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She had that effect on people.
Back up in her room, she took a bath, and ensconced in the huge free-standing tub, staring out at the view of the Brooklyn Bridge, covered up to her neck in bubbles, she thought ofhim.
In her quiet moments, it was all she did.
Miss him.
Wish she’d done it all differently, then berate herself for wishing.
If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.Her mother would tell her that.
But there was a space inside her that only Toro could fill, andwhyhadn’t she acknowledged it—accepted it—before now? Why did she leave him when he wanted only to love her?
It was difficult to accept pretty words from men, but Toro had backed it up, hadn’t he?
And still she’d run from him.
Coward was too tame for what she was.
Maybe she’d lost him, maybe he wouldn’t want to deal with the baggage she clung to so fiercely. Maybe he was better off with someone not as selfish as her, as jaded.
The thought brought bitterness to the back of her throat and had her fisting her hands because Toro with anyone else was… Angry heat flashed across her chest as she glowered at the view through the large window in front of her.
She’d made her choice. Time to live with the consequences.
She fell asleep in the tub and was startled awake by the buzzing of her phone. She leaned over to peer at the Caller ID, then snatched up the device, almost letting it slip through her wet fingers.
“Israel.”
“I hear you’re in Brooklyn.” His tone was mild, with no inflection.
She blew out a breath and nodded. “I am. There was business that needed to be tended to.”
“Reggie’s parents?”
So it had been his people watching her? “Something like that.”
“In twenty minutes, a driver will be there to pick you up.”
She sat up straight, the now cold water splashing over the side of the tub. “You’re in Brooklyn?”
“Twenty minutes.” He hung up.
She shot to her feet, wobbling before she got out and grabbed a towel. She didn’t know what he wanted, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t contain herself as she quickly got dressed, snatching clothes from where she’d hung them in the closet. Her hands trembled when she tried to do her makeup.
There was a giddiness, a nervous energy, that thrummed through her as she checked herself out in the floor-length mirror propped against the wall. She’d gone for a white, close-fitting jumpsuit reaching just above her ankles, with a not-too-revealing V neck and short ruffled sleeves.
And also pockets.
Her hands shook too badly for makeup, so she settled for the bare minimum—eyeliner and lip gloss. She rubbed her bald head, thankful she’d visited a barber shop earlier that day.
The only person to make her feel the way she did as she grabbed her red handbag and stepped into her matching heels was Toro. Filled with adrenaline, heart thumping, butterflies in her belly. Israel and Toro both made her feel that way, but for different reasons. And she shouldn’t think about Toro. Israel needed and deserved all her attention, and she needed to be a mother to him.
Even if that wasn’t what he wanted from her. If he was having her brought to him just to tell her fuck off to her face, she remained his mother. It had taken a long time for her to accept that.
She remained his mother.
When she got downstairs, an SUV was waiting, flashing headlights grabbing her attention. The driver got out when she approached; he was a humongous motherfucker, strapped too, expression serious. He opened the back driver’s side for her, greeting her with only a nod of acknowledgment.
