Page 80 of Plum

“She’s smart as hell.”

“She is. She won’t ‘waste’ money on books, but Heavy still buys her these fancy coffee table books when he goes to the book store. The most random subjects. She reads them. Cover-to-cover. Who the fuck reads coffee table books?”

“No one.”

“Jo-Beth Connolly. Lot lizard.” Harper snickers, and a mix of fury and disgust rises again to burn my throat. “You know, when Heavy found out about the tricking—she got busted a few times—he sent her to work at The White Van. You know what she was doing with the money?”

I can guess.

Harper continues, “She handed it all over to Deb, our bookkeeper, to put in a savings account. Cum-crusted twenties from truckers. Tens. Fives. She handed ‘em over in an envelope, all the bills facing the same way. Deb told me about it. Cracked her up.”

“Jesus, Harper. Fuck. I feel bad enough.” I drive my hands into my hair.

“She bought herself a house with that money. The other club pussy is in the bathroom putting powder up their noses, and there’s Jo-Beth, offering to wash brothers’ clothes and then hassling them to tip her once she’s done.” Harper laughs.

We’re both silent a moment. Harper seems to have lost her point, and I’m trying to breathe through the vice squeezing my chest.

“Why are you telling me this?”

She turns to me, her cold eyes glinting in the lamplight. “Because take a woman like that. Take her away from her shitty life when she’s nine or ten. Send her to the best schools. Introduce her to the right people. Give her a company to run. You know what she becomes?”

I wait. There’s silence except for the whoosh of cars along the riverfront.

“You.”

The word slams into me with the force of a punch. It’s true. Something in my soul recognized her the moment I first saw her. We are made from the same stuff.

Harper leans back, resting her elbows on a stair. “The only thing I can’t figure out is how you did it.”

“Did what?”

“Dragged yourself halfway out of the cesspool of greed and evil that is the Wade family. No offense,” she calls to Eric over my shoulder, but he’s distracted by his phone.

I bark a laugh. Until recently, I would have protested. Now, the question makes me think. I welcome it.

“I don’t know.” I sit up. Think back. Just let the words come. “I guess a long time ago, I took a dive. I compromised. I did whatever I was asked, and I got what I wanted.”

Harper’s gaze is trained on me, inscrutable and unwavering. “Don’t beat yourself up about it too much. We all do it.”

“Yeah. Maybe. Then somewhere along the line, I’d compromised so much, I’d gotten so used to doing what I was asked, I didn’t even know what I wanted anymore.”

“And then you met Jo-Beth.” You’d expect Harper to sound jaded or caustic, but there’s a strange wistfulness to her voice, utterly out of character.

I nod. “Then I met Jo-Beth. She’s compromised more than I ever have, but she never lost herself. She’s fucking gorgeous, and strong, and proud. And I wanted her. I haven’t wanted anything in years, but I want that woman.”

“It feels good.” Harper’s lips curve, and there’s sympathy in the softening.

“It does.” I draw in a deep breath of brisk winter air. “What the fuck do I do?”

Harper leans her head against the metal rail and shrugs. “I don’t know. Big grovel. She likes birds. Something with that. You probably want to get your head all the way out of your ass first.”

“Marry her,” Eric pipes up, and I startle, the moment broken. I’d almost forgotten he was there. “I call best man.”

“That would be awkward as fuck.” I shouldn’t have to point that out.

“I bet her friends are freaks in the sheets.” He smirks.

“I will beat your ass.”

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