Undeniable Read online

  Joel looked at me with scared eyes. “Remember how you said you’d always be there for me?”

  “Of course.”

  “Well I need your help now.” His lips twisted upwards in a grim, humorless smile, and I nodded rapidly.

  “Anything. What’s wrong?” I pulled a chair up and sat down, my brows drawing together. I was thankful that Joel and I were talking like a normal brother and sister again, but he looked worse than usual.

  “I need twenty thousand dollars.”

  I choked back a laugh. “And you think you’ll find it here?” I saw the look on his face and my laughter died away. “Oh no. You’re serious.”

  “Like a heart attack,” he said bitterly, and I leaned back against my chair.

  “Joel. What’s going on?”

  He looked at me for a few seconds and then he shook his head. “I need the money,” he said, his voice emotionless, his eyes staring off into space.

  “I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on.”

  “I need it,” he said, looking at me this time. “I really do. And I don’t have it, otherwise I wouldn’t be bugging you for it.”

  “Can you get a loan from somewhere?”

  He snorted. “Sure. All the banks just love to lend money out to losers with maxed out credit cards and minimum-wage jobs.”

  “Then why should I?”

  “It’s not a loan, sis.” He stared at me with dark, stony eyes. “It’s a gift.”

  Well, at least he was being honest about that.

  “I don’t have that much money,” I said. “You know I lost my accounting job.”

  “What about your savings?”

  My savings had dwindled away, but I didn’t need to worry Joel with all that. “What’s this about?”

  Joel shook his head and stared at the floor. When he refused to say anything, I finally stood up, my annoyance getting the better of me.

  “I’m sorry. Maybe you’ll find someone else to give you the money.”

  “There’s no-one else.” He looked up at me, his eyes somber and cheerless. “I told you that already.”

  I shrugged. “Well, I’d like twenty thousand dollars, too. Call me if you find someone handing it out.”

  I took a step towards the door.

  Joel said, “It’s serious. If I don’t have the money…”

  His voice trailed off and I said, “What? If you don’t have the money…?”

  “He says he’ll break my leg.”

  I stared at him, taking in as though for the first time, Joel’s sunken cheeks and deadened eyes.

  “Are you…” I stared in disbelief. “What did you get mixed up in?”

  It was either gambling or drugs, and when Joel refused to meet my eyes, I said, “Maybe I can find someone to help you.”

  “Nobody can help me.”

  “What is it?” I stared at his cheeks, which had collapsed against his jaw, making him look perpetually starved. How had I not seen it before? “You’re doing drugs, aren’t you?”

  He nodded and dropped his head into his hands, and I checked the stream of anger that threatened to pour out. Anger at him for being so stupid, anger at myself for not noticing it before.

  “Are you still…” It was hard to form the words, let alone believe that this was really happening. “Are you still taking them?”

  “No, of course not.” He looked up at me in surprise. “You think that after all this? I’m not stupid. I quit a while back, but I still owe the guy money.”

  “Why didn’t you say something? Before things got so bad?”

  I was my fault. I hadn’t pushed him to share his life with me, and now, it was too late. I shouldn’t have listened to him when he told me to stop bothering him. I should’ve bugged him to let me into his life, and I should’ve been there for him.

  “I didn’t want to worry you,” he said.

  I went over and sat next to him. I wrapped my arm around his shoulder, wishing I could make everything better. When we were kids, I’d been the one to teach him how to shove bullies away, I’d been the one who’d taught him to bake a birthday cake that impressed the girl next door. But now, we were older.

  “I’m sorry, Joel,” I said. “You know I want to help out.”

  He looked up at me and smiled, the first glimmer of hope I’d seen flickering in his face. “You’ll figure something out, won’t you? You know it’s just me and you, now.”

  Mom would’ve known what to do. She’d raised two kids by herself, and she’d always known what to do. I wished she were here now, to tell me how to handle this.

  I took a deep breath. “I know. But you’ve – if you’re messed up in something, you need to get out of it.”

  He nodded. “I will. I have. I’ve been clean for months now, I just need to pay off this guy.”

  I felt the ice pick stabbing my heart and I gulped. “Please don’t…”

  We looked at each other and he gave me a brief, awkward hug.

  “I’ll see you later,” he said, standing up and giving me a broad smile that I knew was meant to calm me. “I guess you’re going to some fancy dinner, huh? Have fun, sis. Let me know if you think of anything.”

  And then he was gone, the door closing quietly behind him. I sat down on the soft, flabby sofa and clutched a pillow to my chest. How had I not seen this before? How had Joel gotten involved in all this? I’d broken my promise to take care of him.

  I’d tried, and I’d been busy with my own problems, but that didn’t excuse me for failing.

  I’d figure something out.

  Three

  The restaurant was packed, and even the bar running along one wall was busy. Light filtered down from the thin, red pendant lamps that hung from the ceiling, and the long mirror along the wall behind the bar reflected back bottles of drinks and patrons looking for somewhere to sit.

  “Where are you?” I texted Jessie, and she replied immediately.

  “On our way. Five minutes.”

  I sighed and was going to wait outside when someone slid off a bar stool. I hopped on immediately; my philosophy in life was that there was no point wasting anything, even a highly-coveted seat at a busy bar. When the bartender came my way, I said, “Orange juice, please.”

  I ignored his slightly raised eyebrow and was about to pull out my phone, when a voice next to me said, “Hello, there. It’s you.”

  Worst. Pick-up line. Ever. I rolled my eyes and looked up – straight into Gorgeous’s deep aquamarine eyes.

  My eyeballs were probably bulging out of their sockets, and I thought to myself, “Don’t do anything stupid. Don’t do anything stupid. Don’t do anything stupid.” I could barely think of anything to say at all, so I contented myself with staring at him like I’d lost my voice. Which I had.

  “It’s me,” he said, smiling as though I hadn’t recognized him. “We met at the diner? You found my wallet?”

  “Oh, right.” I choked the words out and smiled and nodded, as though my silence were perfectly normal because I hadn’t recognized him. “How are you?”

  I mentally slapped my forehead. How could I not think of something witty and sexy to say to this stranger?

  “Good,” he said, extending one hand. “I’m Zac.”

  “Allie.”

  I smiled and shook his hand, and when the bartender appeared with my drink, Zac said, “I’ll get that.” He handed over notes before I could protest, and said, “Let me guess. Recovering alcoholic. After years of slamming back the whiskeys, you’ve decided to reform yourself.” He peered at me intently. “Yep. You’ve got the jaded look and puffy cheeks to prove you were a binge-drinker.”

  I laughed and shook my head. “I do not have puffy cheeks. And I was born with the jaded look.”

  We shared a quick glance and his eyes grew serious for a split second. Anybody else would’ve thought they were just imagining it. But I knew what I was seeing.

  It was tempting to ask him something personal, something about his life. The se
rious look disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, and I glanced at his drink, which was dark and adult-looking.

  Zac followed my glance, and gave me a sexy smile. “I, unfortunately, enjoy the darker side of life.” He frowned slightly and added, “You’re not under-age, are you?”

  “No, of course not.” I felt mortified that he thought I was too young. “I’m turning twenty-two in a few months.”

  “Oh, good.”

  He didn’t explain his comment, and I said, “What’re you doing here?”

  Once again, I could face-palm myself for the stupid question. Of course he was here for the same reason I was – to have a drink, to meet some friends, and maybe even pick up someone for the night. But he didn’t seem to think I was being stupid, and said something about meeting a friend for dinner.

  “What about you?” he said. “Waiting for friends?”

  I nodded. Jessie was great, but she was perpetually late.

  “I didn’t get a chance to thank you, that day,” he said, lowering his voice. “I would’ve walked straight into my meeting without that folder.”

  “It’s nothing.” I shrugged, and gave him a side-long glance. “I hope your meeting went well.”

  “It was ok.”

  I felt a tap on my shoulder, and Zac and I turned around. Jessie had chosen now, of all times, to show up.

  “Allie!” she said. “Sorry we’re late! Ben was held up at work. And this Michael. Michael, Allie.”

  “Hi.” I smiled awkwardly, feeling my face grow hot.

  Zac was watching me from the corner of his eye, and now he’d know that I was on a blind date. How much of a loser did that make me? It was even worse, because Michael had a face full of acne, slicked-back hair, and a leer in his dark eyes. He looked like a pimp from a bad movie, minus the outrageous bling and terrible clothing choices.

  “It was nice meeting you,” I said to Zac, grabbing my drink, and wishing that he’d use this opportunity to ask for my phone number.

  “You too.” He glanced behind me at my friends. “Have fun.”

  “Who was that?” Jessie asked, as we headed over to our table. “I’m five minutes late and some dude’s already hitting on you?”

  “Yeah,” said Michael, “That’s my job!”

  We laughed politely and before I could explain, we were sitting down and Michael and Ben were telling us about a crazy guy they saw on their way over here. I looked across the table at Jessie, and she shrugged slightly, as though to say, “Sorry I’m late. And sorry this guy looks so creepy.”

  By the time Michael, Ben and Jessie ordered drinks, Michael already had one hand on my knee. I tried to shimmy away from him on the banquette, but he followed, and the hand moved from my knee to around my shoulders. I tried not to shudder.

  “So,” he said, leaning in a bit too close, “Tell me about yourself.”

  I took a sip of my orange juice, determined to at least sit through dinner. “Well. I went to college in Ohio–”

  “You know where I went to college? Yale. I know that always impresses you ladies, but it’s really not such a big deal.”

  “No, it’s not,” I agreed, and his brows creased together.

  I glanced at Jessie, to see if she was offended by my rudeness, but she and Ben were already engrossed in a deep, lovey-dovey conversation. He was pushing a strand of hair back behind her ear, and she was giggling. Why couldn’t I have something like that? I was almost twenty-two, and never once had a guy looked at me with that kind of adoration.

  Behind me, Michael laughed, and inched closer. “You’re funny, you know that?”

  I smelled the alcohol radiating off his body in waves; he must’ve chugged back more than a few beers before heading here. His other hand reached for my knee, and started to creep its way up my thigh. Michael had pushed me so far toward the end of the banquette that there was nowhere else for me to slide over to. His body was just about pressed against my side, and I grabbed the hand that had been creeping up my thigh and pushed it away, before he could go much further.

  “Come on,” he said, laughing. “Don’t you ever have any fun?”

  I glanced at Jessie and Ben, who were now lip-locked. Ben’s hands cradled her face, and Jessie looked as though she were a vampire, intent on sucking her prey dry. Michael followed my glance, and looked back at me.

  “You’re really hot,” he said. “When Ben wanted me to meet someone, I had no idea she’d be so hot. I thought she’d be like a real loser, you know, or like, some uggo or fatso.”

  He leaned forward to kiss me, and I squelched my scream and jumped up.

  “I’m sorry,” I mumbled.

  Jessie pulled away from Ben and looked at me in surprise.

  “I–” I glanced at Michael again, who was leering at me in disbelief now, and wondered if I could be polite for Jessie’s sake. I couldn’t. “I have to leave,” I told them. “I’m sorry if… I’m sorry.”

  “Oh, come on, now.” Michael stood up and stepped closer to me, wrapping his arm around my waist. “You know you want some fun.”

  “Don’t.” I tried to keep my voice low, and pushed him away, taking a step backwards as I did so.

  I bumped into the table behind me, and then I heard the crash. I turned around, mortified, and stared at the people sitting at table I’d just collided with. I’d managed to shake the table hard enough to push a wine glass onto the floor, and the couple was looking up at me in shock. The wine glass had shattered, and clear liquid was spilling over onto the hardwood floor.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  My face was flaming hot and I took another step back, promptly crashing into the waiter who had chosen to stand right behind me, carrying our drinks tray. His tray flew up. There was the high-pitched noise of glass hitting the floor and shattering, and I looked up at him in time to see a dark red liquid staining the front of his white shirt.

  “I’m so sorry,” I mumbled again, and then I rushed outside.

  The cold air hit me like a bunch of sharp needles, and I rubbed my arms and walked forward, bending my head against the wind. What had I been thinking? I knew what I’d been thinking – that I needed to get away from Michael. I needed to get away from my life. I needed to do something to help Joel.

  Who was I kidding? I was an out-of-work new graduate, and it’s not like I’d get a job anytime soon. I’d be a waitress for the rest of my life, and Joel… I remembered that look in his eyes, the desperate hope. I’d let him down.

  I blinked back tears, annoyed at myself for being such a hopeless loser. I wasn’t sure where I was heading, but I knew there was no escape from my life, no matter how bad it was getting. I needed to man up and go back to the restaurant. I’d have to apologize to the waiter, and maybe pay for the damages. I couldn’t afford to pay for the damages.

  I sniffed and turned around, and promptly bumped into something hard.

  “Hey there.”

  My eyes slowly made their way up, over the broad chest and past the shoulders that filled out a dark grey suit, into deep, aquamarine eyes.

  “You’re shivering,” he said.

  I sniffed and looked down again, hoping he hadn’t noticed the tears threatening to come flooding out. And then I felt something warm being draped over my shoulders.

  “Why don’t you wait here,” Zac was saying. “I’ll head back in and grab your jacket.”

  I clutched at the fabric, realizing slowly that I was snuggling into Zac’s jacket. It was thick and cozy and smelled like him. “You’d do that for me?”

  “Of course.” He smiled gently, his eyes soft and worried. “I’ll be right back.”

  I nodded, and he walked back to the restaurant, reappearing in a few minutes with my jacket and scarf in hand.

  “You didn’t need to go to all that trouble,” I mumbled, feeling ashamed of my clumsiness and general suckiness at life. I couldn’t even get through a dinner without making a fool of myself.

  “Pure self-interest,” Zac said, handing me my jacket
and scarf. “I couldn’t let you wander off in my clothes.”

  I smiled, trying not to give in to the overwhelming sensation of hopelessness. “Thanks.”

  “Don’t mention it.” The concern didn’t leave his eyes, and I knew he’d noticed the tears earlier. “Where are you heading? Let me drop you off.”

  He indicated a black town car that had pulled up beside us, and I shook my head. “You seem nice, but I’ve been warned not to trust strangers in New York.”

  “Not even strangers who grab your jacket from creepy, pimply-faced losers?” I laughed and shook my head, and Zac went on, “Not even strangers whose stuff you find lying in diner booths?”

  I smiled at him and shook my head again. He put one hand against his chest and feigned massive disappointment. “Ah, the betrayal. Well, ok then. Let me at least call you a cab.”

  “No, I–”

  Our eyes met, and I saw the recognition glimmer in his face. He knew I couldn’t afford a cab.

  “I can’t let you take the subway like this,” he said seriously. “Besides, my car’s holding up traffic.” He walked up and held the door open. “Come on.”

  There was a honk from the car behind us, and I sighed. He was right, I was holding up traffic. The inside of his car looked plush. Comfortable, private and so much nicer than the smelly subway.

  If I’d met Zac in the bar, if Jessie hadn’t shown up and he’d offered to drop me home, would I really have said no?

  “Ok,” I said, stepping inside and pulling out my phone, “But I’m calling Jessie to let her know where I am. What’s your numberplate?”

  Zac laughed and told me, and I texted it over to Jessie.

  “Where to?” he asked, and I told him.

  “You really don’t trust anyone, do you?”

  I shook my head. “I listen to the warnings.”

  “Right,” he said, “Except when it comes to who you have dinner with.”

  I smiled, relieved to have gotten away. “That guy was such a creep.”

  “He was,” Zac said, watching me thoughtfully. “But surely that’s not the only reason you rushed out like that?”