“I think you do.”
“You don’t know anything about me to even make that statement.”
I snatch her sunglasses off her face, cursing myself for making her flinch. “Go ahead. Tell me again how much you love your life.”
“I do.”
But her eyes betray her. They well, and I can see her pain beneath the depths of the lies she tells herself just to survive.
I shake my head. “I’m not talking about a walk-in closet or marble countertops or a luxury fucking car. I’m talking about your life, Callie. Those things you recite when you feel anxious? They’re just for show, meaningless shit that you collect to justify your existence.”
Her bottom lip trembles, and she turns her head to look away from my knowing stare.
“You might tell everyone that you’re happy, that you love your life.” I carefully turn her chin until she returns her gaze to mine. “But I know you’re lying … to them and to yourself.”
“How do you know that?” she whispers.
“Because I was you once. I let myself live a lie because I thought it was easier to stay comfortable where I was, easier to put on a show. But it ate away at me, day after day, and it will do the same to you.”
Her eyebrows pull together, her eyes searching mine for more information that I’m not willing to give.
I’ve already said too much.
“Why do you care about what happens to me?” she asks. “About what I do?”
I’ve been asking myself the same question all week.
I drop my hand from Callie’s face and run it through my hair. “I think the question you need to ask yourself is: Why don’t you care about what happens to you?”
Her mouth falls open, but she quickly clamps it shut when the door to her house swings open, drawing our attention.
Paul steps outside. “Get in the house, Callie.”
She looks from him to me, worrying her lip between her teeth. “Goodbye, Cole.”
I lower my voice and lean in. “Josie will still be here for you when your husband hits you again. And he will hit you again. You’re deluding yourself if you think he’ll stop.”
“Callie,” Paul calls. “Now.”
She turns and scurries up the driveway while Paul stalks down the steps toward me.
Callie whips around. “Paul, what are you doing?”
He keeps his eyes fixed on me. “Going to have a chat with Cole. Go inside.”
I smirk, crossing my arms over my chest.
Please. Give me a reason to hit you.
He stops when he’s almost toe-to-toe with me. “You need to stay away from my wife.”
“Didn’t realize she wasn’t allowed to talk to her neighbors.”
“She can talk to whoever she wants.” His eyes narrow. “Just not to you.”
“And why is that? You feel threatened by me, Paul?”
He chokes out a laugh. “Hardly.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“You’re a lowlife, and I don’t want Callie around a piece of shit like you.”
My teeth gnash together. “Yet she’s with you.”
Anger flares in his eyes, and he takes a step closer.
“Paul, enough.” Callie appears at his side, wrapping her slender fingers around his wrist. “Let’s go inside.”
We remain in a stare down. I use my height to my advantage, glaring down my nose at him, begging him to make the first move so I can lay him out here and now.
“Paul, please.” Callie tugs on his arm again.
Finally, Paul relents, backing away. “Stay. Away. From my wife.”
I flash him a sadistic grin before I turn and stride off his property, my grin curling into a snarl.
For the life of me, I’ll never understand how kind-and-gentle Callie ended up with a prick like him.
I only hope she comes to her senses before it’s too late.
“Let’s break for lunch. I’m starving.”
I toss my hard hat onto the ground and replace it with my worn baseball cap.
Billy’s face contorts in disgust. “Ah, come on. Take that shit off.”
I pull the brim down with a smirk. “Not gonna happen.”
“You’re in Cali now. You can’t be wearing that New York Yankees shit.”
“I’m only here temporarily.”
“You keep saying that.”
Billy is about the only guy here I can stand. Most of the workers are young, arrogant muscle-heads who think they know everything about everything. I tried sticking to myself on this job, but Billy wouldn’t have it. Followed me around the first week like a stray dog, going on and on about some stripper he’d fallen in love with last year. Made it impossible to ignore him. He talks a lot, but at least he keeps my mind occupied.
We head to our spot for lunch at Gertie’s Diner.
I actually like this part of California, though I’ll never admit it to anyone. Lake Arrowhead. It’s a touristy town, and it reminds me of the crowded streets of New York. I feel comfortable here. It’s about an hour and a half from Josie’s house in Orange County. The drive sucks when I’m tired, but it’s a job, and I need the money.
Anything is better than working for Penny’s father.
Gertie, the owner, greets us when we arrive and take our seats on the retro red bar stools at the counter. “Hello, boys. I’ll put in your usual. Filling up your ice waters now.”
“Thanks, Gertie.” Billy dabs his forehead with a napkin. “It’s hot as hell today.”
I wave my hand. “Nothing compared to the humidity in New York.”
“Ah, yes. And the mouth-watering smell of garbage.”
I chuckle. “Knock it all you want. There’s a reason New York is referred to as the greatest city in the world.”
“He’s not wrong.” Gertie places two tall glasses of water in front of us.
“See?”
Billy shakes his head. “You’re both nuts. I’m hitting the head. Be right back.”
Gertie pats my forearm. “Don’t you mind him. Some of us need to get away so we can forget about the things that happened back where we’re from. Though, I suppose it helps us remember all the things we appreciate too.”
I gulp down my water and nod. Gertie might be an elderly woman, but she’s got her wits about her. She’s sharp—too sharp. Sometimes, she looks at me as if she can see my heartache playing like a movie across my face.
She leans in. “How are you doing today, sugar?”
“Fine. How are you, Gertie?”
She wags her long, wrinkled finger at me. “One of these days, you’re going to tell me the truth. None of this fine bullshit.”
“Not likely.”
“Well, you’d better tell someone. Can’t bottle it up and let it eat away at you. You’re too handsome to wither away and waste the rest of your life.”
I raise an eyebrow. “So, it’d be okay if I were ugly?”
She grins, showing off her sparkling-white dentures. “No, but don’t you go making jokes. It breaks my damn heart watching you walk in here every day looking like a lost soul.”
“I’m fine, Gertie. Don’t worry about me.”