She peeped a smile at me then wandered over to a table in need of serving.
As she left, Rachel finally replied.
Rachel: You didn’t fuck up. It was a conversation I knew you wouldn’t take well. I steeled myself for it.
Rex: I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.
Rachel: No, you shouldn’t have, but we take these things out on the ones we love, don’t we?
A shocked breath escaped me at her words.
We didn’t talk like this.
We never fucking talked like this.
Was this goddamn proof that the calls, even though they’d only been happening for a short while, were working?
Heart pounding and blood rushing in my ears, hope fucking filled me.
Goddamn hope.
I was a murderer. I’d stolen. I’d maimed. I’d broken so many laws I deserved to be locked up—I knew that.
There was no way I should be reacting like a zit-pocked teenager because of her throwaway comment.
But playing it cool with Rachel had never been a possibility.
Rex: We do. Call you later?
Rachel: Yeah. Around six your time?
Rex: Fine with me.
When she didn’t reply, I raised the espresso cup to my lips and took a sip of the strong brew. Flipping the cell in my hand, I contemplated my next move.
I rarely acted without forethought. Trying to predict what circumstances would arise from whatever path I took, but in this, it was too difficult to say.
There were so many goddamn variables where Rachel was concerned that this could blow up in my face, and I was tired of that.
I liked the feeling of us moving forward.
Of us stepping toward something better and brighter than before.
The prospect of me fucking that up and taking us back a couple steps was something I didn’t think I could bear.
Wynter walked past, her tray full, and I kept my gaze locked on her as I calculated the odds and made the call to Lily.
“Lily Lancaster speaking.”
“Hey Lily, it’s Rex.”
“Rex! Oh, my God! It’s so good to hear from you. Do you want Link? I know he’s desperate to speak with you.”
“Yeah, no. I want to speak with you.”
“Me? What? Why?”
Indecisiveness wasn’t something that plagued me often. When it did, it was always with Rachel.
Why?
Because Rachel was strong. Powerful. A ball buster.
She defended criminals for fun and got them out on loopholes because she could.
She was take charge and domineering and a shark that everyone in legal circles knew to avoid.
That was the Rachel the world saw.
I knew the side of her that cried when she watched black and white movies from the forties, that ate up reality TV shows like they were going out of production. I’d watched her down more hot chocolate than I’d ever seen her drink wine, but when she did, it was always a glass of rosé she chose. Ice cream was her crack, and hot fudge was her amber nectar. She was nostalgic and caring and a fiercely loyal friend.
Her vulnerabilities were many, and that was why I was lucky—because she let me see them.
The rest of the world weren’t so lucky.
They just saw the attorney.
I saw the woman.
Flaws and all.
The two distinctly warring sides of her nature were why I was indecisive.
I never knew which side of her I’d catch on any given day.
“Rex? Are you there?”
“Yeah. Sorry. My mind wandered.” I grimaced at just how damn long I’d been sitting there vacillating over a simple fucking decision. Pissed at myself, I drawled, “Rachel tells me you’ve been helping her out with the gala?”
“I have, yes,” she said warily. “Is that a problem?”
“Not at all. I’m grateful. I wish she’d had your help from the start.”
Lily’s nervousness abated. “My mom used to hold these kinds of events all the time. This is… well, I’m in my element.”
“Regardless, I’m grateful that you’re helping her.” Something occurred to me. “Is she paying you or the club?”
“No, she’s paying me.”
I hummed. “I’ll speak with Maverick and have your salary shifted onto the MC’s books.”
“Oh! Well, shouldn’t you ask Rachel about that first?”
“She knows I pay for her staff.”
“Clearly not if she decided to pay me herself,” Lily retorted, her unease clear.
“Mistakes happen,” was all I said. “Anyway, that isn’t why I called you.”
“Oh? It isn’t?”
“No. I want to buy a ticket to the FAST gala.”
Her surprise was revealed by her sharp exhalation. “You? You want to go to a gala?”
My lips curved at her shock. “Yeah. I do. But I want to keep it a surprise. Can you help me out?”
“I, well, oh, I mean, yes, I don’t see why not.”
We discussed the particulars of the ticket purchase for a short while, then she mumbled, “You know it’s black tie, don’t you?”
“I didn’t think I could show up in my cut,” I joked, lifting my cup to drain the last few drops of espresso.
She snorted. “Just wanted to make sure you knew what you were signing up for.”
“I do. Thanks for this, Lily. And… if you could keep this conversation between me and you, I’d appreciate it.”
“You mean don’t tell Link?”
“I mean, don’t tell the rest of the MC. If, need be, you have to tell him, I’d never do anything to come between you and him.”
The sound of a soft breath rushed down the line. “That’s very thoughtful of you, Rex.”
“I’m capable of it sometimes. But, if it’s not urgent, I’d appreciate your discretion.”
“I understand.”
“Okay, send me the details and I’ll make payment later on tonight. Bye, Lily.”
I didn’t wait for her to reply, just cut the call.
Wynter was there, a fresh espresso on her tray, and as I smiled at her in thanks, I told her, “I’m going to that gala of your…” Shit. Rach wasn’t the only one who found the labels hard. “Rachel’s.”
Triumph leaked into her expression. “You listened to me?”
“You were right. It’s important to her and I’ve never gone.”
“That’s really shitty of you,” she concurred, but she bowed down and pressed a quick, unexpected kiss to my cheek. “Thank you for listening.”
As I shot her a sheepish grin when she turned bright red, clearly surprised by the impromptu action, a guy called out, “Wynter! My God! What on earth do you think… He’s old enough to be my age!”
Wynter stiffened, but the dread in her eyes was as solid as a brick wall. She turned woodenly to face the man standing in front of my table and whispered, “It’s not what you think, Dad.”
My brows puckered at her complete about-face, and it made me realize how much she’d opened up to me over the last week.
This was like the first day we’d met—she was cool, standoffish. Awkward, even.
I straightened up and intoned, “Jeremy.”
I knew I’d changed since the last time we’d spoken, but he didn’t recognize me until he heard my voice.