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I Found You
I Found You
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I Found You

“You wouldn’t be a failure, you’d be a trier. And you’ve made two friends. There’s me, too.”

“There’s not much reward in trying though is there? It’s success and achievement that makes you feel good.”

“You don’t feel good?”

Her green gaze met mine, questions and concern there.

“I don’t feel great, but I’m not so down I’d jump off a bridge. I’ll work it out. What about you?

Her lips twisted to a smirk. “Clever, but you won’t get my story out of me that easy. I don’t want to talk…”

I laughed. She did too. Which was crazy seeing as just over twenty-four hours ago, she had wanted to jump off a bridge, and the thing that had led her up there was what she wasn’t talking about. I had a feeling one day she’d tell me what took her to Manhattan Bridge. But it wasn’t going to be today, she wasn’t ready yet.

She put the last cup in a cupboard. “I’m going to go to bed. If that’s okay?”

“Yeah.” I straightened up.

“Are we sharing the bed again tonight?” she asked.

Fuck, something lurched low in my stomach, but I swallowed back the jolt of awareness, and hid it with a smile. “Yeah. If you’re okay with it?”

“It’s okay with me, if it’s okay with you?”

“It’s fine. We’re both adults.”

“Except sometimes, don’t you feel just like a kid trying to be an adult?”

I held her gaze and I knew for the first time, she’d opened up to me and said something of the truth, of what was going on in her head. But I knew what she meant. “Yeah, I often feel entirely out of my depth, but you just have to take a breath, keep calm, and carry on.”

She smiled, weakly this time, but then it dropped away. “Or start again. I’ve gotta start again.”

“Well, you can sleep before you do.”

Chapter Three

I’d slept well. I felt good, much better. Jason had gone to work before I woke, but he’d left me his spare key on the counter, so I could go out, and a note giving me the building access code and saying he might have to work late so don’t wait to eat.

He was probably gonna try to work overtime to pay for the stuff he’d bought me.

I needed a job. I wasn’t gonna let him keep me. He deserved better than that. He wasn’t Declan.

I bathed using his shampoo and soap. I liked smelling like him. Then I dressed. When I put on my satin underwear, I remembered how I’d waved it at Jason in the store and his half-smile. I put on the black skirt, some stockings and a white blouse, then the scarf and coat, and I felt cared for, like no one had ever cared for me.

Lindy really didn’t know how good she had it, and she was pushing him away. That woman needed a talking to, and if I got her on the cell I’d tell her.

I hurried out the door. It was already eleven, the perfect time to start knocking on restaurant doors. I could serve okay. Someone would take me on. I hit the streets. There were a few restaurants I tried around the DUMBO area but none were hiring, so I headed into Brooklyn, I didn’t want to go to Manhattan. If I worked back over the bridge I might bump in to Declan, I didn’t want to do that.

I got a job in a restaurant, in Henry Street. The mainstay of their menu was burgers, but I wasn’t a snob; the food looked nice, and it wasn’t too far to walk from Jason’s. I’d be fine there until I’d earned enough for a deposit for a room somewhere. Probably not in DUMBO or Brooklyn, the rents here would be a bit steep for a waitress salary, and I didn’t have parents to help me out like he did. But it was a beginning to my new life.

They wanted me to start work that night. I said okay. I thought I’d better start before I had the chance to change my mind. I walked up to the Brooklyn Bridge Park after the interview, and sat on a bench there, for a moment, looking at the bridge and traffic on the river.

Then I got up and walked down by the water. It reminded me how I’d felt when I’d gone onto Manhattan Bridge. I’d just needed to escape everything, myself, as well as Declan. I hadn’t wanted to keep fighting and trying anymore, or to be who I was any longer.

The water had called to me. Deep and shifting and promising escape.

It promised me escape again, as I gripped the rail. I could jump and just not swim…

But I had a new life now. After just two days. I had somewhere to stay, with someone I liked, someone kind, and now I had a job. Why would I give in to the water’s call now? I’d be foolish to listen. I watched instead as the water shifted and swelled, when boats swept a v in their wake, out across it.

~

When I got home I was surprised Rachel wasn’t in the living room. My heartbeat slipped up a gear. Had she gone without saying goodbye? My TV and Xbox were still there. I looked and saw her coat on the hook by the door. She hadn’t left.

I stripped off my coat and hung it up, then got a beer out the fridge.

I checked in the bedroom. Some of her clothes were thrown on the mattress and a bag still stood in the corner containing the other stuff we’d bought yesterday. I could hear the shower running.

I went back into the living room.

I was drinking my beer when Rachel walked in, wearing a towel tucked closed over her breasts and another as a turban on her head. Her slender arms raised and she began rubbing her hair with the turbaned towel. “Hey, I thought you’d be later…”

“I didn’t have to work late after all.” I’d suggested a subject for an article today. The sub-editor, Hilary, had liked it, the editor, Keith, had even shown some interest. The asshole owner of the magazine, who’d happened to be in today, had thrown my idea out, saying it was stupid. He didn’t even know anything about editing. He was only the money behind the magazine. It was like a game to him. I’d been put straight back in my meaningless place.

“Well, if you were seeking money to pay the bills I ran up on your card last night, don’t panic, I’ve got a job, your investment was worthwhile. I start my first shift in an hour. It’s only a few hours tonight but If they like me they’ll give me more.”

She looked so pleased with herself, her expression touched something in my chest. I smiled. She smiled back. A full, genuine, bright, wide smile.

I lifted my beer a little. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks. It’s a restaurant, on Henry St. Why don’t you eat there tonight? I could serve you.” She gave me the cheeky grin she’d given me last night when she’d been asking my opinion on her satin thongs. She had a wicked streak. I’d learned that yesterday.

The conversation I’d had with Mom on the way home from work repeated in my head. “Darling, Lindy is worried. Are you sure you know enough about this girl, you don’t know where she’s come from or why she was even on that bridge. She could have done anything.”

“Mom, I think she’s a good person. She needed help. I’m giving it to her.”

I couldn’t believe Lindy had panicked Mom so badly. When Dad complained and discouraged me, Mom would convince him to give me a chance to try things out. That’s why they’d helped fund my apartment. She’d wanted me to stay at home, but still she’d encouraged and helped me to come to New York. She was selfless, and she’d brought me up to be like that. Coming to New York was the first thing I’d done just for myself. And look where it was getting me; even Mom was taking sides against me now.

I sipped my beer, then nodded. I never went out. It would be good to get out again. “When does your shift end?”

“Eleven.”

“Then I’ll run first and come in at the end of your service. I can walk you home.”

A soft look added depth to her green eyes for a moment, and her smile turned from bright and sunny to warm. “Thanks, I’d appreciate that.”

“You’re welcome.”

She walked forward, and then her index finger came up and flicked my tie. “You know, your Lindy should appreciate you a little more.”

I laughed. I didn’t know what else to do, because, actually, I was seriously turned on as she swiveled round and walked away. She had nothing on beneath those towels and I knew her body was hot as hell; I could remember every detail of it from when I’d seen her in the bath.

Fuck, I was going to have to keep a tight hold on my libido. Perhaps we should stop sharing a bed. I was physically constantly aware of her near me, even though I slept.

I heard her getting ready, she sung to herself the whole time. I doubted she even knew she was singing. She just sounded happy, almost carefree.

I got a snack to go with my beer, to give me some energy to run on. Then she was in the living room again, wearing her tight black skirt and white shirt.

She looked great, really good. “You look beautiful. You’ll knock ‘em dead.”

It was the first time I’d commented on her looks and instantly a pleased expression crossed her face, implying she was glad I thought her pretty. I wondered for a moment if I’d made an error, if I’d been misleading her by being nice, and she was taking this all the wrong way. But then she smiled that easy happy smile of earlier and winked at me. “Thanks. Looking beautiful is what I do best. I do try.”

She turned away briskly after she said it, grabbed the coat I’d bought her off the peg, and walked out, lifting a hand before she went out the door, shouting, “Bye, see you later.”

God, was that the same Rachel Shears I’d found on a bridge, freezing, shaking, and silent, only two days earlier.

Lindy said I’d changed. But I hadn’t changed as quickly as that.

I finished my beer and snack then went to put my sweats on. I was going to go for a long run. I could get my thoughts in order when I ran. No matter what was going on in my life, everything seemed to slip into perspective when I was running.

~

When I walked into the restaurant, I saw Rachel leaning over the counter talking to some guy. She was smiling broadly, and laughing a lot. The guy was laughing too. Then he handed over a note, and wished her goodnight, before walking away.

Well, she’d told me earlier being beautiful was what she did best, but she hadn’t ever tried that sort of charm on me, not yet anyway.

She caught sight of me and her smile went from a fake, exaggerated expression to what looked like a real pleased-to-see-you smile.

I nodded and she hurried around the counter.

“Where’d you like to sit, sir? Here by the window?”

Ah, so we were playing strangers. She probably didn’t like to admit she had a friend dining here on her first night.

“Did you have a good run?” she whispered as she drew out a chair for me. “You smell nice.”

I looked up at her as I sat. “I had a shower, and yeah, thanks, I had a good run.” My answer sounded husky but I was enjoying the conspiratorial feeling.

“I’ll fetch you a menu,” she said more loudly.

“Thanks, and I’ll have a beer.”

“Okay, coming right up, sir.”

She made me laugh. She was overacting this great waitress stuff, but she’d obviously done waitressing before. That was the third thing I knew about her.

In a few moments she was back with my beer and a menu. “I’ll be back in a moment to take your order. I’ve just got to serve those people first.” She spoke in a more normal voice this time, and gave me a be-patient smile.

I’m sure anyone watching would notice that smile implied she knew me.

The thing was though, she didn’t really know me, and I didn’t know her at all.

I sipped my beer from the bottle and watched her serve. My blood was still humming from my run. I felt energized and good. Running always made me feel good, and I’d run for miles tonight.

She was back over to me in a few minutes.

“Have you decided what you’d like?”

“Yeah, a bacon and cheese burger, with fries and salad.”

“A feast. Still, you can get away with it, there’s no fat on you.”

“Like you…”

“I know, I’m skinny by nature, I can’t put any weight on no matter what I eat. I gave up any hope of curvaceous years ago.”

I laughed wondering how we’d gotten back on to each other’s appearances. I was attracted to her, but she was one of those women you’d have to be blind not to be attracted by.

“It’s on me by the way. I’ve already earned enough tips.”

“You don’t have to––”

“No, I do, you’ve done enough for me the last couple of days.”

“Well, thanks then.”

“Welcome. I’ll go put your order in.”

She disappeared into the kitchen and then came out again a couple of minutes later. I had nothing else to do while I waited, so I found my eyes following her about the room as she took orders and then delivered meals.

She looked completely calm, happy even, I’d never have guessed the state I’d found her in two nights before, if I didn’t know it had happened. It had happened though. She couldn’t be as confident and happy on the inside as she appeared on the outside tonight.

She brought my burger over.

“It looks good, thanks.”

“I hope you enjoy it.”

She disappeared again, while I ate, but popped back after a little while, to ask if it was okay––in that trying-to-please waitress way.

It was good though, really succulent and filling, and with my adrenaline still in hyper-drive from my run, I felt my body absorbing and burning off the calories in a gluttonous rush.

Once I’d eaten I called her over to order another beer. She came across with a big grin on her face. She looked like she was really enjoying herself.

“Did you like it?”

“Yeah, it was great. Can I have another beer?”

“Sure I’ll get you one.”

It was with me in a moment, and she hovered for a little bit as no one else was waiting.

“It’s a good place isn’t it,” she commented.

“Yeah.”

“Have you eaten here before?”

“No, I don’t normally go out in the evening, other than to run.”

“Oh, do you know what you are, Jason Macinlay?”

“No.”

“Old before your time … You need to get some excitement in your life and have a little fun. You know far too much about caring for people, and nothing about enjoying life.”

She was probably right. I smiled.

“I’m going to change that,” she said to me with a sharp nod, like she vowed it to herself, as well as me. Then she whispered, “I’d better get back to work.”

I drank my beer watching her again, wondering what sort of life she’d led before the bridge, and wondering again what had sent her there.

Would she ever trust me enough to tell me? Probably not.

It didn’t really matter though, as long as she could pick up her life again. As soon as she did, she’d move on, and leave me behind. I didn’t have the same fears Lindy and Mom did. I knew Rachel Shears wasn’t fleecing me.

I had to stop thinking like I knew her though. I didn’t know her.

~

Jason was watching me. I liked him watching. It felt comforting having him around, like a security blanket.

The restaurant owner, Joe, had already asked me if that was my boyfriend within five minutes of Jason arriving. I’d said no he was just a friend, but more than half of me wished he was my boyfriend.

Funny really, because I wasn’t even sure I should call him a friend, we weren’t even that, not really. I was merely his damsel in distress and he was my knight in shining armor. He’d saved me from the monsters in my head two nights ago. I smiled as I caught him watching me across the room, and he smiled back lifting his beer to his mouth again, blushing a little.

He did look good. He was the best looking guy I’d seen all day, in fact probably all year, and he was so not my usual type––dark, brooding, malicious and older. I chose men who had an ulterior motive and would treat me like crap, because I had this fucking self-destruct button I couldn’t switch off.

What would it be like to go with a nice, good-looking guy like him. A young good-looking guy.

God, I really did think we could have fun together. I could make him laugh and smile more often, and forget work, and Lindy, and… Lindy. Of course she was the sticking point. He wasn’t available.

Life was crap. Sometimes it held everything against you.

Why couldn’t I have been rescued by a kind, good-looking, single guy? My palms tingled and sensation stirred low in my belly. I wanted sex. Good hard, all-out, sweaty, marathon sex. I shoved the urge aside. Sex always got me into trouble.

As I carried on serving, feeling his eyes on my back, and my ass, I wondered what he’d said to Lindy tonight, and what she’d said to him. He would have rung. He’d probably called her on the way over here. He wasn’t the sort of guy to let a girl down––too bad.

I imagined Lindy was one of those girls who’d say, I trust you, it’s her I don’t trust. My mind ran ahead then, with all sorts of cutting phrases she might have said about me.

She didn’t know me, how could she judge me? By the fact Jason had found me half naked, about to jump off a bridge.

Of course, he’d had to tell her that.

Yet I doubted he’d mentioned that he’d treated my hand while I sat naked in his bath. I doubted he’d told her we were sharing a bed either. But I wasn’t giving up sharing his bed. I liked being in it, lying warm near him and listening to his breathing and smelling his smell.

There was another lull in customers. I was only fifteen minutes off the end of my first shift. I got him another beer and took it over.

“I thought you might like another.”

“Thanks, I’m just sat here quietly getting tipsy.”

“On three beers? You seriously do need to get a life.”

He laughed.

His brown eyes looked up at my eyes, and there was a real depth and warmth in them. I don’t remember ever seeing that in any other man’s eyes. There was a slight complimentary smile on his lips, too.

I couldn’t stop myself, I just wanted to know. I leaned forward and rested my hands on the table, so he’d have a view down my blouse, where my breasts would now be hanging into the lace and satin bra I’d waved at him last night.

“So what do you say to a long walk home, and taking a detour round Brooklyn Bridge Park, on the way back?”

His eyes held mine for a moment then glanced down, only for an instant, but even so, when his gaze returned to mine, it was more heated, and his lips had tightened as the muscle in his jaw clenched. It seemed my interest was definitely returned. No matter, there was the small town opinionated Lindy in his life.

“I’ll say I’m up for that, seeing as you just accused me of being boring.”

I laughed. “Sorry, a night-time walk round the park ain’t gonna break that boundary. You need to do something more exciting and reckless than that to start living on the wild side, Jason Macinlay.”

He stuck his tongue out at me, which only gave me an urge to play tonsil hockey with him, but instead I returned to the bar and asked the manager if he wanted me to start cleaning up.

When the other customers left, Jason went outside too. I told him where the backdoor was, and to wait for me there.

He was standing there when I came out, and he smiled at me, a broad happy-to-see-you smile. The chef came out after me, looked at Jason and then winked at me. I screwed my face up at him.

Jason’s hands were firmly in the pockets of his leather jacket and he wore the woolen hat that he’d loaned me last night. His breath came out into the dark night air as steam. It was way below freezing again. Certainly a bit chilly to be walking in a park, but I just fancied doing something with him. I’d enjoyed last night.

I slotted my arm through his and hugged in tight to him, pretending it was for warmth; it wasn’t.

We began walking, and to make conversation I started asking questions, what food do you like? What movies? What TV shows? It kept the conversation light and released some of the tension in my head, I needed to be talking and it meant I didn’t have to give him any details of my life, but I could get to know him better.

We laughed, argued and debated, and in the park we walked down to the river, as I’d done earlier, but this time instead of looking at the water I looked at the Brooklyn Bridge, lit up against the night sky.

“One of the things I miss most about home, is that you can easily drive out of town and into the dark, and when you’re in the dark, you can see millions of stars piercing the sky like pinpricks of light, it’s awesome. You can’t really see the stars here. All the city lights screen them out.”

I couldn’t imagine what he was talking about. I’d always lived in cities. “I’ve never seen that. I suppose you and Lindy used to drive out of town and make out beneath the stars?”

His hands were gripping the rail. He looked at me but didn’t turn. “Yeah.”

“Romantic,” I said dryly looking away from him and down at the dark shifting water.

“Yeah, our first time was out there.”

My eyes shot back up to him. It was an honest thing for a man to say, and without any prompting. Where the hell had it come from?

His eyes said he was remembering it. He wasn’t looking at me. He was looking across the river to Manhattan and the city, lost in time and lost in thought.

I could tell from his expression his first time had been planned, and looked forward to, a momentous occasion designed to be fixed in his memory and cherished forever.

Fuck, he really was small town. My first time had been quick and disappointing, a drunken fumble on a park bench. I’d only met the guy that night. I hadn’t thought myself in love. I’d just wanted to do what everyone else claimed they’d done. Afterwards I’d discovered most people had been lying and they hadn’t done it at all.

I started laughing, which was definitely the wrong thing to do, but I couldn’t help myself.

He let go of the rail and turned, looking at me, his eyebrows lifting.

I tried to stop laughing, but didn’t succeed. The back of my hand lifted to my mouth to hide my mirth. “I’m sorry, I just can’t believe you’ve only ever slept with one woman … ” He hadn’t said it, but I just knew it was true.

“I can’t see why that’s funny.”

“It’s just… Well, it’s just… You amaze me… You’re so good-looking. The other night, when I met you, I assumed you’d left dozens of hearts broken in Oregon.”

He gave me a broad smile, apparently not offended in the least. Then I realized what I’d done, I’d told him I thought him good-looking. Well, he was good-looking, he surely couldn’t be blind to it, yet I hadn’t noticed any vanity in him at all. God, he was turning into the most perfect guy.

I smiled too. “I respect you. I think it’s commendable.”

“But you’re still laughing inside.”

He was getting to know me. I smiled more.

“What about you, then? How many people have you been with?”

My smile fell.

The question was lightly put. He was teasing me back for teasing him. But I couldn’t answer, not with the truth. He’d be disgusted. His small town ideals would be rocked to their very foundations.

“You don’t want to know.” I killed the conversation flat and for a moment he was silent as he looked past me probably trying to guess if it was tens or hundreds.

His gaze returned to me. “So, have you always lived in New York?” The perfect guy that he was, he didn’t push, just changed the subject.

Surely I’d dreamed this guy up. He was too nice to be real. “No, I grew up in Philadelphia. I moved here when I was eighteen.”

It was the most personal thing I’d told him about my life, and I saw him recognize that as his gaze struck mine with a searching look.

He wanted to ask more questions, I could see that, but he didn’t. He turned back to face the water and gripped the rail again. “You and I, have lived very different lives, haven’t we, Rach…”

The fact that he shortened my name gripped in my chest, about my heart; it made me feel closer to him, like we really did know each other, like I’d known him for years.