Chapter Nine
Lily
? “Don’t Hurt Yourself (Feat. Jack White)” - Beyoncé?
We are on our last stop and as I am about to close my book, someone bumps into my back, knocking the book out of my hand.
I quickly bend down to pick it up before it gets shredded to pieces by the cockroaches of New York and turn to glare at whoever bumped into me.
But as soon as I reach for my book, another hand reaches at the same time.
I look up to see Mateo’s brown eyes hiding under circular glasses. His chocolate hair is slicked back, and he is wearing a button-down shirt. From the cut and the stitching, it’s not a cheap shirt but a pricey name brand. And those are definitely Saffiano leather loafers.
“Lily. Hi,” he says, handing me my book.
I stand up, pushing my book into my chest. “Hi, Mateo.” I look around to see everyone getting off the train. “What are you doing here?” I know he works in stocks, or something. So why is he on the subway? I’m sure he makes great money—according to the tips he gives me.
“My car decided not to start today, and I didn’t have time to wait to get it fixed.”
I nod, as I continue to look around, waiting for space to open so I can get closer to the door when the subway stops.
“New York Practice.”
“I’m sorry?” I ask, looking back at Mateo.
“You’re studying law?” He points to the book in my hand.
I feel the train jolt and the doors open. I find an opening and squeeze through people heading to the doors. Mateo squeezes right behind me as we get off.
“Um, yeah, at NYU,” I say.
“That’s awesome. So why are you working at Opal?”
I take my phone out of the back pocket of my jeans, seeing I have less than ten minutes to get to class. “Someone has to pay for my six-figure tuition.”
“Well, I’m glad I can help.” He winks at me.
I smile at him, walking faster in the direction of campus.
“Let me take you to lunch. Do you have a break between classes?”
I stop in my tracks. I can hear his footsteps stop behind me as well.
I knew it was coming. I only have this 8 a.m. class today, but I don’t know if I want to tell him that.
I tap my fingers on the book crushed into my chest. If I continue telling him no, what if he stops coming to Club Opal?
I would be a thousand dollars short each week.
He walks in front of me, lifting his glasses higher on his nose and smiling.
“Okay,” I say.
“Good. I will pick you up in front of the school at eleven.” He nods and walks in the opposite direction. I pull my phone back out and check the time, now sprinting to campus.
An hour and a half later, I am dazed and starving.
My professor returned our issue spotting test, and I got a C-.
It’s better than an F, I guess. I think about dropping out of law school every day and switching to fashion.
My desk drawers at home are filled with drawings and dreams. My closet is packed with scrap materials and my sewing machine.
But I am so deep in tuition debt that if I drop out and go into fashion, I will never pay off either one.
My debt will die with me. They will bury my bills inside my grave, hoping I will pay them in the afterlife.
I will be stuck in this broken down brownstone with Celeste as my roommate for the rest of our lives.
Unless she leaves me for Rowan.
I sit down on a bench outside of campus, looking at my phone. I still have two hours before Mateo meets me. The plan for this lunch is to keep it professional. I do not shit where I eat. I see him for work, he pays me good money to sit at his side and look pretty, and that is it
Even though he looked incredibly sexy in his glasses with that slicked back hair.
I will not. Fuck. Mateo.
I pull my hood over my hair as the wind starts to pick up, wrapping my arms around my body for warmth.
Five years in New York and I’m still not used to this weather.
I grab my bag, hoisting it onto my shoulder, and start walking to downtown Manhattan.
I could find a place to grab a coffee and start my paper on constitutional law.
I stand in line in a cute little coffee shop. It reminds me of the one I used to work in, but more modern. I show them my NYU ID after ordering to get a discount and walk to an empty table to sit down and wait for my name to be called.
I look around the shop. There are people standing in every corner, waiting for their coffee.
I stop and squint when someone catches my eyes.
He is wearing a hat, but some of his blonde strands are out, covering most of his forehead and hanging over his sunglasses.
He’s also wearing a leather blouson and judging by the color and design—a crocodile, lamb, and deerskin mixture—I’m positive I already know whose collection that jacket comes from.
I get out of my seat to start walking toward him.
I will pretend to head to the bathroom, but I want to see if I am right regarding the jacket, and I will only know by the little triangle that is stitched on the right-hand side.
I like to guess people’s outfits. A little game I like to play with myself.
Ten times out of ten, I’m usually right, and the closer I get to the mysterious man, the more sure I am of myself.
The man pulls his glasses down his nose, his eyes meeting mine and I stop in place.
“Jace?”
His eyebrows pinch together, and he grabs my arm to pull me closer to him. “What are you doing here, álainn?” he asks through gritted teeth.
Is he angry at me? Why is he angry at me?
He is the one who left without saying “bye” a couple weeks ago, running out of the house to his car as if he was disgusted with me.
Like he had somewhere better to be. I can feel the heat on my skin start to rise, the back of my neck breaking out into a sweat.
“I’m getting coffee. What’s with the hostility?” I rip my arm out of his grasp. Usually when I have sex with someone, I get a text or a call the next day asking when they can see me again, but I heard nothing from him.
His shoulders straighten, and I have to bend my neck to look up at him. He faces forward, looking out into the crowd of the coffee shop.
“I need you to leave,” he says in a dark tone.
I remember Celeste telling me they’d gotten involved with the Italian mafia, but Celeste went on with her life, doing what she always does. She didn’t stop her life as if someone were hunting us down. If she doesn’t feel any danger, then neither do I.
Jace’s head turns to look back down at me, his eyes burning a hole through the lenses of his glasses. What can he do in a coffee shop that would make me feel unsafe?
I hear the bell to the front door of the shop and Jace focuses on the sound, nearly breaking his neck as he puts his head back down to look at his phone. I quickly turn to see who came through the door.
Mateo?
I look over my shoulder at Jace to see he is still pretending to be busy on his phone. I roll my eyes and start walking to Mateo.
“Lily. Hi. What are you doing here?” He lifts his arm to look at his watch. “I was going to pick you up at eleven,” he says.
“Yeah. I decided to walk down here and get some coffee beforehand.”
He shrugs his shoulders. “Well, that works out then. Did you already order?”
I nod, but then feel a cool chill run down my neck as someone brushes into my shoulder. When I look to the side, I see Jace walking to the front door.
“Well, let me order and we can sit outside and talk,” Mateo says.
I keep my eyes on Jace as he walks out of the coffee shop, stopping in front of the window and shaking his head no.
What the fuck is going on?
I focus back on Mateo. “Yeah, I will meet you out there.” I give him a smile and speed walk to the front door, pushing it open. I feel the wind picking up, blowing my hair into my face. I look to my left and right but don’t see Jace anywhere.
The front doorbell chimes again. When I turn around, Mateo is standing there. “Wow, you got yours fast.” I say, taking the seat closest to us, pretending I wasn’t just standing in one place turning in a circle, looking around like an idiot.
“I’m a regular here.”
I smile as he hands me my coffee and takes a seat with me.
He removes his glasses, pushing them through his hair.
His tan skin looks like he just got back from a vacation in Palm Springs.
He covers his wrist with a luxurious watch and his pinky finger is decked in a large medallion ring with a symbol too small for my eyes to make out.
“How was class?” He asks.
My phone vibrates on the table as an unknown number pops up. I look at Mateo and give him an apologetic smile before grabbing my phone, walking away, and bringing it to my ear.
“Hello?”
“Leave.”
I pinch my eyebrows and start looking around. I turn back to Mateo and smile at him before walking further away.
“álainn, I need you to walk away. Get back on the subway and go home.”
“Jace?” I whisper, shaking my head. “No. I know what happened and why Celeste and Rowan went to Italy. If Celeste isn’t stopping her life and hiding, then neither am I.”
I can hear that angry grumble through the phone, and it makes my stomach churn in unimaginable ways.
“Please, just do this one thing for me.” His voice softens to a whisper.
“What are you going to do, shoot him in front of all these people? He’s not in the mafia, Jace. He works in stocks or something.” I keep looking at the crowd that surrounds the sidewalks, trying to spot him somewhere. He has to be close if he knows I’m still here with Mateo.
“You don’t know him, Lily.” “And I don’t know you,” I spit.
The line is silent, and when I lift the phone, I see he hung up on me. I raise my head, looking straight in front of me, and see a tall figure on the other side of the street wearing a hat, glasses, and leather jacket. A crowd of people walk past him and when the crowd clears, he’s gone.
What type of Joe Goldberg move was that?
I shake my head and walk back to the table.
Jace telling me to leave made me a bit nervous, but I don’t see an issue with Mateo.
He works in stocks, for fuck’s sake. Or maybe Jace is jealous—Oh, I can eat that up.
He is jealous that Mateo is interested in me and that I am giving him the time of day.
“I’m so sorry, but I must go. Work emergency,” Mateo says, holding his phone in the air and shaking it. “Can I drop you off somewhere?”
“Oh no, it’s fine. I have errands to run.” I lie.
He grabs my hand, lifting it to his mouth, and places a soft kiss on my knuckles. See? Jace has him confused because I see nothing wrong with this man. I am pretty good at reading personalities. I said I never shit where I eat... but maybe I need to let that rule go.
I watch as Mateo stands from his seat and walks toward a car.