Page 60 of So Close

“Is Lily gorgeous?” she asks.

“It’s stupid how beautiful she is.” I wipe my mouth. “Like she doesn’t seem real when you’re standing in front of her. She’s like an android or something.”

“Does the family like her?”

I laugh and catch a hint of hysteria in the sound. I remember the feel of Lily’s arms around me, the whisper of her voice in my ear. She almost made me cry, and I can’t figure out why. I hate her for it, though.

“She’s won Ramin over,” I reply while chewing. “He won’t stop talking about using her as a model for the new makeup line. I don’t really know how Darius feels. He doesn’t trust her, but then he doesn’t trust most people. Rosana thinks Lily is the heroine of a tragic love story. I’m pretty sure Aliyah just wants her to die again. She can’t stand her boys having women in their lives they like better than her.”

“Your mother-in-law sounds like a nightmare.”

“She’s the antichrist. Goddamn hell on earth.”

“How do you feel about Lily?”

I stare out of Suzanne’s plantation shutter-covered windows. The buildings across the street are shorter, so I can look right over them at the clear blue sky. Somewhere out there, Lily has spentdayswith Kane all to herself. Knowing Kane, I imagine she’s as swollen and tender as I am right now. I had trouble walking for days after he fucked me.

The mental box containing the need to scream unhinges at the thought of sex. My throat hurts from strangled tears as I swallow the croissant that now tastes like cardboard and sawdust. “She’s all right. I don’t really know her. She drives Aliyah crazy, so there’s that.”

“Where were you last night,” Suzanne queries, “between when Darius last saw you and when you showed up here?”

“I just needed to get out of the house. And I needed a drink. I went to a bar, then I hooked up with a girls’ trip group of tourists and went back with them to their hotel to smoke weed.” The lies roll easily off my tongue, and the minute they hit the air, they become the truth. I’ve rewritten the night’s events, the unknown deleted forever from my narrative. “I guess that, plus the booze, plus the pain meds did a number on me.”

“You drink too much, Amy,” she says softly, with judgment in her gaze. “I say that as your friend.”

“Well, as my friend, mind your own business. I had fun. The girls were great. From Minnesota, I think they said. Or Michigan? Somewhere like that.” I dig my phone out of my purse. There are dozens of missed calls and unread texts from Darius.

The doorbell rings. I wait until Suzanne walks away before I gain my feet and run to the bathroom again. I splash water on my face, then pinch my cheeks to give them some color. Suzanne thoughtfully keeps travel-size hygiene products in a wicker bowl for her guests, including mouthwash, which I struggle to open and rinse with before Darius smells alcohol on my breath.

When I step out of the bathroom, Darius is waiting in the short hallway for me, taking up too much space with his tall, fit physique. I’m instantly claustrophobic. My breath shortens and grows labored.

“Do you know how fucking worried I’ve been?” he barks, grabbing me by the upper arms and yanking me closer. He’s livid but keeps his voice low enough so Suzanne won’t overhear. “What the hell are you upset about now? Whatever it is, fucking off and ignoring my calls is bullshit.”

“I’m sorry.” I regret the apology the moment I voice it. Why can’t I do what I want? But then I see that look in his eyes, the grim desire, and my stomach roils. Anytime Darius feels like I’m not where he wants me, he fucks me into compliance with his talented dick. Considering the state of my vagina, I think I’d literally lose my mind if he took that tack with me now. “It’s not you. You’re working all the time, and I just felt like I needed to talk to another adult, you know? I’m on my period. My fucking mouth hurts. Low iron and pain pills … I fell asleep on Suzanne’s couch. That’s all.”

He stares at me with narrowed, suspicious eyes. The scream I’m holding back in that shakily closed box inside me begins to spill out again. My eyes water from the effort of not howling directly into his handsome, angry face, and I use my tears to my advantage.

“Baby.” He sighs and pulls me into a hug.

His smell is so welcome and comforting that I can’t hold back the flood of tears any longer. They escape in rivulets, then emotion bursts from my chest in wracking sobs.

His embrace tightens. “Why don’t you talk to me about stuff like this? You know I’m working on our future, but I can always make time for you.”

I cry into his hard, muscular chest until I’m so exhausted I can barely keep my eyes open.

We say goodbye to Suzanne and Oliver. When I hug Suzanne, it’s as tight as Lily’s hug, and I can tell she’s surprised. She’s been a good friend to me, even though I despise her.

Darius and I leave, heading down the hallway to the elevator. I overlook the sand in my mules until the grains start chafing my feet raw.

33

ALIYAH

The second floorof a five-story brick building in Tribeca houses the Rampart Protection & Investigative Services office. I spot a boutique hotel, a café, a hair salon and a branding agency farther along the street. I suspect the latter is responsible for the proliferation of too-similar business logos rendered in an earthy color palette with flourishes of leaves and flowers for scant distinction. The neighborhood appears to be collectively targeting consumers who place a premium on eco-friendliness and natural ingredients. I don’t grasp how private investigation fits in, but then I don’t really care.

The pedestrians are dressed and groomed according to the latest trends. A blend of musical styles wafts in the air, and the overall feel is of youth, vitality and creativity. The staidness of established New York is figuratively far from this community of startups.

I enter through the heavy double iron doors painted orange-red and find myself in a tiny vestibule, with an unmarked door on the left and a staircase and elevator on the right. I unwrap the scarf draped around my hair and shove it into my clutch. A fierce-looking black man with wide shoulders and a cool glance half sits on a stool backed into the corner of the elevator car with a baseball bat near at hand. He takes stock of me with zero expression and waits.

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