Ann Aguirre - Shady Lady

You lost your best friend, and your boyfriend. Had him for less than a week. That must be some kind of record.

“Which one’s yours?” Chance asked.

“The El Camino. You still driving the Mustang?”

He nodded. “I’ll stay close.”

“I’ll watch the stoplights between here and there. It’s not far.”

That said it all. At least the exchange had dried up my tears; I didn’t want Chance thinking I was pathetic. I drove with an eye on my rearview mirror, making sure I didn’t lose him. My heart twisted, because I knew what he wanted—some job done or a reading as a favor. In the latter part of our relationship, that comprised the sum total of our emotional exchanges. This time, though, this time I’d say no. I owed him nothing, and he was square with me. I wanted it to stay that way.

But I’d hear him out for old times’ sake, mostly because I couldn’t face being alone just yet. Otherwise, I’d have to think about all I’d lost: my home, Señor Alvarez, Shannon, Jesse, Kel. The damage was incalculable. Impossible. Unbearable.

No. I’d handle it. I always did.

It was a small park, well kept, with benches, a water fountain, and a playground. More important, it had security lights. We should be safe enough here. But I could stop looking over my shoulder, more or less. Or at least dial the paranoia down to normal levels. I’d walked through fire and come out different, darker, on the other side.

I parked beneath a lamp and set Butch down. Using a nearby water fountain, I filled the dog’s collapsible dish and gave him a drink. He expressed his appreciation with a wag of his tail and then set off to explore.

Chance pulled in only a minute behind me, and strode up the walk toward where I sat idly swinging. The wind smelled of distant mesquite, as if someone in a nearby neighborhood might be barbecueing in his backyard. The simple goodness made me ache. He took the swing beside me, but didn’t push off. His fingers were long and elegant wrapped around the chains.

“The reason I’m here so fast is because I was already on my way to see you.”

I smiled. “Sure. What’s the job?”

“No job.”

“What do you want me to handle?”

If I hadn’t been watching so closely, I would’ve missed his faint flinch. “Nothing. For the first couple of weeks after I left Kilmer, I was so mad at you. Here I’d broken my back begging for a second chance and it wasn’t enough.”

“I got that by the way you drove off without saying good-bye.” And by the way he’d FedExed all my Travis McGee books back to me without even a note. Those were nothing but ash now.

“But gradually, I started thinking about what you’d said and it sank in. My mom helped to explain it,” he admitted.

“How is she?”

“She’s fine. Thinking about opening a second store.”

“It’s doing that well?”

“Homeopathy is hot. People are reluctant to go to a doctor these days because it starts never-ending appointments and expenses. Times are tough.”

“I know. You were saying?” I prompted.

“I realized it’s not fair to expect you to give up everything for me. If we try again, it has to be about what we want. And if you don’t care to live in Tampa, if that brings back too many bad memories or makes you feel like you’re doing all the giving, then I have to make a change.” He flattened his hands on his knees and gazed out over the grass, where Butch had cornered something small and furry. “I called in all my loans. Everything owed me has now been paid. I also hired a guy to help my mom with the store. She doesn’t know it, but he’s also protection for her, since . . . Well, you know. Just in case.”

The certainty in his voice hit me like a fist. He was driving across country, intending to join me in Mexico City, when Chuch told him about the baby? Talk about a leap of faith.

I exhaled shakily. “Why didn’t you call me? Not once. Not in six months.”

Funny. Chance never wondered how I’d feel about his grand gesture. He just assumed I’d welcome him with open arms after a long silence and a bitter parting. No need to discuss anything with me, because I’d always be his for the taking. He still didn’t understand that I needed a full partnership . . . but this was forward progress, at least.

Now I had to decide if it was enough.

“I didn’t want you thinking this was more of my bullshit promises,” he said quietly. “You wanted action, right? Here it is.”

Low, almost desperate laughter burst out of me. “We’re like that couple in the story. At Christmas, she cuts off her long hair and sells it to buy him a chain for his pocket watch. He sells his watch to buy her pretty gold combs for her hair.”

“ ‘The Gift of the Magi,’ ” he said, frowning. “The moral of that story was that it didn’t matter because they had love. Somehow I don’t think that’s what you’re getting at.”

“Not exactly. See, my shop’s gone, Chance, and now so’s your business. Neither of us has anything.”

He froze, studying my face. “I thought you were here because of the baby, but . . . you’re not. At least, not entirely.”

“Hardly. Montoya kept me busy.”

Chance swore in a mixture of English and Korean and then slid off the swing to kneel before me. “What happened? What can I do?”

“Nothing. I took care of it.” With Paolo’s help I had. Yeah, I served as bait in Escobar’s trap, but I’d proven myself more dangerous than anyone expected, using Dumah as my finishing move. “He won’t bother Min—or anyone—again.”

Something like fear flickered in Chance’s face, as if he didn’t quite recognize me. But he didn’t back off. Instead he took my hands in his; as always they felt warm in comparison to mine. Not fever-hot like Kel, nor with Jesse’s safe heat. But familiar and precious, nonetheless.

I expected him to ask why I hadn’t called him for help. He didn’t.

“I suppose there’s no point in asking. Done is done. I want you to know, I understand now. . . . I did you a disservice by not realizing you aren’t the same woman, and if I want to be with you, then I need to—borrowing my mother’s expression—court you properly. There are no guarantees, but you wanted proof that I’m not all talk. Here it is.”

The enormity of it humbled me. “And you’ll go anywhere I want?”

“I’ve no ties anymore, Corine. You take the lead this time. I’ll follow. And I’ll do my best to open up.” Chance lifted my palms and kissed them with a tenderness that acted as the sweetest balm. “I’ll tell you about Lily. I know it has to be different this time, because I won’t get another shot with you.”

Lily had to be the lover who had died because of him. I didn’t remember him ever mentioning her name before. That had to mean something.

There was no telling how much cash he had in the Mustang. If he’d called in all his loans, it must be a lot. We could go anywhere. Seductive thought. Or I could take him to Mexico City, where we could rebuild together. Hard to say how much temptation to try again came from not wanting to be alone, how much I wanted to say yes because I’d lost so fucking much tonight. Was Chance my consolation prize?

His fingers tightened on mine, giving away his tension.

“We take it slow,” I said at last. “Dating, no promises. Not yet. You need to get to know me again—and vice versa.”

I wasn’t the same woman. Not even a little bit. This Corine might surprise him; he might not want her when he realized how deep the shift ran. He believed he loved me, but he didn’t know me, not anymore. Chance remembered the woman who gave up everything for him, followed him blindly, and let him make all the decisions; he loved that complete and selfless devotion. I couldn’t offer that again.