Chapter 2
Chapter
2
It often marveled her how she had made this
place her home. The apartment upstairs consisted of three bedrooms,
two baths, a small living room and a tiny parlor, she had taken as
her own. Both hers and Zach's bedrooms boasted balconies, overlooking
the towering buildings gracing uptown and at nights, when she was
through with the bar, she would sit with a glass of wine admiring the
stunning lights, vying with that of the stars.
The vibrant cityscape had become her
refuge. The city had a way of making her feel both insignificant and
infinite, a comforting paradox that she had grown to cherish. She had
found solace in the rhythm of the streets below, the distant hum of
nightlife, and the occasional breeze that swept through her haven.
Despite the chaos that often surrounded
her, she had carved out a sanctuary of peace and reflection. The
parlor was adorned with eclectic pieces collected from her travels,
each item holding a story, a memory, a fragment of her identity. It
was her escape within an escape, a place where she could lose herself
in thought and find herself in the process.
Stepping out, she lifted her face to the
gentle breeze and closed her eyes as it pulled her in. It was a
lovely evening. The taste and scent of spring was in the air. The
winter had clung tenaciously but had lost the battle and spring was
making its presence felt. It had rained earlier and the scent of it
was still lingering.
Snapping out of her reverie, she went back
inside and closed the glass door with a snap, making sure to fasten
the locks. They were on the third floor, but she had promised her
brother she would not take chances.
A smile touched her lips as she anticipated
the night's activities. The place was already filling up, she could
hear the strains of music seeping through the floorboards. Stepping
to her large closet, she contemplated her wardrobe. Something sexy
and appealing and loose. With that in mind, she pulled out an
oversized baby blue shirt with gold buttons and black leather pants.
Perfect, she thought with a careless toss of her head.
*****
"I was just about to holler at you."
Zuri trailed her fingers on the banister
and gave her brother who was bounding up the steps an arch look.
"Why?" She asked sweetly. "Was
I taking too long to get ready?"
He gave her an exasperated look and did not
bother to respond. "Gary is manning the bar and Lila and Yvonne
are on kitchen duty. The tournament has already started. You were the
one who planned the damn thing, you need to get down there." He
hesitated and turned to look at her. "Sean is here."
She felt the quick flash of resentment,
before forcing composing herself.
"History."
"Is it?"
"Yes, dammit. He's married and it was
more than a year ago. He can stop by, it's a bar and as long as his
money is green, he's welcome."
Zach's face hardened. "If he tries
anything-"
"I am perfectly capable of kicking him
in the nuts all by myself. Go and take your shower. I'll be fine."
Still he stood there, staring at her. She
had decided to leave her hair loose and the dark brown curls with the
blonde tips tumbled artlessly around her shoulders. Her makeup was
flawless. The shirt was sliding off one shoulder, showing inches of
her superb skin.
"Mind you don't break your fool neck
in those skyscrapers." He muttered, referring to her strappy
sandals.
"I've had years of practice." She
smiled at him and tossing her head, made her way down the stairs.
"Don't dawdle."
Her parting shot had him shaking his head
as he climbed the rest of the stairs and went to his suite. Going
straight to the bathroom, he undressed, dropping the article of
clothing on the floor and stepping into the shower. And reassured
himself that his sister knew how to take care of herself.
The sounds of laughter and conversation
grew louder as she descended the stairs. She felt a sense of
exhilaration mixed with anticipation. Tonight was meant to be a
celebration, a release from the mundane. She pushed thoughts of Sean
to the back of her mind; she wouldn't let his presence spoil the
evening.
The bar was bustling with energy, and she
could see Gary deftly handling orders while Lila and Yvonne navigated
the kitchen with impressive efficiency. The tournament was in full
swing, and the room was filled with competitive banter.
Zuri approached the bar, her gaze scanning
the room for familiar faces. She found herself smiling as she
recognized friends and acquaintances, each absorbed in their own
world of fun. Gary acknowledged her with a nod, and she felt
reassured that things were running smoothly.
She decided to join in the tournament, her
competitive spirit igniting. The first round was fierce, but she held
her own, drawing on years of practice and a natural flair. Her
laughter mingled with the crowd's, creating a symphony of joy that
filled the room.
She made the rounds, her energy and ready
smile putting the patrons at ease. The men made the usual passes and
were rewarded by her flirtatious banter and full-throated laugh. She
was beautiful and vivacious and had her fair share of admirers. She
spotted Sean at a table and skirted the area. She was not ready to
deal with him yet.
Making her way around the counter, she took
over from Gary as he piled drink orders on a tray and made the rounds
around the room. On the upper level, a rousing game of pool was in
progress with cues clanging and clicking, balls rolling along. In
another corner, Mike, a regular was holding a pint of beer and daring
anyone to beat his record at darts.
It was a familiar scene. Muted music
filling the air and sounds of laughter and conversations with the
occasional friendly arguments from people who had been coming to the
establishment for several years.
Turning her attention to the men seated on
stools around the bar, she quickly and efficiently filled orders. The
enticing aroma of fries and juicy burger rose from the kitchen and
tempted the palate. She threw a quick smile at her brother as he took
over and started building the pints.
"Two o'clock." He murmured,
handing the glass of whiskey to Sam as he settled on a stool and
reached immediately for the bowl of mixed nuts that was always
provided. "Unattended minor."
"Are you sure?"
He only lifted a brow. With a resigned
sigh, she made her way through the crowd on the dance floor, avoiding
the eager hands reaching for her.
The boy looked lost and dazzled as he sat
there slouched in the corner of the booth, the hoodie draped
partially over unruly hair. Sliding in across from him, she reached
for the bowl of nuts and took out a few.
"Hi."
"Hey." He slouched even further,
his eyes downcast.
"Here alone?"
"So?"
Smiling at the belligerent tone, she
studied what was a handsome face with stormy gray eyes and a curl to
the lips. A lock of sable brown hair, tipped with gold was hanging
over his forehead, giving him a vulnerable look.
"It's my duty as part owner of this
establishment to demand to see some ID. How did you get in past
Boris?"
"That guy's name's Boris?" he
snickered. "Lame."
"Be that as it may, he would not have
allowed you to step foot inside without checking for an ID. How old
are you?"
He hunched even more. "Sixteen."
"Try again."
He shifted uncomfortably, eyes darting
toward the exit. "I'm seventeen."
"Uh-huh. And I'm the Queen of
England." Her tone was light, teasing, but her eyes held a firm
insistence. "Let's try this again. How old are you really?"
After a long pause, he finally muttered,
"Almost fifteen."
She nodded, leaning back against the booth
as she considered him thoughtfully. "All right, almost fifteen.
What's your name?"
"Jason," he mumbled, still
refusing to meet her gaze.
"Okay, Jason, where are your parents?"
"Not here."
"That much is obvious." She
sighed, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Look,
it's not safe for you to be here alone at your age. Do you have
someone you can call to pick you up?"
He shook his head. "No, I'm fine. I
can take care of myself."
Her lips tightened in a thin line. "I'm
sure you think so, but it's my responsibility to make sure you're
actually safe. Who do I need to call?"
Jason's eyes finally met hers, a flicker of
defiance mingled with uncertainty. "You're not calling the cops,
are you?"
"No, I'm not calling the cops, not
yet. How did you get here?"
He shrugged one shoulder. "I took a
cab."
She studied him for a moment, before
handing him the bowl of nuts and waited while he dug some out and
tossed them in his mouth.
"Do you have a phone?"
He gave her a suspicious stare. "Why?"
"Because I need you to call someone to
come and pick you up."
"Can't I stay for a bit?"
"I'm afraid not. This happens to be a
bar and you're underage. We don't need the cops coming in and causing
trouble." She held out a hand. "Phone."
"Okay, fine. But I'll make the call."
She sat there and noticed his hesitation before punching the number.
Turning away slightly, he spoke quietly, but she caught snippets of
the conversation and heard the strident female voice. And caught the
miserable look on his face.
"My grandmother is coming to pick me
up. I'll wait outside."
"No deal."
"You can wait here, where I can keep
an eye on you," she said firmly. "I don't want you
wandering off and getting into more trouble."
His expression turned mutinous, and he
tried to outstare her, but was the first to look away.
"Fine. What's the chance of getting a
beer?" His smile flashed and had her blinking. It transformed
his face and had a dimple peeking out from his left cheek. The hood
had shifted, giving her a clear view of lustrous brown curls streaked
liberally through with gold. He was going to be a heartbreaker in a
few years.
"Nice try. The most I can do is a can
of ginger ale or coke."
He eyed her for a minute and secretly
thought that she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. His
young heart immediately started crushing.
"Thanks. What's your name?"
"Zuri. Don't go away." She slid
gracefully from the booth and sauntered towards the bar.
"Two cokes in a can." The noise
level had risen in the last few minutes, with the game dominating the
large screen television placed strategically on the second level.
"Who's the kid?"
"Name's Jason, tried to pass himself
off as sixteen."
Her brother snorted as he handed her the
drinks. "Get rid of him."
"His grams is picking him up. He's
sweet."
Zach slid her a pained look. "He's not
a puppy you can keep. I want him out the door before someone knows
he's here. Should I have a word with Boris?"
Grabbing the cans, she shook her head. "He
slid in with a group. You know that Boris is a stickler."
Her brother just grunted; his attention
diverted by a crowd coming over to order drinks.
Sliding back across from Jason, she handed
him the ice-cold soda.
"Grandma is here."
"Where?"
He turned towards the doorway and drew her
attention in that direction. Her eyebrows lifted as she caught sight
of the elegantly dressed woman coming towards them. And she looked
very familiar. Zuri's practiced eyes noticed that the rose-pink silk
of the skirt suit was a designer label. The woman's blonde hair was
swept back from her face, and she was wearing diamonds at her lobes.
"Did you catch her on her way to a
party?"
Jason grinned and for the first time in his
life, he felt the tension and sadness melting away.
"She's always dressed like that."
He rose as the woman came closer, light blue eyes darting towards
Zuri.
"Thanks for making him call me."
The distress was evident on her classically lovely face. "Young
man, you're in big trouble." Her voice was soft and cultured and
despite the disapproval in her tone, it was obvious the boy had her
wrapped around his finger.
"Does dad know?" Zuri caught the
tremor in the youthful voice and wondered at it. Of course, the boy
had sneaked out of the house and made his way to a club. If she was
his parent, she would tan his hide for causing her such worry.
"I could not tell him." She
extended a delicate hand towards Zuri. "Thank you."
"No problem. Goodbye Jason."
He turned towards her, taking her hand in
his. "I liked hanging out with you."
"I'm too old for you." Grasping
his hand, she pulled him in for a kiss on the cheek. Hiding a smile
as the blush stained his face, she squeezed his hand, before letting
go and walking away. Not before she heard the woman giving him a
stern lecture. She had reached the counter before she realized she
had not gotten an introduction.
*****
Jason felt the clamor of fear bursting
inside his chest when the doors were opened and his father stood
there.
The color fled from his face and for a
second, fear paralyzed him. He was going to boarding school now and
there was no stopping it.
"Where the hell are you coming from?"
the deep voice was icy cold, gray eyes boring into his.
He opened his mouth and no words came out.
And he was trembling.
"Darling-" His grandmother
touched his arm lightly and he settled slightly. "It's all my
fault." She had spent the entire journey, berating him and
watched the abject misery on the boy's face.
"It's entirely my fault." She
drew Jason's hand through her arm and patted the trembling flesh,
reassuringly. "I was feeling a little cooped up and restless and
asked Jason to take a ride with me." She held her son's
inscrutable gaze steadily, praying that she could carry it off. She
had not approved of him sneaking out, but knew why he did and did not
want him punished even more.
"He's not supposed to leave the
house." Her son reminded her tightly.
"I know and I apologize for going
against your wishes."
"Orders."
"Yes of course."
"I'm sorry." Jason said in a
small voice, bringing his father's attention to him.
"Go to your room." Jack snapped.
"And stay there."
"Yes sir." Taking a deep breath,
Jason fled.
"Mother, I would like to have a word."
Without waiting for her to respond, he spun on his heel and strode in
the direction of the green and gold salon. Curtly dismissing the maid
who was hovering, he went to the cabinet to pour himself a drink.
Ingrained courtesy had him glancing at her over his shoulder, one
thick brow raised.
"Nothing for me, thanks." Taking
a seat on a rose-colored padded chair, she folded her hands in her
lap and tried to appear nonchalant.
"You're indulging him."
"Someone has to."
She watched as he brought the snifter to
his lips, his eyes trained on her face. "Why don't you say it?"
"I don't know what you mean." Her
hands tightened on each other, and she had to force herself not to
look away.
He smiled grimly. "I'm a lousy
father."
"That's not true. You-"
"And I learned from the very best."
Tossing back the drink, he put the glass down with precise care. "The
old man was an excellent teacher. He taught me well."
Her eyes flickered away from his and she
felt the familiar pressure in her chest.
"You can be better."
"I would not know where to start. Did
you really take him for a drive?"
"Why would I lie?"
"Good question." His expression
turned cold and forbidding. "And if I find out he's defying me,
I will make good on my promise. He needs discipline and needs to
learn that he cannot do as he damn well pleases."
Millicent pressed her lips together and
tamped down her frustrated anger.
"He's just a boy and boys act out."
His eyes glinted at that. "I remember
trying that several times and I am sure you can recall what happened
when I did."
"Jack-"
"I was locked in the wine cellar for
the rest of the night. It was dark and damp and I was ordered not to
use any lights. And I was not allowed any food. You never came to my
rescue."
A keen slice of pain shimmered through her
and had her pressing a hand to her chest. "He would not let me."
"Of course not. He was a tyrant."
His expression was grim. "I prefer a more direct approach. I
have no intention of locking the boy in the wine cellar, he would
probably thank me for it, in any case."
"His name is Jason." She said
primly.
Gray eyes lasered into hers and had her
lifting her chin. "I know his name. I am a product of my rearing
mother, remember that. Goodnight."
She sat right where he left her, shoulders
straight, spine rigid. Her hands were clamped in a tight fist, and
she had to fight to get her breathing under control. She sat in the
lovely room, with the beautiful antique pieces scattered around the
elegant space. The rose silk walls
were covered with expensive artworks. A Michael O'Keefe was hanging
over the baby grand piano. It was just there for show. She could play
very well but had not bothered to sit on the bench and lose herself
in the pleasure of allowing the music to seep into her soul.
The creative part of her had died a few
months after her marriage to a man she thought she was in love with.
He had been so charming, so handsome and gracious. He had fooled her
into believing that he was a different person.
Blinking away tears, she rose gracefully.
She would continue to try for her grandson's sake and hope with time,
her son would come to realize what he has before it was too late.
*****
As she walked out of the salon, the quiet
house echoed with memories she would rather forget. Each step she
took reverberated through the empty hallways like the ghost of her
past, reminding her of each painful moment she had endured for the
sake of her family.
The rooms, filled with opulence and
grandeur, felt cold and uninviting. The chandeliers sparkled
brilliantly, but they seemed to mock her sadness, their brilliance
contrasting the darkness that had settled in her heart. She wandered
into the library, her sanctuary, where she sought solace in the pages
of forgotten books. She ran her fingers along the spines of the old
leather-bound volumes, feeling the texture that had always brought
her comfort.
She stopped at a window that overlooked the
garden. The moonlight bathed the flowers in a soft glow, and she
found herself longing for the days when life seemed simpler, when her
burdens were far less heavy. Her thoughts drifted to Jason, hoping
that the love she carried for him would somehow bridge the gap
between him and his father.
The ticking of the old grandfather clock in
the corner reminded her that time was relentless, moving forward
despite her wishes otherwise. Determined to make a difference, she
straightened her shoulders and turned away from the window, ready to
continue her silent battle for her grandson's sake.
Through the darkness, she saw a glimmer of
hope, and for the first time in years, she felt a spark of
determination rise within her. She would protect Jason and guide him,
even if it meant fighting against the shadows of her past.
Firming her lips, she made her way up the
staircase.
*****
"You look pensive." Zach wandered
into the shared sitting room and handed her a bottle of beer. "What's
going on?"
Lifting the bottle to her lips, she
stretched her legs out and welcomed the attention he gave them by
rubbing her screaming insteps.
"I know who the kid is."
Pressing his thumb against her flesh, he
glanced at her. "Who is he?"
"Jason Hadley. I thought I recognized
him. I was certain of it when I saw his grandmother."
"Classy lady. Looked like she did not
belong in our primitive setting. I thought she was going to jump out
of her delicate skin."
She stared at him, "You really don't
recognize the name?"
He thought for a moment and shook his head.
"You uneducated dolt." She poked
him in the stomach with her toe. "Jack Hadley."
"Who-" realization hit him like a
thunderbolt. "Ah."