Page 4 of Finding Our Tomorrow
“Willow.” When I say her name, her eyes flutter back open. “I’m sorry…”
“You have nothing to apologize for.” She plasters on a fake smile. “You’re my boss and it would’ve been a mistake.”
I nod in agreement, but my insides are tightening in disagreement. “Why don’t I walk you home?”
She shakes her head. “That’s okay. I’m a big girl.” She winks, but it’s not carefree like before.
We exit the stall, and a couple of women gape at us, thinking we just hooked up in there.
Instead of going back up to the VIP area, Willow heads to the exit, and I follow.
“Please let me walk you home,” I insist. I’m not sure where she lives, but it’s late, and nowhere in New York is really safe at this time.
“Jax, really. I’m fine.” Her voice is rough in frustration.
As much as it kills me to let her walk away, I don’t want to piss her off, so I tell her okay and that I’ll see her tomorrow at work.
And then I watch her walk down the street, wait a minute so she doesn’t know I’m following her, and then head in the same direction. She walks fast as hell, especially for a woman who’s been drinking and is walking in tall as hell heels, but I easily keep up. Making sure to remain far enough back, so she won’t see me, I follow her several blocks. When she stops at a quickie mart, I hide in the shadows. A few minutes later, she comes out with a large duffel bag over her shoulder and continues on her way.
She walks a few more blocks and then she stops in front of an abandoned building. Pulling a blanket out of the duffel bag, she shakes it out, spreads it out in front of her, and then drops down onto it. She fluffs the bag to use it as a pillow, then lays her head on it.
What the fuck is going on? I wait for her to jump up and tell me she knows I’ve been following her. Tell me she’s joking and laugh in my face. But she doesn’t. Her eyes close and her breathing evens out. As I watch her sleep, it hits me that Willow is homeless.
When I met her, she was drawing pictures in Central Park along the bridge. She was dressed in a ripped T-shirt and jean shorts, and I could see a couple of tattoos peeking out. She was laughing with a couple who were checking out her artwork, and I was immediately drawn to her. I could tell right away she was talented and knew she would make a great addition to the shop. When I asked if she could tattoo, she told me she would love to learn, so I taught her. She caught on quickly and has been working at Forbidden Ink ever since. So, I know she makes enough money to survive. To live in an apartment.
She mentioned a while back that she and her boyfriend broke up, but I didn’t think much of it. Is it possible he kicked her out? But then why wouldn’t she just get another place? It doesn’t make any sense.
Well, whatever the story is, there’s no way I’m going to let her sleep out here all night. Not wanting to startle her, I call out her name. She squirms but doesn’t wake up, obviously already in a deep sleep.
“Willow, wake up,” I say louder. This time her eyes open. It takes her a second, but once she realizes she isn’t dreaming, her body pops up and she looks around.
“Let’s go,” I tell her before she can even think of an excuse or a lie to feed me.
She considers arguing, I can see it in her eyes, but she must realize I’m not playing around, because she lets out a deep sigh, shoves her blanket into her duffle bag, and then stands.
CHAPTER FOUR
WILLOW
While we walkto the subway station, Jax doesn’t say a word, and I greatly appreciate it. I’ve already made enough of an ass of myself for one night. When we get on the subway, he continues with his silent treatment, but the longer he doesn’t talk, the more I just want to get the conversation over with. Like ripping the band-aid off. Why prolong it? We get off in Cobble Hill and walk a couple blocks through a small suburbia neighborhood lined with cute brick townhouses.
When we arrive at his place, he unlocks the door and holds it open for me to walk through first. It’s fall in New York, so the temperatures tend to fluctuate. This week has been on the cooler side, but when I step into Jax’s house, it’s nice and warm. I take a look around and find the place to be neat and tidy. The furniture is nice, nothing fancy, but it’s all good quality.
“The bedrooms and bathrooms are upstairs,” he says, walking toward the stairs. I follow him up and he stops at the first door. “This is the guest bedroom and it has its own bathroom. It’s stocked with toiletries and towels are under the sink.”
He steps back to walk away, but I stop him. “Don’t you want to talk about it?” After thinking about it, I’m going with ripping the band-aid off.
“About what? The fact that I almost fucked my employee in the bathroom of a club? My employee who is over ten years younger than me.” His eyes shoot to the ceiling like he’s praying to God to help him before he looks back down at me. “Or the fact that you’ve been living on the streets for God knows how long and haven’t said a word to any of us?”
“All of the above.” I shrug, unsure what to say.
“I’m tired, still half-buzzed, and it’s late…” He glances at his cell phone. “Or I guess early since it’s almost four in the morning. We have to be at the shop in a few hours, so how about we shower, get some sleep, and we can talk in the morning.”
“Okay.” I give him a half-smile, hoping to knock his evident frustration down a few notches. “I’ll see you in the morning—er, in a few hours.”
Closing the door behind me, I strip out of my clothes and head straight for the shower. It’s been a few months since I’ve had a shower that’s not in a women’s shelter, and I find myself relaxing under the hot spray until the water goes cold. Hopefully Jax already finished his shower. I grab a fluffy towel and dry off, then grab my pajamas to change into.
Since I have a couple hours before we leave, I wonder if Jax would mind if I do a load of laundry. I can do it at the laundry mat, but they’re freaking gross. Tiptoeing over to the room I saw him go into, I knock lightly in case he’s already asleep. If he is, I’ll just find the washer and dryer and do a load before he wakes up. I doubt he’ll even notice.
