Page 43

The rain is coming down in sheets, blurring the windows in a wall of water.

I sit on the settee under the bay windows in the dressing room, having arrived earlier than necessary for my shift today due to the inclement weather.

My hands trail the navy and white Chinoiserie fabric, no doubt imported from somewhere, like everything in The Orchid.

The skies are a swath of dreary gray, and the trees bordering Central Park sway against the fierce winds, the harried sounds muted through the double-paned glass. Storm clouds are low on the horizon, blanketing the city in an oppressive weight.

A relentless burning forms behind my nose.

I know it’s not because of the email I received earlier from Emerson Clarke, the investigator I hired in the search for my birth father.

He mentioned while my birth certificate had no father listed on it; he was able to track down some leads through other records but would need more time to vet through them.

It’s a disappointment, that’s for sure. But it’s not something completely unexpected. After all, the man never came to search for us. If he’s so determined to stay hidden, he probably covered his tracks well.

I retrieve my purse from beside me, Mom’s classic black leather flap bag she loved and protected her entire life. My guess is, it was a gift from my father, whoever he is. After unzipping it, I trace the inscription on the leather tag affixed to the inner lining.

The number of stars in the skies pales in comparison to my regard for you.

It’s beautiful, if not bittersweet .

I could sense the love in the words, and yet, their story did not end well.

If only real life could imitate novels, where happily-ever-after is waiting for all of us at the end.

Maybe he isn’t alive anymore, and Mom is finally reunited with him in the afterlife.

The pang in my chest deepens as my vision blurs. I failed the one thing I swore myself never to do, to give my heart away to a man who has no business being mine and followed in my mom’s footsteps.

I can feel my resolve weakening, the temptation growing into a bottomless pit of hunger, famished for the exhilarating rush, the quickening of my breath, the fluttering in my gut only one person can give me.

Steven.

His impassionate words about helping me out of whatever predicament he thinks I’ve gotten myself into.

Would it be so bad to rely on someone else for once?

In times like this, when I’m staring into the dreary skies and the heavens pouring grief out from the clouds, I wonder how nice it would be to lean against a strong pair of shoulders, to close my eyes and relinquish all control, and to be loved and taken care of by someone else.

My throat tingles and thickens.

Riiiing.

I look at the caller ID on my phone. My girls.

Forcing my face into a bright smile, I answer, seeing three concerned faces staring at me.

“What is this? An intervention?” I joke with a chuckle, which sounds fake even to my ears.

Taylor frowns, the black heart on her nose glinting from the lamplight in our apartment. “Grace, we’re all worried about you. You haven’t been yourself the last few weeks.”

“What are you talking about?” I stand and pace around the room.

“You were staring into space when we watched the finale of Sex and the City last weekend. That’s your favorite episode!” Belle frowns .

“I don’t even know when the last time I heard a random factoid from you was,” Millie adds and lets out a sigh. She looks like she’s in her bedroom.

Taylor runs her hands through her inky strands and arranges them into a bun. “Don’t bother denying it. You’ve been dull since you left your banking job and then everything went downhill when Mom passed.”

Her eyes take on a wet sheen. She clears her throat, her voice thickening, before continuing, “I know it’s been hard with Mom gone. I miss her a lot too, Grace. But I don’t think that’s it. You’ve been a shadow of yourself, especially the last few weeks, and we’ve all noticed it.”

Plopping back down on the settee, my hand smooths the white shirt dress, my fingers rearranging the fine fabric so the thigh high slit isn’t as prominently displayed.

“Nothing is going on, girls. You guys are too sensitive. Can’t a girl just have some off days?”

Millie raises her brow and exchanges a glance with Belle, who has joined Millie in the bedroom.

“Just ask,” Belle hisses, nudging Millie in the ribs.

“Fine. Fine.” Millie winces before turning her face toward the camera again. “You don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to, but is this sudden depression because of a man?”

“What man? You know I don’t do relationships—”

“Adrian told me the other night during our weekly check-in call that Steven seems to be in a funk over you. I know you told us not to update you on him after you left the job, but he hasn’t been eating, sleeping, or anything.

I think he even missed some TransAmerica shareholder meetings, and that is unheard of.

At least that’s what Adrian said he heard from Rex Anderson, who I think heard from Ryland. ”

Belle rolls her eyes heavenward. “These men gossip more than we do, I swear—”

“What? Steven hasn’t been taking care of himself?” My heart stutters to a stop at the image of Steven suffering .

His haunted eyes, gauntness in his handsome face, the skewed tie and otherwise unkempt appearance in his standards. The way he grabbed onto me last night that seemed much more desperate than sex and lust. It was almost like he was gripping a life raft and fighting to stay afloat.

My eyes burn and my lips tremble. I bite my cheek, hoping the sharp pinch of pain will keep me from crying.

Taylor and the girls exchange another glance, if that’s even at all possible during a video call, and Millie straightens up.

“Grace, we know you’re hiding something, and we want you to know we love you and we’d never judge you for anything you’re doing for whatever reason.

We fully support you.” Her eyes sharpen with knowledge, and I let out a shuddering exhale.

“W-What do you mean?” My pulse roars in my ears as dread snakes its way in.

Millie winces and blows out a deep breath before blurting, “We know you’re dancing at a burlesque and strip club.”

My face heats. “You girls know ?”

She nods. “Adrian told me Steven made a scene at the casino night at The Orchid and also bought out Trésor for a night for you. And you told us you were dancing, so it wasn’t too hard to put two and two together.”

Millie leans closer to her screen. “Grace, we don’t know what’s going on with the two of you, but we know this goes way beyond a friendship .

If you guys are both so miserable and pining for each other, why don’t you give him a chance?

From everything I know about Steven, none of this behavior from him is normal. It’s decidedly abnormal.”

My eyes flutter shut as I think about him, the only man my heart has clamored for, the only person ever to make it skip multiple beats, riot against my rib cage like it wants to break free and join its partner nestled in his chest. The only man who’s made me feel safe, whose words felt sincere.

The only man, despite all our talks of friendship and ridiculousness, is the person closest to making me feel romantic love and longing, such that every day without him feels like an agonizing chore, and everywhere I go, I see and experience fragments of life I want to share with him.

I blink my eyes and sniffle, moisture coating my vision, and my lips tremble.

I miss him. I miss him a lot.

Somewhere along the way, he’d stolen my heart and never gave it back. The bird and the fish, pining for each other in a story that’d never end well. And yet, the yearning won’t abate, and I feel irrevocably changed, like I’m incomplete without him.

“Oh, sweetie,” Millie whispers, her own eyes turning red. She’s the hopeless romantic among the four of us.

I pour my heart out, telling them what happened with the loan shark, with the job offer, and Belle’s face turns ashen when she hears her role in introducing Sofia Kent to me and what I do here at Trésor.

“I-I didn’t know, Grace. I should’ve found out what work she was looking for before recommending you.

There’s nothing wrong with working at the burlesque club, and I’d wholeheartedly support you if it’s something I know you’d be interested in, but knowing you, it was probably the last thing you wanted to do.

God, why are you so stubborn, woman? You could’ve just taken my money and saved yourself a lot of misery.

” Belle’s face is flushed now as stares at me.

“I just don’t want to depend on anyone. I don’t want money to affect our friendship!”

“You dummy! It’s okay to lean on someone else when you need help.

That doesn’t mean you are weak. In fact, I’d say it takes strength to ask and receive help.

That’s what friends are for. At least the ones that are worth keeping.

You’d do the same for me!” Belle shakes her fists at the camera, her voice impassioned.

I bite my bottom lip to stem the fresh onslaught of tears threatening to break free from my eyes.

“You don’t judge me for it? Dancing in scanty clothing in front of rich men?” I whisper, my voice thick and shaky.

The girls shake their heads vehemently .

“I just wish you told me. When the girls told me earlier, I couldn’t believe it. But then, of course…how did you get such a large sum of money in such a short time to solve all our problems without the job offer?” Taylor sniffles on screen, her dark eyeliner running at the edges.

Her brows furrow and her slate eyes are clouded with guilt.

“I should’ve asked more questions. I know you did everything for me, for our family, and you never complained or said a word about it.

And if anyone should dance, it should be me.

Heck, I’m the dancer in our family. I wouldn’t have let you—”

“And that’s why I didn’t say anything. And it’s fine.”

“But on a brighter note, the fashion mogul in me has been wanting to compliment you on your attire and makeup the last few months, because it’s time you’re embracing God’s gift instead of hiding away in frumpy clothes, but that’s beside the point.

” Belle gives me a teary wink, her nose red, and I snort, the weight in my chest lightening.

She continues, “And being a dancer is badass. I could only imagine how you’re getting all the men to drool over you. They can look but not touch. It’s the ultimate power move.”

My lips tilt into a smile as I think about what Camille said last night.

Taylor murmurs, “You know. Beauty is not a fucking weakness or a sin. I know you’ve hidden yourself because of Mom and the men in her life. She wouldn’t have wanted that for you.”

The heaviness I’ve been carrying in my chest lightens a fraction and I realize life is all about perspectives.

I was so afraid others would be disappointed in me or look down on me, but it turns out they don’t care.

Perhaps I have been wearing the biggest lens of prejudice, oblivious to how it’s been affecting my life.

I did what I needed to do for my family and it’s something I should be proud of.

I look at the girls, finding their eyes warm and kind, still the very girls I’d take a bullet for. Maybe I’ve been living life all wrong.

Taylor swallows and lets out a shaky sigh.

“Not all men are the devil, either. I know it’s hard for us to open our hearts to men and shit when everyone we’ve known is a disappointment, but from what Millie tells me, Steven seems to be one of the good ones out there. Why don’t you give him a chance?”

My lips twitch from the emotional sentiments of my curse words-loving sister. She has a soft, beautiful soul underneath the black polish and grunge makeup.

Millie nods resolutely. “I’m not saying this because he’s my brother-in-law.

I know he may be a workaholic and a cold hard ass sometimes, but he has a warm heart inside those suits and he treats his sisters well, including me.

I’ve never seen him get so worked up over anything or anyone before.

I don’t know what’s going on with the two of you, but if you’re miserable and he’s miserable, don’t you think it’s worth giving each other a chance? ”

Suddenly, the door to the dressing room flies open and Camille bursts in, a cloud of bright energy and sizzling excitement. She pants heavily, like she ran up a flight of steps in high heels. “Genevieve. You need to come.”

“What’s going on?” I stand up, my phone in my hand, the girls still on the screen.

“Your man showed up an hour ago, and Sofia turned him away just like you asked. Well, he didn’t take the hint, and…” She heaves in another large inhale, a few strands of blond hair sticking to her sweat misted skin.

My breath lodges in my throat as I hold my phone in a death grip. “And what? Spit it out, Camille.”

Silence permeates the room except for Camille’s soft panting and the faint sounds of the wind howling and the rain splattering against the glass from the outside.

Camille’s eyes widen and she says, “He’s outside in the rain, yelling for you.”