“And that was the end of our money problems,” Rake finished, still musing in that calm, quiet tone. “But my mom and Nonna think it was the start of all our other problems. We’re not married.”
“What?” As if his tone wasn’t unnerving enough, Rake was kind of all over the place with his storytelling. Odd to feel chilled in the Venice sunshine, while happy tourists drifted around them, hailing gondolas and vaporettos to hurry off somewhere else. Delaney, who usually liked Italy, wanted very much to be hurrying off somewhere else.
“We’re confirmed bachelors. And if we were women, people would say we’re sluts. My mom has a huge problem with it, and the nuclear option does, too. Which is asinine.”
“It is?” Wow, you’re definitely holding up your end, conversationwise! Double thumbs-up!
“Mom never wanted to marry; Grandma did but hated her husband. And yet the solution to all our problems is to shackle some poor woman to our rich yet empty lives.” Rake sighed. “That’s what I used to think. I never found anyone I wanted to pull into my orbit, be with, forever. Until…” Then he stopped, verbally and physically, ignoring the tourists he’d inadvertently forced to swerve around him, and looked right at her.
“Until…” she managed. It wasn’t what she was thinking/hoping. It wasn’t. The end of his sentence wasn’t “I met you.” And the follow-up wasn’t “Will you marry me, darling?” This wasn’t a romcom, or even a romantic suspense. This was real life: brutal and dirty, sometimes, and sad, and stuffed with people you didn’t want to need but did.
“The clues were all there,” he said, like that was an answer. “I was happy to ignore them. I couldn’t wait to ignore them. Isn’t that ridiculous? But I really am broke, Blake and me both. Blake can’t see Nonna’s hand in this, but it’s there. They really did take our money, they’re really grounding us like we’re still teenagers. Lillith really might be mine, Donna really might have been murdered, strange men have really been following us, and you really knew all about it.”
He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her so she was facing back the way they’d come. He kept talking, only now it was so much worse—now she couldn’t see his face.
“I’m not a genius,” he told the back of her head, and she shivered, “but I’m not a moron, either, as even Blake would agree. I ignored the evidence that I was in real trouble because I didn’t want to face what that meant. Not just being broke—that’s a pain in the ass, but it’s survivable. I won’t like it, but I know how to live without money. Millions get by every day. That wasn’t the biggest problem. No, I didn’t want to face what your complicity meant. Did you ever like me? Or was it just a job? An errand to run in between stuffing Easter baskets?”
“Rake—”
“I didn’t get a burner, even though I could have gotten one a lot quicker than an iPhone, one you so obligingly ordered for me. I could have followed up with Blake’s increasingly alarming texts right away, but I didn’t.”
“You couldn’t have kno—”
“I didn’t ask you about the DNA tests, though they’ve probably been in your safe for forty-eight hours. And the very next day, when I had the perfect opportunity to reach out to Blake and get some answers, I decided to hold off and hope you were going to kiss me again. Then I took a nap. These are not the actions of a smart person. They’re what someone who wants to stay blind does.”
“Rake…” What? What could she say? That without his money and at her mercy, he was vulnerable in a way he’d never been in his life, and there was no shame in being afraid to face that? That yes, she was complicit, but never for spite, and she never would have let any harm come to him—as his two would-be muggers could attest? That there was nothing she wouldn’t do to keep Lillith safe and make the Big Pipe Dream happen?
Was there even a way to say Hey, Rake, don’t beat yourself up without sounding stupid and condescending?
“How do I get it back, Delaney? What’s the trick I have to perform to get back in my mother’s and grandmother’s good graces? Keep working for you? Giving back? Making cakes and stuffing baskets and driving for Meals on Wheels, until the nuclear option is satisfied I’m going to be a Good Boy? Adopting Lillith so she’s mine whether or not she’s mine? So you don’t have to take care of her until she’s an adult?”
Christ, she wasn’t ready for this conversation. She hadn’t taken the job expecting to even be conflicted, never mind falling for him. She’d thought having the moral high ground would be empowering. Instead, it made her feel small, and mean.
She shook herself free of his grasp and turned. She grabbed one of his hands, took a step back toward the hotel, and tugged. He didn’t budge, and she wouldn’t hurt him to make him follow. She could only ask. “Rake, come back with me, it’s getting chilly.” It wasn’t. She was so upset and nervous and embarrassed and confused, she was sweating. And he was in that silly sweatshirt she’d bought him; he wasn’t cold, either. Now she wished she’d bought him ten shitty sweatshirts. A dozen. Told her employer to fuck off twice. Never promised anything. Saved him from the muggers and then given him everything in her wallet. Showed him the DNA results instead of walking that particular tightrope. Kept Lillith away from this, from them. Donna was right. It’s a Lost Boys lifestyle; it’s no way for actual adults to live. She was right to be done with us. “C’mon, okay?”
He shook his head. “No, thank you.”
That cool courtesy: the worst. “Please?” God, he just looked so sad and calm; she was amazed to find she couldn’t bear it. “C’mon back with me, come in and—and we’ll order room service, you love that—”
“I do love that,” he said thoughtfully.
“—and we’ll get a bite and some sleep and you’ll—it’ll be better. In the morning.”
“Sorry” was the polite reply. “I haven’t earned the money for a bite and some sleep.” The worst of it was, he didn’t sound particularly biting or nasty. Just tired. “In fact, if I’m going to be your charitable dray horse, I need to find much cheaper accommodations. And you haven’t answered me: How long does this go on? When will I be considered an adult who can handle his big-boy checkbook?”
“It’s not—it’s not like that.” Once, sure. Now? No. She was ready to give him all of her money at this point, the money she’d earned and the money still owed her, the money she had to take when people thought they could promise to help, when they thought their word meant nothing. The money that made her blighted childhood worth something, granting her a skill set she could use to undo all the wrongs of her early life.
For the first time, she got a glimpse of why someone would take something that wasn’t theirs and give it to someone else. “You don’t have to—come on. Come inside. I’ll tell you what I can.”
“But not all of it.”
“I can’t,” she said with fierce desperation.
“Because you gave your word.”
“Yes. I know that sounds—”
“It sounds fine.” And just like that, he let her steer him back toward her
(our, dammit!)
hotel.
“It’s fine?” she repeated, not quite believing his 180.
“Yeah. I know there’s stuff you have to keep to yourself, because I’m doing the same thing. I’ve done something I’m not ready to tell you about,” he said, but she was so happy they were going back, she didn’t give half a shit.
“Okay. That’s okay.”
“You’ll be angry when I do tell you.”
“All right. That’s—” She took a breath, tried to imagine what he wasn’t telling her. Took the coward’s way out and decided she didn’t want to know. Let out her breath in a whoosh. She felt lighter, which was stupid. Nothing had been resolved. Everything was shitty. He didn’t like her anymore, and he would never, ever love her. Lillith was still in limbo. Donna was still dead. “Fair. That’s fair. So I won’t—I mean, I’d understand. Even if I didn’t like what you told me.”
“Yes.” He looked down and shifted their grip; now she wasn’t yanking him down the street; now they were holding hands like any one of the couples around them. “That’s a big thing for you, right, Delaney? Maybe the biggest. Fair play.”
“Yes.”
“That’s all right, then,” he replied, and even smiled a little.