up my life…” I start to say, trying to figure out exactly what is happening and failing.
“Challenge accepted.” He grins wider now before he lifts my hand to his lips and kisses the top of my knuckles, and I almost gasp. His lips are soft, the feeling of them tender on my skin, the buzz trickling around my body. It’s almost as if time is standing still as I stare at him, and he stares at me.
“Hudson!”
We both startle at the sudden voice that breaks through our conversation. I take a deep breath and pull Hudson’s jacket tighter, shaking my head, trying to get my thoughts in order.
Hudson clears his throat and runs his hand through his hair.
“Coming!” he shouts, sounding frustrated, and I take the seconds to compose myself. Shit, Hudson Hamilton wants to date me.
“I need to go. I swear my brother always knows where to find me,” he says, smiling, starting to step away.
“Oh, your jacket.” I move to pull it from my shoulders.
“Keep it. Stay warm. I will grab it from you tomorrow. Good night, Lacy.” He gives me a wink before turning and walking back up the path, his strides long and strong.
“Good night,” I say quietly. As I watch him retreat, I wonder for the briefest moment what it would be like to be kissed by a man like Hudson. Would it be soft, slow, hard, or fast? Then I remember who he is and who I am and start to feel deflated. My shoulders sink, and my heart feels heavy. We can be friends. Acquaintances. Maybe even share a sundae at Rochelle’s from time to time. But we can’t date. We can’t be anything. I don’t have time. I can’t go out and have a great time and leave Mom at home. What kind of daughter would do that? Leave their sick mother at home while she was getting wined and dined by a billionaire night after night.
I push my selfish feelings down and take a deep breath to lower my racing heart. As I stand in the peacefulness of the night, I look back up at the sky. I can’t see it yet, but I look at where the Heart Nebula is usually positioned—the small galaxy that is in the shape of a heart. I have only ever seen it a couple of times, but as my own heart pounds, I search harder, needing to see it. I finally spot it and release a heavy breath. It’s faint, but it’s there.
A little like my own heart, I suppose.
I smell smoke. Gasoline fumes burn my nostrils. I wriggle around and try to move but feel trapped.
Help! I yell, but my voice sounds muffled, the material around my mouth tight.
I see Jasmine. I see the shed. I see Hudson. Hudson.
“Hudson!” I jolt upright, panting. My room is dark, the house quiet, my labored breathing the only noise.
“Shit,” I say, scrubbing my face, my skin clammy. My bedsheets are rumpled around my body. I look at my phone on the bedside table. Two a.m.
“Great,” I mumble before I lie back down, my body involuntarily shivering, my hands tightly gripping on to the sheets as I try to take deep breaths. One, two, three, four. My eyes look toward the small armchair in my room where Hudson's jacket is draped neatly. I hesitate, but my body is jittery, and there’s no way I’ll be able to rest. So I jump up and grab it, taking it back to bed with me. Draping it over my torso, I bring it up to my neck and take in a deep breath.
The slow intake of air helps my pounding pulse, my muscles to stop twitching, and the tension to ease from my body. I close my eyes and see him. I see Hudson. But not from that night anymore. From tonight. His smile wide, looking handsome in his suit, his hand holding mine, and I calm myself and keep my eyes closed, thinking of him.
And for the first time in a long time, I don't open them again until morning.