Page 55 of Best Laid Plans

It took me a moment to realize that my ex, in this case, was Nova.

"Fuck no." I drank some bourbon. "Nova doesn't need that."

"Do you know you're still in love with her?" Diego asked.

I drank some more, and decided to ignore his question. No good would come out of answering it.

"Do you know she's still in love with you?" he persisted.

I didn't want to think about that. It was too tempting. If I believed she loved me, I'd take advantage of her. I'd have her under me before she could finish saying the three little words.

"Women like her don't love," I muttered.

He looked at me with disappointment. "The woman I have met, the one you're in love with, is not corrupt."

"She was dirt poor, Diego."

And yet, she cooked for you?

She hardly had any money, and yet she'd share her food with me. She literally gave me part of her hard-earned money. What did I give her? I tried to think about it and realized that I never bought her presents or flowers or…anything. She bought me books or found them in the used bookstore, always something meaningful, always thoughtful. I suggested that I'd help her with rent or finding a better place, but that was about it.

She never asked me for anything. Not once. I thought about Bailey and her demands.

"I want this ring." She gave me a printed page from the Van Cleef & Arpels website. It had a picture and description of a four-and-a-half-carat diamond ring.

"Bailey, this is a half-million-dollar ring," I protested. Sure, I could buy it and then some, but it seemed like such a waste. "Let's get something cheaper, and what do you say we use the rest to support a charity."

"Charity? Are you out of your mind?"

"Maybe we can pay down your dad's debt instead?" I suggested.

"Not with my engagement ring," she said with tears in her eyes. "He took so much from me, he can't take this away as well."

I bought her the damned ring, the one I told her she could keep. She would. She'd sell it and not help her mother pay the family debt. Bailey would keep it all for herself. She wouldn't share, not like Nova, who literally shared food that she had very little of with me.

"I'm so sorry, Anson, I only made one baguette," she apologized when I asked if there was more bread to go with the amazing Louisiana BBQ shrimp she'd made for dinner.

"Isn't it easier to make a few instead of one?" I asked. "It probably takes the same amount of time."

She pursed her lips. "I ran out of flour."

I frowned. Why didn't she just get more, I wondered.

"And I don't get paid until the end of the week, so I couldn't just go and buy some more. Next week, I promise I'll make more."

"Damn it, Nova, why didn't you say something. Did I just eat all your food?"

"No," she laughed. "I have plenty of frozen meals. I'm just sorry I don't have more bread."

I had offered to buy her groceries, but she had turned me down. It wasn't pride, she told me. It was survival.

"I can't get used to someone taking care of things for me, Anson. I can't rely on someone, because when that person leaves, it'll be harder for me to get back on my feet."

A woman like that wouldn't steal. No, she wouldn't. I needed to talk to Pete again and find out what the hell happened that day.

"I like her, Anson. I trust her. She has a backbone," Diego spoke softly.

"She has that," I agreed.

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