Page 43 of Until August
He looked around to see if anyone was within earshot, then lowered his voice. “I always bought my own fish and produce. Every morning I’d get to the market early, buy what I needed for the day and load it in my van. I knew most of the guys working there, and they knew who I was. And one day, this guy came up to me and said, ‘Hey, word on the street is that you could use some extra cash. I’ve got something you might be interested in.’ I grew up on the streets. I knew what he was talking about. I told him to get the fuck away from me. That I wasn’t interested.”
Despite myself, I was curious and couldn’t help asking, “What changed your mind?”
“I have a son.”
That jarred me.
My eyes widened, but I remained quiet and let him continue.
“When Sasha found out she was pregnant, I’d just opened my restaurant, so the timing wasn’t ideal. But I was happy. I was finally getting everything I’d ever dreamed of. Then, my son was born with a congenital heart defect.” He paused, letting that sink in for a moment before he continued. “Sasha quit her job a few months into her pregnancy, and after he was born, she stayed home with him. It’s what I wanted for her. For them. Money was tight. I’d taken out so many loans to open that fucking restaurant, and we were drowning in bills. But I kept telling myself that if I just worked hard enough, we’d be able to stay afloat.”
I don’t know what I’d expected to hear, but this changed things. It changed everything.
“My health insurance didn’t cover everything, so there were a lot of out-of-pocket expenses. And when he needed a third operation, Sasha and I consulted with the best pediatric cardiologist in the country who specialized in heart defects like Sage’s. She was in Boston, so the plan was for Sasha to stay with Sage, and I would fly back and forth. It wasn’t ideal, but I wanted the best for my son and needed the money to make it happen.”
“So you took that guy up on his offer,” I said, connecting the dots.
He nodded. “I’d pick up the goods, stash them under the fish and produce, and make the drop-off. I was transporting a shitload of drugs, but I thought I’d get out before getting caught. Guess that’s what all criminals tell themselves.” A derisive laugh escaped him.
I tried to sort through my jumbled thoughts and figure out what to say. He’d done the wrong thing, but his reasons for doing it were good.
Noble, if you could call a drug dealer noble.
And wouldn’t anyone do whatever it took to help save the life of someone they loved? I knew without a doubt that I would. Because I’d done it.
And like August, my attempt to save Cruz’s life,at any cost, had backfired in the most horrible way imaginable.
August and I weren’t all that different. Everything we’d done was in the name of love.
I was almost afraid to ask the question, but it was the most important one, so I steeled myself for the answer, praying it was a good one. “How is your son now? Is he okay?”
August nodded. “Yeah. Or so I’ve been told.”
My brows lifted in surprise. “You haven’t seen him?”
He shook his head. “Not yet. I saw him surfing a couple of weeks ago, but that was purely coincidental. Sasha called earlier and said I can see him on Monday for a couple hours.”
“That’s good.”
“Yeah.” He blew out a breath. “It’s been so long. I don’t even know what I’ll say to him.”
“Maybe you could start with the truth.” There was a bite to my tone that I hadn’t intended. But I was still hurt that he hadn’t been honest with me.
“Would you have hired me if you knew the truth?”
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. Although if he had told me the whole story from the beginning, I might have. Now we’d never know. “I think what upsets me most is that you lied to me. A lie by omission is still a lie. You made me feel so stupid and naïve for trusting you when I had no reason to. You were the random guy who stole my first kiss when I was sixteen. And like a fool, I opened the door and let you waltz right in and take over my kitchen. How stupid am I?”
“You’re not stupid, far from it. Working with you has been incredible. I can’t remember the last time I’ve been this happy working in a kitchen.” He leaned his shoulder against the wall, and I did the same, facing him. “It’s what gets me out of bed in the morning.”
“You’re really laying it on thick, aren’t you?” I teased.
He nudged the toe of my shoe with the toe of his boot. Such a cute, boyish gesture. “I mean every word of it. I don’t think I’ve ever had this much fun working in a kitchen.”
I felt compelled to keep asking questions. “Not even your own restaurant?”
He shook his head. “Nope. I was too worried about achieving perfection. I lost sight of why I wanted to open my own restaurant. The joy was gone, you know?” His eyes narrowed, and he stroked his jaw as if trying to figure out where the joy had gone. “I was so fucking fixated on that star. And even when I got it, I wasn’t happy. If anything, I was more dissatisfied.”
I understood the part about the joy being gone, but our reasons differed. “So why would you tell me you’d help me get one?”
