Out of fear, I’d let him have his way for a very long time. Annabelle was right. I was afraid. I’d kept everyone at a distance. Relationships lasted only a season. I paid people to take care of me instead of leaning on friends or, in Lexi’s case, family. I’d spent the past twenty years working myself into the ground so that I was safe, untouchable, but what I hadn’t realized was that I was lonely.
It wasn’t until after my stroke when I was vulnerable that I discovered I not only needed Lupita’s mothering, Juan’s steadfastness, Jackson’s friendship, and Annabelle’s affection, but also wanted all of those things. And I wanted my sister. I wanted Lexi back in my life. I didn’t want to be so alone anymore.
I looked at Jackson, knowing that there were tears in my eyes and for once not feeling ashamed of seeming weak.
“You’re right. Will you help me?” I asked. I met his piercing gaze and said, “Please . . . brother.”
Much to my horror, Jackson watered up. He looked like he was going to full-on cry. Instead, he hugged me tight. It was like being hugged by a bear. Then he laughed his booming laugh and slapped me hard on the back. Ouch.
“Let’s do this,” he announced.
For a second, a nanosecond really, I wondered what the hell I had just done.
Annabelle
27
The day of the gala roared up on us with the speed of a breakaway locomotive. The days prior were spent in a frenzy of last-minute details. Because Lexi was hip deep, working onsite with Jackson still acting as her driver/bodyguard, Sophie took it upon herself to pry Lexi away from the development to get cleaned up for the big event.
The afternoon found us at Benz Hair Design, being blown out and styled by Barb and Ben Fimbrez, the owners of the salon, of which Soph was a longtime customer. Barb, a pretty woman with a thick mane of beautiful black hair and a contagious smile, took one look at Lexi and hustled her into a chair, clearly realizing she had her work cut out for her. I waited while Ben sat Sophie down in his chair and began to work on styling her hair in the updo she wanted for the gala.
I thumbed through a magazine and listened to them talk. Soph was telling Ben the latest happenings at our office. He was a good listener and knew exactly when to crack a joke when Soph started to get too uptight about the business. The fact that he could do that while wielding five different hair implements at once made him a wizard in my book.
When Soph was finished, it was my turn in the chair. Barb was still working on Lexi as they’d decided to give her hair a little boost since it had been sorely neglected for the past few months. Ben asked me what I wanted to do with my hair. I had no idea. Honestly, the thought of going to the gala without Nick being there depressed me to no end.
I hadn’t seen him since the night he left my house. The curtains remained drawn, and there was no sign of life coming from his home. I hadn’t even seen Lupita, Juan, or Jackson. I almost wondered if everyone had moved out and I was there on the property by myself.
I shrugged and Ben, in his dress shirt and jeans and perfectly cut silver hair, studied me from behind his glasses for a moment. “Are you willing to trust me, Annabelle?” he asked.
“Sure,” I said. I figured I had nothing to lose; besides, Soph’s hair had come out perfect. The man clearly had skills.
“All right then,” he said. The wizard set to work, and I tried not to think about the coming evening and how I was going to have amazing hair, an amazing dress, and no boyfriend to share it with. It made me mad all over again. Damn it.
* * *
We dropped Sophie off at her house to get ready as she was driving to the gala with Miguel. Then Lexi came with me to my house, where she and I would get dressed. Given that neither of us had dates, we’d decided to go together.
We were just getting dressed when there was a knock on the door. It was a big thumper of a knock, and my heart leapt into my chest with the crazy hope that it was Nick, that he’d changed his mind, that he’d be there for Lexi’s big night regardless of his stupid pride. I yanked the door open. It wasn’t Nick.
Jackson stood there, looking amazing in a tuxedo with his beard trimmed and the smell of bergamot pouring off him in waves like he was a walking air freshener called scent of man.
“Hey,” I said. I’m a dazzling conversationalist, I know.
“Hi, Annabelle. I’m here to drive you and Lexi to the gala.”
“You are?” I asked. I did not know about this. I turned toward the bedroom, where Lexi was getting ready. Did she know about this? “Lexi, your driver is here!”
She came out of the bedroom with her newly highlighted and curled hair, carrying a flirty pink lipstick that she had applied only on her upper lip so far, and wearing her body-hugging sky blue trumpet gown, which plunged in the front and had a slit up to mid-thigh on the side. It showed off all of her curvy assets to their best advantage. Soph had picked it out, natch.
“My what?” she asked.
“Driver,” I said. I gestured to Jackson, who was standing there in his tuxedo, a stunned expression on his face as if I’d just smacked him upside the head with a rolling pin. It wasn’t a great look.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Lexi asked.
“I’m your escort,” he said.
“Says who?”
“Says Nick.”
“The same Nick who’s not going tonight?” she asked. She held up her hand. “Forget it. I changed my mind.”
“What?” Jackson and I asked at the same time.
She looked at us, and her pretty hazel eyes were anguished. “I can’t do this. The New Dawn development was never supposed to be about me. It was supposed to be about me and Nick, about the two of us doing something together, but he just keeps pushing me away. This whole thing has been for nothing and I . . . I just can’t! I’m sorry!”
She whirled around, her skirt flaring, showing off her long lithe legs, as she dashed back into my bedroom and slammed the door.
Panic began to thrum through me. Everyone who was anyone was going to the gala tonight. The freaking mayor would be there! If Lexi didn’t show, we were so screwed. Damn you, Nick Daire! As if I wasn’t mad enough at him on my own behalf; now I was devastated for Lexi and everything we had worked so hard for over the past few months.
“Do you mind if I . . . ?” Jackson gestured to the closed door.
I waved him on. “Go for it.”
Moving with a grace that always surprised me for such a large man, he disappeared into the bedroom, closing the door softly behind him.
I didn’t want to eavesdrop so I went to the kitchen and poured myself a medicinal glass of white wine, which I sipped while I waited. I checked my reflection in the mirror. My hair was holding its long stylized curls, thanks to Ben, and my makeup was finished. My gown was a vintage number from 1962 that I had picked up in a thrift store in the Melrose district. It was off-the-shoulder and dipped low in the back, made of a form-fitting crimson lace over cream-colored satin that boasted a matching deep red satin bow, which perched above the slit at the back of my knees, making it flirty and fun and, more practically, possible to walk.