Chapter 31
Vanessa
“You’re a lifesaver, Vanessa. Couldn’t have done this without you.”
Silas beams at me from his seat in the small conference room at Built to Excel’s headquarters.
“It was my pleasure. Truly. You’ve done all the hard work. I just fancied up the details, added photos, and told them why they should fork over the cash.”
“Well, you’ve done a fine job. I’m tempted to reach into my own pocket and give BTE some money.”
“We’re kind of looking for more than whatever’s in your wallet, Silas.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” he says with a chuckle.
“But seriously, there’s real heart in this proposal.
” He holds up the draft of the grant application I completed last night.
If approved, BTE will be the recipient of a fifty-thousand-dollar technology grant from the Boilermaker Foundation.
“I can tell the person who wrote this has a passion for helping the poor. Understands the barriers. But also understands the triumphs. And this isn’t condescending at all.
Because Lord knows, I’ve seen a lot of that in my work. ”
“I can imagine.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to make this your next career?”
“Ha. My current employer might have something to say about that. My rent would probably also like a word.”
“Yeah, no one’s making big bucks here.” He sets down the papers and leans forward. “So I know you can handle a grant proposal, but can you handle those kids out there?”
Later today I’ll be teaching a class on money management and trying very hard not to bore these kids to death. “I think I’ll be okay. I’m just going to go over my presentation one more time.”
He smiles warmly. “Did Jason give you any tips?”
“Um, no. We aren’t really…”
He tips his head to the side. “Oh? I assumed you two were…”
“I’m not really sure what we were, but whatever we were, we’re not that now.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s fine. We’re just not a right fit.”
That’s not entirely true, but Silas doesn’t need to hear my sob story. The thing is, Jason and I are a great fit, but we’re stuck in limbo, being held hostage by my poor judgment and his stubbornness. It’s a terrible place to be.
“Hmm.”
I fiddle with the papers in front of me to avoid looking Silas in the eye. “Yeah, hmm. Uh, I’m going to grab some dinner and eat it while I prepare.”
“Right,” he says, clapping once then rising from his chair. “I’m going to get out of your hair. I’ll send in the kids when you’re ready. Good luck.”
“Thanks. I’m going to need it.”
“Just be yourself. That’s more than enough.”
For the first time in a long while, I’m beginning to think that’s true.
Jason
“Hey, Silas, what’s up?”
“Hey, Jason, you busy?”
“No, I’m walking to my car. Lots of noise out on these streets, though.”
“It’s okay, and sorry to bother you.”
“No bother. I’m done for the evening and heading home.”
“Oh, you’re still in Manhattan?”
“Yeah, just left the office.”
“I hate to ask, but is there any chance you could stop by? I’m looking at a large hole in the rec room’s ceiling, and I’m worried it’s a sign of something that’s only going to get worse. With the kids hanging out here, I just don’t want to risk another chunk of plaster coming down on them.”
“No need to say more, Si. I can drive over there now. See you in a bit.”
“Thanks so much. I’ll see you when you get here. Appreciate it.”
Thirty minutes later, I park my truck across the street from BTE’s home base in Hamilton Heights.
This part of Harlem always surprises me.
Each street has a different character, so you never know what you’re going to stumble across until you’re right on it.
A walk down Convent Avenue alone is enough to make me want to buy a brownstone here; too bad I’d never be able to afford it.
Not anymore. Not with the way real estate prices in this area have skyrocketed as of late.
When I enter the lobby, I see teenagers hanging out in the lounge area. Friday night is reserved for outside speakers and workshops, so I understand why Silas would want me to take a look at the ceiling as soon as possible.
I stop at the front desk and greet the receptionist. “How’s it going, Martha?”
Martha, a middle-aged woman who definitely smoked most of her life, answers with a gravelly sigh. “These kids are getting on my last nerve.”
“How can that be? They were getting on the only nerve you had left the last time I was here. There are no more nerves to get on.”
“Oh, hush,” she says, a playful twinkle in her eyes. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
“Stop flirting with our visitors,” Silas tells Martha as he strides toward us.
“Stop worrying about what I do,” she replies, her eyes narrowing on him.
“I’m her boss,” Silas tells me, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “You’d never know it.”
“I’m his boss,” Martha explains. “He keeps forgetting that.”
“You two should stop messing around and get married already.”
Silas and Martha glance at each other in surprise, and a flush creeps up Martha’s cheeks.
“Right, well, let me show you the problem,” Silas says, scurrying away.
A minute later, I’m staring up at a missing tile in the rec room’s drop ceiling. “You’re saying an entire tile just fell onto the floor and didn’t break? Broke off cleanly like that and dropped to the ground?”
“I mean, I wasn’t here when it happened, but that’s what it looks like.”
“No, it looks like someone removed the tile and placed it on the floor. Could the kids be pulling a prank on you?”
He scoffs. “The kids don’t have time for games like that. They’re not twelve anymore.”
“Then could you be pulling a prank on me? Because this makes no sense, Silas.”
“I don’t understand it,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “When I came in, I found it like this, and the first thing I thought to do was call you.”
“Fine, fine. I’ll get the ladder from the supply closet and take a look.”
Silas shuffles to a corner of the room. “It’s right here. Figured I could save you some time.”
I spend a few minutes up on the ladder, surveying the ceiling with a flashlight. Nothing’s amiss, so I fit the tile back into place, climb down the ladder, then wipe my brow with a handkerchief. “You have nothing to worry about. At least not now. If anything changes, let me know.”
He places a hand on his chest and sighs in relief. “That’s good news. I was thinking there was something structurally wrong. The last thing we need is an unexpected repair bill.”
“No, you’re good. Besides, you have me if something comes up. I literally know every person who could fix whatever’s broken.”
“Good, good.” He checks his watch. “Hang on a sec. I need to call in the kids for their workshop. It’ll be starting soon.”
“What’s the topic tonight?”
“Budgeting for Financial Independence.”
“Could have used that when I was in high school. Would have saved myself a lot of grief if I hadn’t opened a credit card account in college.”
“Yeah, that’s what I want them to know. The tips and tricks and how to avoid costly mistakes. Want to say hello to the speaker?”
I draw back, raising a brow. “Why would I?”
“Because you know her. The speaker’s Vanessa Cordero.”
I stare at him for several seconds as all the thoughts of her I tried to push away flood my brain like a tsunami. “Silas.”
“Yeah?”
“Is it a coincidence that you brought me here under suspicious circumstances when she just so happened to be the speaker for the evening?”
“I’m hurt,” Silas says, not looking hurt at all. “I thought you knew me better than that.”
“I do know you better than that, which is why I’m asking.”
“Just say hello. I asked her about you earlier, and she looked so sad. And because I know you, I figured you might need a push.”
“How’d this come about? Her being here, I mean.”
“She’s been helping me out.”
“Since when?”
“She called me the Monday after you brought her to Suenos.”
“She never mentioned anything about it.”
Silas shrugs. “Guess she just wanted to help for the sake of helping.”
“What does she do when she’s helping?”
“She wrote a grant application, and she’s advising me on some tax stuff.”
“And today?”
“I think this is a onetime deal. And before you ask, she offered, so I took her up on her offer. She has the right expertise.”
“Huh. Interesting.”
“Isn’t it?” he asks, walking away. “If you need me, I’ll be in my office.”
“I just bet,” I say, staring after him.
His goodbye wave is the only acknowledgment I get, and then he leaves me with a fuckton of feelings I don’t know how to handle.
Damn, I miss her. There’s no question about that.
So what’s the holdup? In all of this, I’ve never questioned whether Vanessa’s a good person.
Her presence here today just reinforces what I already know.
She’s giving back. Without wanting any recognition for it.
She’s not some evil mastermind hell-bent on screwing me over. Far from it.
The answer hits me like a two-by-four: I’m hesitant to let her back in my life because I’d be giving her a pass on her and Lisa’s scheme, not because I think she’d lie again.
In which case, I’m resisting on principle, when I could be with someone who has the potential to make me happier than I’ve ever been.
Vanessa isn’t my birth father. Vanessa isn’t Elyse.
No, Vanessa could be my person. As if on cue, I can hear Denise pushing me to think about the what, the why, and the consequences, and there’s no doubt in my mind: Vanessa matters more to me than sticking to my hard-and-fast rule that a lie can’t be forgiven.
She and I deserve a second chance. A fresh start.
And I’m ready to give it to her. If she wants it, that is. God, I hope she does.
Vanessa
I’m closing my container of takeout Chinese food when someone clears their throat. I whip my head up and see Jason standing at the room’s threshold.
A pang immediately hits my belly. As usual, he looks gorgeous. That’s no surprise. And yeah, I’d love for him to put me in an orgasm-induced coma, but I miss talking to him, teasing him, laughing with him. God, if only we’d had a fair shot to make us work.
I survey his features more closely. He’s tired; the slight bags under his eyes are an easy tell.
I wonder if he, too, has been having trouble sleeping.
Does he think about me? At night? All day?
If so, he’s not alone. I’ve made myself scarce at La Flor when I know he’s around.
Thankfully, he and his crew will be done tomorrow morning.
After that, I won’t have to worry about running into him at the store.
Apparently, I do have to worry about running into him here.
“Hey,” I say, forcing a half smile to hide my nervousness.
“Hey,” he says, taking a few steps into the room. “I hear you’re running a workshop tonight.”
“Yeah, I’m looking forward to it.”
He tilts his head. “Are you sure about that?”
I blow out my cheeks. “You’re right. I’m nervous as hell.”
“It’s all right. These kids know when someone cares. I bet they’ll pick up on your good energy.”
“I hope so.”
“You doing okay?”
“I’m fine. You?”
“Fine too.” After a beat, he adds, “I kind of wish I was more than fine, though. You?”
“Same.”
“I was going to ask you what would help get you there, but that’s a cop-out. I just…I miss you.”
Hearing those three words, I take in a sharp breath. It’s too soon to know what this means, but that can’t be a bad thing, right? “I miss you too.”
“Feels like we didn’t really get the shot we deserved.”
“I was thinking the same thing when I saw you standing there.”
“Maybe we could try again?” he asks. “Go on a date? A real one this time.”
“That’d be nice,” I say, the tops of my ears warming. “But so you know, all those dates were real to me. I just didn’t realize it yet.”
“That is good to know.”
Before I can say anything else, the BTE participants begin shuffling into the conference room, weaving around Jason and looking between us curiously.
I shoot up onto my feet. “Um, I need to run this workshop. Maybe we could…”
“Right. Another time. I’ll call you.”
“Sounds good.”
“Good luck tonight.”
“Thanks.”
He walks out, and my knees nearly buckle.
That was all so civil and sterile and nothing like our best days together.
It kills me to know I’m the reason we’re back at the beginning.
But it also makes me proud to know that I’m the reason we’re even on speaking terms again.
I didn’t run this time. Instead, I laid myself bare.
Maybe our best days could still be ahead of us.
“He’s a cutie,” one of the girls, Mercedes, says.
“I know.”
“Is he your boyfriend?”
“No, but I hope he will be someday.”
Perhaps that’s not in the cards for Jason and me. But I’d settle for being his friend. Okay, who am I kidding? I want it all: friendship, companionship, and sexship. (Yes, that’s a word.) We’ll see if he calls.
For now, I have a workshop to get through. These young adults deserve my undivided attention, so I’m going to stop thinking about Jason for the next hour.
Yeah, Vanessa, good luck with that.