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“Well, I hope I am, Mr. Lafayette, because it certainly interests me and the East Brookstown neighborhood.” I smiled as bright as I could, channeling all sorts of confidence and competence.
He nodded, a warmth entering his black eyes. “I’m from that neighborhood,” he said, and I saw stars. This was going to work. It was; I could see it right there in front of me. My future, the future I’d come here for, was happening.
Carter
I left the party through the main entrance and watched Jim Blackwell storm off to his car. I knew there was a patio around here somewhere for smokers, and chances were my mother was there.
I had no idea where Zoe went.
The pool of light on the far side of the building seemed likely and I approached, stopping when I heard Zoe’s voice.
Pixel puzzle.
She was right, more right than she knew. Sometimes I got so lost in my lies, my life, the constant control, that I didn’t know who I was anymore.
Except when I was with Zoe. I touched her velvet skin and my body, my life, my world popped into sharp relief. I knew who I was. The things I wanted in my life seemed as if they were in the palm of my hands. She had that power. That magic.
But we kept pushing each other away.
If you want her, I told myself, you need to fight for her.
But first I needed to find out what my mother was doing here.
I waited in the shadows of the parking lot until Zoe left, then watched my mother smoking alone at a wrought iron table and thought about Zoe. About how cold I felt and how nice it would be to warm myself by the fire that glowed in her.
“I know you’re there,” Vanessa said, staring down at the pack of smokes on the table.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, stepping to the edge of the light but no farther.
“I had to get a job,” she said, shrugging as if it meant nothing. “I know the pit boss at The Rouge.” Her eyes, dry and resigned, met mine. “Do you want me to leave?”
She looked old. Older than I’d ever seen her. And trapped.
“What happened to all that money Margot’s been giving you?” I asked.
“I owe people money.” She ran her palms over her perfect hair and I watched with hate in my heart. But then, as if she just couldn’t keep going, her shoulders slumped and she rested her head in her hands.
I stood there, unsure of what to do. When she stopped playing her part, I didn’t know mine.
God, there was something so alone in her. It was like all the lies and angles, the games and secrets that animated her, were turned off and she just sat there. Empty.
“Are you in danger?” I asked.
“This isn’t the movies,” she said. “I’m not going to get whacked.” She wiped her face, her eyes, and then put her hands in her lap as if the moment were gone, the mask back on.
“So this was what…coincidence?” I asked.
“I honestly didn’t know you’d be here. I wouldn’t have come if I had. I needed a job, and the only damn legal skill I have is dealing cards.”
I believed her. I believed her because she looked like a woman with her back against the wall.
“It’s okay. Stay,” I said. “Unless you’re cheating.”
Her laugh was a dry empty rustle. “The pit boss would kill me.”
She crushed her smoke into the ashtray.
“That reporter was giving Zoe a hard time out here,” Vanessa said, and my body went tight.
“He’s a nuisance.”
“Is it possible she’s spying on you for him?”
“No!” The thought actually made me laugh. Zoe? A spy? It was like asking a kitten to be a tiger.
“Don’t be so sure,” she said, watching me through ancient eyes. “She’s already sold you out for a thousand dollars.”
“She didn’t know me,” I said, and then realized that the more she knew me, and the more I treated her the way I had been, the more likely she’d sell me out for a nickel.
“Well, he’s gunning for you. You got a plan?”
“It will be easier if you stay out of trouble.”
Vanessa laughed. “Me? I’m just a woman making a paycheck, Carter. Nothing wrong with that.”
I felt myself smile. “Somewhere pigs are flying,” I said, trying to make a joke, which was so strange. Joking with my mother—pigs really were flying.
“Well,” Vanessa finally said. “You better go catch up with Zoe, before she decides you’re not worth the trouble.”
“I think she already has,” I said, a cool wind slipping up my back.
Vanessa stood, the wrought iron chair scraping against the bricks. “Not yet,” she said. “You still have a chance, trust me. That girl can’t hide her emotions for shit.”
I knew. It was why I liked her, why every hidden emotion I had reached out for the total honesty in her.
