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The guilt and self-loathing present in her tone. I don’t have to hear more to know what she’s going to say. I know this story.
Bailey was the only one who walked away from the accident.
The guilt was her burden to bear.
We both sit in silence until Bailey lets out a deep audible breath, releases my hands, and then reaches for her water. After she takes a sip, she stares at me.
“And that’s my story.”
“And that’s how you ended up in my club. Something I’m happy about, by the way. Your path was rough, but it got you to where you are now, Bailey. Our pasts don’t have to define our future.”
“I basically screwed up my life, Drew. No degree, a string of bad jobs, and an empty résumé, I had no choice. No offense. Silver is a great place, but it wasn’t the best place for me to work. It was the only place.” She places her hands on her lap and looks at me. “My rent was due, so as the saying goes, beggars can’t be choosers. The job paid well, and it was a lot better than my last position.”
“What was wrong with your last employer?” There’s an edge in my voice because when she said it, she stiffened. There’s a bigger story there, and I want to know it.
“Nothing, forget I said anything.” Her eyes shift around the room, and now I’m growing angry. Not at her, but at whatever has her trying to avoid the conversation.
“I’m not going to forget.”
Taking a deep breath, she relays the story. “My last employer was handsy, and I finally quit when I realized he wouldn’t stop. I didn’t tell Harper because she would’ve tried to prosecute him, and what my sister fails to realize is New York City is one big boys club. She can fight the injustices all she wants, but I’m not getting dragged into it.”
I see red.
“Who was it? I want his name, Bailey.”
She sighs. “And this is the reason I didn’t tell Harper.”
“She would have helped you. Like I’m going to,” I grit through my teeth.
“I don’t want her pity. And I don’t want yours. I made mistakes. Now I have to live with them.”
“Everyone makes mistakes, Bailey, but that doesn’t give any man the right to touch you.”
“I know,” she says, peering deep into my eyes. “But it’s done, and I’ll never go back there. You’ve given me that opportunity.”
I take a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. She’s right. She’s no longer in that position, and I’ll make damn sure she never is again.
“Now enough of this heavy stuff,” she says. “Let’s enjoy dinner.”
With that, even though I’m seething at the thought of someone touching Bailey without her permission, we settle into a comfortable silence as we eat.
35
Drew
Guilt settles in my chest.
Bailey opened up to me while I have been less than forthcoming with my own past. I’m not ready to tell her everything, but I need to tell her something. “Are you okay?” she mutters, her voice laced with worry.
Without thinking it through, I blurt out the words. “Remember how I told you I lost someone too?” She nods. “Her name was Alexa.”
Her eyes widen, fully awake now. “Do you want to talk about it?” she asks tentatively, her voice low and soft.
“No,” I say, quickly changing my answer. “Yes. I don’t know. I feel like we should,” I admit.
“Tell me about her,” she prompts, and I do.
“She was gorgeous and fun, and it was easy.” I look off across the room as if lost in a memory, and it makes my throat tighten as my heart beats rapidly in my chest. “We dated on and off for years.” I confess.
“Keep going,” she encourages, so I do.
“She was a talented model, but that career has a short lifespan. She was aging out, so to speak, and was looking for her next move. Both of us had more money than we knew what to do with, and owning a club seemed like the answer.” I huff. “It seemed like a brilliant plan at the time. We came up with it one night when we were high off our asses. It was typical for us.”
“What was?” she asked, eyes wide as though the scene were playing out in front of her.
“Taking bumps under the table. Chasing our next high.” I sigh. “We were young and stupid.”
“What happened to her?” Bailey’s voice is small, scared even. It’s as though she knows exactly what happened but is hoping for a different outcome. One I can’t provide.
“One night, shit just got out of hand, and I wasn’t able to save her.”
She nods her head like she knows exactly what that’s like. And she does. I know she does. We’re kindred spirits in the worst way possible, having experienced loss and heartbreak too young. I wish I could erase that past for her. For us both.
